for what you'd get out of it. I don't even have any ground that's been turned, it would take a team and a prairie cutter just to dig you out a space."
"I should put up stores for the winter," she protested. "I'm your wife, it's just not fitting that you should have to get store-bought to provide for your table."
To Henry Lee it almost sounded as if she were jealous. He was a bit surprised at her anxiousness. Being a hard worker fit his former image of her as the preacher's spinster daughter. It didn't fit at all with what he knew now to be the truth about her.
She was right about a woman providing for the table from her own garden as being more fitting, and if they only ate food that she'd put by, at least they'd be sure that it was plenty clean and good. He guessed that would be important to her, being in the family way.
Just reminding himself of that soured his disposition. His eyes automatically dropped to her stomach, the sight of which was hidden by the table. He wondered when she would be showing; hopefully, not until winter. People sort of lost track of time in the winter and maybe her early blossoming wouldn't start that much gossip. Though he hated the idea of being saddled with another man's child, he liked children well enough and he thought he could tolerate this one. He'd just have to think about it as an orphan.
"You're right about needing a garden and doing your own canning. I think that's a good idea, but it's too late for a garden this year. I'll trade with some of your farmer friends for fresh produce and you can do with it what you think best."
"Trade? What will you trade?"
"Pigs." That was the answer he gave and at her surprised expression he began carefully studying the food on his plate. He knew it made no sense to suggest that any local farmer would trade table crops for pigs. Everyone in the territory kept pigs. You could ship them out as a cash crop or take them into town and get something for them, but for the locals they were the main source of meat for territory cooking.
"Who around here would trade you for pigs?" she asked him.
"Pretty near anyone," he replied deciding that the bigger the lie the more likely it would be to be believed. "That's why I only feed my pigs corn grits, makes the best ham and sausage in these parts. Everybody wants one of my pigs, I'm surprised that you haven't heard of them before."
Hannah hadn't.
After the meal, Henry Lee went to work carefully stirring the corn on the quilting frame. It was very important that the kernels were completely dry or they would not grind properly. The fire going smartly in the fireplace now made the room about one hundred degrees. With sweat running down the side of his face, he wondered why he'd been so impatient, not allowing the corn to dry out in the sun for a couple of days. It was all the fault of that woman, he decided. She had the power to make him do things that he wouldn't normally do.
Thinking about her, his eyes were drawn to the sight of her standing at the sink washing dishes. From his perspective he could see only the back of her, the tall body flanked by unfemininely broad shoulders that served to emphasize the very feminine nipped-in waist. The contrast was accented by her apron strings that gently smoothed the outline of her rounded hips. Her behind was one of her best features, Henry Lee decided. He had always preferred tiny, petite women. They made him feel massive and strong, but he suddenly understood what the appeal was for women who were "big of breast and broad of thigh." To relax in the comfort of that big, lush body seemed a worthwhile goal. And that generous rump, it almost begged a man to run his hand across it. He remembered his sleepy, waking dream this morning, when he had done just that. And just the memory of it had him hard as a blackjack stump at Christmastime. How had he failed to notice that enticing backside before? And who was the man who had noticed it before he did?
He quickly rose and
"I should put up stores for the winter," she protested. "I'm your wife, it's just not fitting that you should have to get store-bought to provide for your table."
To Henry Lee it almost sounded as if she were jealous. He was a bit surprised at her anxiousness. Being a hard worker fit his former image of her as the preacher's spinster daughter. It didn't fit at all with what he knew now to be the truth about her.
She was right about a woman providing for the table from her own garden as being more fitting, and if they only ate food that she'd put by, at least they'd be sure that it was plenty clean and good. He guessed that would be important to her, being in the family way.
Just reminding himself of that soured his disposition. His eyes automatically dropped to her stomach, the sight of which was hidden by the table. He wondered when she would be showing; hopefully, not until winter. People sort of lost track of time in the winter and maybe her early blossoming wouldn't start that much gossip. Though he hated the idea of being saddled with another man's child, he liked children well enough and he thought he could tolerate this one. He'd just have to think about it as an orphan.
"You're right about needing a garden and doing your own canning. I think that's a good idea, but it's too late for a garden this year. I'll trade with some of your farmer friends for fresh produce and you can do with it what you think best."
"Trade? What will you trade?"
"Pigs." That was the answer he gave and at her surprised expression he began carefully studying the food on his plate. He knew it made no sense to suggest that any local farmer would trade table crops for pigs. Everyone in the territory kept pigs. You could ship them out as a cash crop or take them into town and get something for them, but for the locals they were the main source of meat for territory cooking.
"Who around here would trade you for pigs?" she asked him.
"Pretty near anyone," he replied deciding that the bigger the lie the more likely it would be to be believed. "That's why I only feed my pigs corn grits, makes the best ham and sausage in these parts. Everybody wants one of my pigs, I'm surprised that you haven't heard of them before."
Hannah hadn't.
After the meal, Henry Lee went to work carefully stirring the corn on the quilting frame. It was very important that the kernels were completely dry or they would not grind properly. The fire going smartly in the fireplace now made the room about one hundred degrees. With sweat running down the side of his face, he wondered why he'd been so impatient, not allowing the corn to dry out in the sun for a couple of days. It was all the fault of that woman, he decided. She had the power to make him do things that he wouldn't normally do.
Thinking about her, his eyes were drawn to the sight of her standing at the sink washing dishes. From his perspective he could see only the back of her, the tall body flanked by unfemininely broad shoulders that served to emphasize the very feminine nipped-in waist. The contrast was accented by her apron strings that gently smoothed the outline of her rounded hips. Her behind was one of her best features, Henry Lee decided. He had always preferred tiny, petite women. They made him feel massive and strong, but he suddenly understood what the appeal was for women who were "big of breast and broad of thigh." To relax in the comfort of that big, lush body seemed a worthwhile goal. And that generous rump, it almost begged a man to run his hand across it. He remembered his sleepy, waking dream this morning, when he had done just that. And just the memory of it had him hard as a blackjack stump at Christmastime. How had he failed to notice that enticing backside before? And who was the man who had noticed it before he did?
He quickly rose and
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