grinned, then set to loading Jenny and Annie’s things in his wagon.
* * * * *
That night, Tom and Jenny sat side by side on the front porch swing, watching the sunset. The exchange of vows at the preacher’s house had gone off without a problem, with Annie and Pastor White’s wife serving as witnesses. They had arrived back at Tom’s ranch at close to suppertime and were greeted in the kitchen by a simple but delicious meal of stew and biscuits, prepared and left for them by Ruth, the wife of Tom’s foreman, Zeke. There had been a cake, too, and a brief note of congratulations and welcome, with Ruth promising to stop by the next day.
“It’s truly beautiful here, Tom. You’ve built a remarkable spread.” Jenny was taken with the size of Tom’s ranch and how prosperous it seemed. He employed eight ranch hands plus a foreman. She knew a lot of hard work had gone into making the ranch successful, which made her even more impressed with Tom. Jenny felt lucky that he was everything he had made himself out to be in his letters. More, it seemed.
“If you like,” Tom suggested, “we could go riding tomorrow and I could show you more of the spread than what you can just see here from the house.” Jenny nodded enthusiastically. “Good, it’s settled then. We’ll bring a picnic lunch with us too. How comfortable are you on a horse?”
“I learned to ride a few years ago. I’m a bit rusty, though, I’m afraid. Annie’s a much better rider than I am.”
Tom reached over and took Jenny’s hand in his own. “You didn’t really tell me too much about growing up in your letters. Do you mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind, but there’s not much to tell. After our Pa died, Annie and I landed in an orphanage. Folks would come and take a few of us home for harvest time and then send us back when the work was done. Annie ran off a lot during that time.”
“Ran off?” Tom wasn’t sure what Jenny meant by that. “Where did she run off to?”
“She would stay in the woods nearby for a spell, usually, living outdoors, keeping to herself. A few times she went to the next town over. She’d always come back after awhile, said it made her feel better about things if she could get away. She’d come back when she started to miss me.” Jenny smiled to herself.
“When we were sixteen, an elderly couple adopted us, saying they needed help on their farm. It wasn’t anything like the harvesting work.” Jenny turned to look at Tom with a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “They really didn’t need us to do that much – they wanted company more’n anything else – and they were so kind.”
“Sounds like you loved them.” Tom squeezed Jenny’s hand reassuringly.
“We did, we both did.” She paused. “That’s where I learned to cook. Alma taught me. And she taught me to sew too.” Jenny grinned at the memory, “And Henry taught Annie all the things he would have liked to teach his son, if he had had one, least that’s what he used to say.”
“Henry taught us both to ride. I enjoyed it for sure, but Annie took to it like a fish to water. She’d be on that horse more often than not.”
“Where are they now?” Tom couldn’t help but wonder why Jenny would want to leave them to come out here. She so clearly loved them.
“Henry passed in his sleep. The doc said it was his heart.” She paused at the painful memory. “Their only child, their daughter Mary, came for the funeral and decided shortly after that she would sell the small farm and take her mother back to Georgia with her. That’s where she lived with her husband.”
“And you didn’t want to go with them?”
“We weren’t welcome to go with them. Mary made that perfectly clear to Annie and me when Alma was out of earshot. I answered your ad shortly after Henry’s funeral.”
“Darlin’, I’m real sorry about Henry’s passing and you and Annie losing Alma like that, but I sure am glad that you came here.”
“Me, too.” Jenny
* * * * *
That night, Tom and Jenny sat side by side on the front porch swing, watching the sunset. The exchange of vows at the preacher’s house had gone off without a problem, with Annie and Pastor White’s wife serving as witnesses. They had arrived back at Tom’s ranch at close to suppertime and were greeted in the kitchen by a simple but delicious meal of stew and biscuits, prepared and left for them by Ruth, the wife of Tom’s foreman, Zeke. There had been a cake, too, and a brief note of congratulations and welcome, with Ruth promising to stop by the next day.
“It’s truly beautiful here, Tom. You’ve built a remarkable spread.” Jenny was taken with the size of Tom’s ranch and how prosperous it seemed. He employed eight ranch hands plus a foreman. She knew a lot of hard work had gone into making the ranch successful, which made her even more impressed with Tom. Jenny felt lucky that he was everything he had made himself out to be in his letters. More, it seemed.
“If you like,” Tom suggested, “we could go riding tomorrow and I could show you more of the spread than what you can just see here from the house.” Jenny nodded enthusiastically. “Good, it’s settled then. We’ll bring a picnic lunch with us too. How comfortable are you on a horse?”
“I learned to ride a few years ago. I’m a bit rusty, though, I’m afraid. Annie’s a much better rider than I am.”
Tom reached over and took Jenny’s hand in his own. “You didn’t really tell me too much about growing up in your letters. Do you mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind, but there’s not much to tell. After our Pa died, Annie and I landed in an orphanage. Folks would come and take a few of us home for harvest time and then send us back when the work was done. Annie ran off a lot during that time.”
“Ran off?” Tom wasn’t sure what Jenny meant by that. “Where did she run off to?”
“She would stay in the woods nearby for a spell, usually, living outdoors, keeping to herself. A few times she went to the next town over. She’d always come back after awhile, said it made her feel better about things if she could get away. She’d come back when she started to miss me.” Jenny smiled to herself.
“When we were sixteen, an elderly couple adopted us, saying they needed help on their farm. It wasn’t anything like the harvesting work.” Jenny turned to look at Tom with a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “They really didn’t need us to do that much – they wanted company more’n anything else – and they were so kind.”
“Sounds like you loved them.” Tom squeezed Jenny’s hand reassuringly.
“We did, we both did.” She paused. “That’s where I learned to cook. Alma taught me. And she taught me to sew too.” Jenny grinned at the memory, “And Henry taught Annie all the things he would have liked to teach his son, if he had had one, least that’s what he used to say.”
“Henry taught us both to ride. I enjoyed it for sure, but Annie took to it like a fish to water. She’d be on that horse more often than not.”
“Where are they now?” Tom couldn’t help but wonder why Jenny would want to leave them to come out here. She so clearly loved them.
“Henry passed in his sleep. The doc said it was his heart.” She paused at the painful memory. “Their only child, their daughter Mary, came for the funeral and decided shortly after that she would sell the small farm and take her mother back to Georgia with her. That’s where she lived with her husband.”
“And you didn’t want to go with them?”
“We weren’t welcome to go with them. Mary made that perfectly clear to Annie and me when Alma was out of earshot. I answered your ad shortly after Henry’s funeral.”
“Darlin’, I’m real sorry about Henry’s passing and you and Annie losing Alma like that, but I sure am glad that you came here.”
“Me, too.” Jenny
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