Charming the Widow: Sweet Western Romance (Love in Apple Blossom Book 3) by Kit Morgan

Author:Kit Morgan [Morgan, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Angel Creek Press
Published: 2022-11-21T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Irving and Flint organized their supplies for the next day, then got to work on the laundry. Irving scrubbed while the children rinsed. Flint and Lacey would do a few pieces of clothing at a time, then he’d wring out what they rinsed and hang them on the line. What dry clothes there were, he removed, folded, and put into a basket for the children to carry to the back porch.

Sarah came out of the house and looked at the basket. “My, but you’ve been busy.”

“Those are ready for ironing,” Irving called from the washtub. “We’ll be done here soon enough.”

Before she could comment, Chester Smythe came around the side of the house. “Howdy, folks. I thought I heard everyone back here.”

Sarah went down the porch steps. “Afternoon, Mr. Smythe. What brings you here?”

“Went to town to get a few things and Alma told me you put in an order for a couple of hams, chops and bacon.”

Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t …”

“I did, sir.” Irving reached into his inside vest pocket and pulled out a billfold. “How much?”

“Well, let’s see,” Mr. Smythe drawled. “How about eight dollars?”

“Eight dollars?” Sarah said in alarm.

Irving smiled. “Not to worry.” He paid the man. “Where’s the meat?”

“In my wagon. Went home and fetched it out of my smokehouse and brought it here.”

Irving gave him a curt nod. “Lead on, then. Flint, we have procured some pork. Mind lending me a hand?”

“Coming!” Flint made a beeline for the front of the house.

Irving followed, Sarah on his heels. “Two whole hams, pork chops and bacon? But I never buy such things.”

“All the more reason for me to purchase them. It’ll be a treat.” They reached the wagon and Mr. Smythe handed her a few wrapped packages.

“Do you have the bacon I ordered?” Irving asked.

“Right here.” Mr. Smythe handed Sarah a few more packets.

“Land sakes,” she said. “Where am I going to put all this?”

“You got a smokehouse, don’t you?” Mr. Smythe asked.

“Yes, but …” She glanced at Irving and back. “… I haven’t used it much lately.”

“You won’t have to worry about it much longer,” Irving said. “I had Alma order you an icebox.” He smiled. “You do get ice delivered to town, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, when there’s a need. But only a few people have an icebox.”

“The Featherstones get their ice delivered from Virginia City,” Mr. Smythe volunteered. “But it’s very expensive. If enough people wanted, they’d make a regular delivery to the entire town.”

“That costs money,” Sarah said with a hint of panic.

“Calm yourself,” Irving soothed. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before taking one of the larger packages, then another. “Thank you, Mr. Smythe. Care to walk to the smokehouse with me?” He’d looked at it the other day and, finding it empty, asked Flint about it. The boy showed him the stack of hickory wood in a shed his father used and told him what his father taught him so far about curing meat.

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