Mail Order Mistletoe (Brides of Beckham Book 17) by Kirsten Osbourne

Author:Kirsten Osbourne [Osbourne, Kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unlimited Dreams Publishing
Published: 2015-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

When Lars came into the house at the end of the day, he stopped short, not believing everything his new wife had accomplished. Why, she had worked as hard as he had that day, and he hadn't thought that was possible. The table was set, and the pretty tablecloth Olga had made was gracing the table. It even smelled clean.

"You've worked hard today."

Meg turned to him with a smile. "I did. All of your clothes are clean. You won't have a hard time finding anything to wear." She planned to do just a bit more laundry the following day, because of the clothes they were both wearing. She wanted everything clean. She knew it was silly, but she didn't want to have to deal with the filth she'd dealt with that day ever again.

"I'm impressed. I know women's work isn't easy, but you've done so much you make it look simple." He sighed. "I'll be ready for dinner as soon as I've milked the cow." Just as he turned to leave, he heard a soft meow. Turning back, he frowned. "Was that a cat?"

She nodded. "I found a kitten in the bushes. She seemed hungry so I brought her inside."

"I'm not really fond of cats." He didn't hate them, but found them relatively useless.

"You live on a farm. I've seen a mouse here, and the cat will take care of mice, and she'll keep me company. I don't think I can get by well without some kind of pet. At least until children come."

He frowned. "I suppose you can keep her."

"Thank you!" she said, a huge smile on her face. "Do you like buttermilk?"

He blinked a few times, trying to understand her question. "Not particularly."

"I'll let Beth have it then."

"Beth?"

"The kitten. I was named after Meg in Little Women, so I named her after Beth. You know, the sister who died."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, nor am I sure I want to. I'll be back with the milk." He walked outside, closing the door behind him.

"Well, he's a grump this evening," she told Beth. Pouring some of the buttermilk into a saucer, she giggled as the kitten put a paw in the middle of the milk as she lapped it up. "You're just going to make a mess and have to wash your foot."

The kitten ignored her in favor of her treat, and Meg hurried as she finished the meal preparations. She had the bread and butter on the table when he came back in, and she served them each a large bowl of stew.

Lars set the milk on the counter and washed his hands, eyeing the tabby cat. "She's not a very delicate eater." He grinned as she splashed milk onto the floor.

Meg grinned. "She's still a baby. I'm surprised she's old enough to be weaned. She's drinking milk just fine, though."

"You mentioned buttermilk. Does that mean you made—." He trailed off as she pointed to the butter on a plate in the center of the table beside a loaf of fresh bread.

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