The Jilted Bride by Stella Clark

Author:Stella Clark [Clark, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance, Women's Fiction, Victorian Era, 19th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Love Possibility, Frontier-Pioneer Era, Cowboy & Western Romance, Hearts Desire, American West, Clean & Wholesome, Christian Stories, Faith Based, Inspirational Reads, Love Inspired, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Love-Family & Forever, Action & Adventure, Small Town & Rural Area, Mail-Order Bride Series, marriage of convenience, Novella Length Story, Family & Domestic Life
Publisher: Aryn House Publishing
Published: 2019-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

When Owen returned late that night, he found not only supper, but a slice of peach pie sitting on the table waiting for him. It smelled delicious. His stomach grumbled, and he dug right in. He was licking his plate clean when he noticed that the other side of the table was covered. His brow furrowed, wondering why Ruby had left a mess.

To his surprise, when he looked further, there was corn. One basket was completely filled with ears of corn. He touched one just to be certain he wasn’t dreaming. Curious, he glanced into the next pot and found it tightly covered with corn kernels. It meant a few hours of work.

Tucked beneath the third pot, he found his farming book. So he wasn’t crazy. Ruby must have found his book and followed the instructions. From the looks of it, she had followed them perfectly. He scratched his head. Why? Owen hesitated, glancing down the hall to see if she might still be awake. But there was no light from her closed door. Of course she was asleep. He should be asleep as well. He could think in the morning.

***

Ruby showed up again. This time, she was waiting at the back door. Owen hesitated, wondering what to say. Did she really want to be up this early? “Good morning,” she offered.

Owen opened the door. “Morning.” They started the walk down to the barn together in silence. He kept glancing at her. Though he found himself wanting to say something, he just didn’t know what. “Ruby?”

“Yes, Owen?” She glanced up at him with that smile.

He swallowed. “Do you need help milking? With the cows, I mean. If I left you to that?”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “You think I’m good enough to do it on my own already?”

His lips twitched. “Well, I suppose I could watch you for a bit, just to be sure. But you might be.” Owen watched her smile widen. “Come on.” He led the way as Ruby grabbed the pail and stool.

“So first …” she paused before reaching for the cow’s udder and glanced at her sleeves. “Oh, I got these dirty yesterday.” Ruby rolled them up. It made him smile, remembering how he used to make that mistake as well. The light flickered, impressing shadows across her arms.

But they stayed, even as the light changed again. He leaned forward. Ruby talked quietly to herself, repeating his instructions. His eyes watched her arms. There were scratches or scars; he couldn’t tell. But there were certainly bruises. Fading yellow, but bruises nonetheless. He thought back. She was a little clumsy, but not terribly.

“How’s this?” Ruby turned to him.

Owen glanced at the cow. “It’s good,” he managed. “You can squeeze a little tighter.” He straightened, telling himself not to be silly. She was fine. And she was good at milking cows. Soon he decided she was good on her own and went to the hay.

When he was finished, she had already moved on and sent the eggs to the kitchen.

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