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“Oh, but surely—” Leah bit her tongue.
“Sometimes life isn’t a happy thing, my girl. An occasional slice of lemon cake can make things tolerable.”
“Y-yes, of course,” Leah stammered.
The birdlike woman studied Leah with an intent expression, and then a ghost of a smile flitted across her lined face. “You are young, my girl. There is much of life ahead of you. We must all learn to find small pleasures to sustain us.”
Leah stared at her in silence.
The woman gestured at the bakery window. “This is what I do to survive,” she said. “And now I will bid you good-morning.” She swept through the doorway.
All that morning Leah thought about her chance encounter with Mrs. Sorensen, and about her words. The woman was right; small pleasures, like the scent of honeysuckle or the feel of Teddy’s curls under her hand when she trimmed his hair—such things were lifesaving.
She did her shopping at the mercantile under the icy glare of Carl Ness, ran her hand over the snowshoes on display and purchased three pairs of winter socks for Teddy.
On her way past Uncle Charlie’s shining window, she recalled what Mrs. Sorensen had said, and on impulse turned her steps into the bakery. Thad loved Charlie’s lemon cake.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The closer Thad drew to the Halliday spread, the more unsettled he felt. Teddy had wanted to go fishing, but Thad had put him off. He wanted to talk to Wash about his wheat. About Leah. About…everything.
But he hadn’t a clue where to begin. It went against a man’s grain to talk about personal matters, even to a friend. But he knew he had to do it.
He set his jaw, rode the black gelding up the long lane to the Double H ranch house, and dismounted. Wash Halliday strode out onto the wide front porch.
“Good to see you, Thad. How’s that colt working out for Teddy?”
“Colt’s fine. Teddy brushes him three times a day and feeds him apples and sugar lumps.”
Wash grinned. “Sounds like true love.” Something must have shown on Thad’s face because Wash peered at him and frowned. “What’s on your mind, Thad? Come to buy another pony?”
“Uh, no. I came to, uh, borrow a plow horse.”
“Plow horse! Bit late in the season to plow, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, maybe. Trouble is…”
Wash’s wife, Jeanne, stepped off the porch and came toward them, a mug of coffee in each hand. Thad touched his hat brim.
“Morning, Jeanne. Coffee sure smells good.”
Jeanne Halliday looked into his face with piercing gray-green eyes. “Ah, something is on your mind, is it not? I see it in your face.”
Wash touched his wife’s shoulder. “Now, Jeanne…”
“She’s right,” Thad said. “Must stick out all over.”
Jeanne glanced from her husband to Thad and back again. Then she nodded and gave them a half smile. “You men have some talk to do, n’est ce pas?” Tactfully she turned away, disappeared into the big white farmhouse and shut the front door with a decisive click.
Wash drew him over to the front fence and planted his elbows on the top rail. “What’s on your mind, Thad?”
Jumping june bugs, what wasn’t on his mind? He hooked his boot heel on the bottom rail and leaned one knee into the rough-cut wood. “What’s on my mind is, well, mostly it’s my wheat experiment.” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Nah, that’s not it. Mostly it’s Leah.”
“Trouble comes in brigades, doesn’t it?” Wash said evenly. “I’ve got to tell you, every rancher in the valley thought you’d gone loco when you planted that wheat field.”
“Yeah, they made that plenty clear.”
“And when you married Leah, every spinster in the county was mad as a wet hen.”
Thad worried his boot against the fence rail. “I don’t think I’m crazy for either one, Wash. But, dammit, nothing’s working out right.”
“Something going wrong with Leah?”
“Oh, hell no. She keeps Teddy well fed and cared for, and she keeps the house the cleanest it’s been since I built it. I’m damn proud of her. She washes our clothes each week and irrigates her garden with the used water. She’s learned to cook dishes I’ve never heard of, things called cauliflower ah grat-something and beef bour-gone-none. Names are funny but they sure taste good.”
He broke off and looked away. “That is, until I stopped eating meals at the house. And started sleeping in the barn.”
“That bad, huh? A woman can sure tie a man in knots.” Wash shot him a look and chuckled. “Jeanne thinks you’re putting your money on the wrong horse.”
