Amy led Ruby and Priscilla back to the house. “Did you girls enjoy that?” Amy asked, looking over her shoulder at the two young girls trailing behind her.
“Uh-huh,” Priscilla nodded eagerly. “I never knew horses’ hair could be so soft!”
“Me neither,” Ruby chimed in, “and I liked picking their hooves. It was like finding treasure!”
Amy laughed. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Now, let’s get inside and start on supper. Who’s hungry for chicken and dumplings?”
“Me!” both girls exclaimed, quickening their pace to match Amy’s.
“And salad of course,” Amy said, nodding to the veggies they’d picked that morning.
Amy tied an apron around her waist and set a large pot on the stove. She filled it with water and set it to boil while the girls watched, perched on wooden stools.
“Can we help?” Ruby offered.
“Of course,” Amy replied. “Ruby, can you fetch the flour and baking powder? Priscilla, we need the chicken from the ice box.”
The girls jumped into action, and soon the kitchen hummed with the harmonious sounds of collaboration. Amy skillfully deboned the chicken, her fingers deft and sure, while Ruby measured out the flour with a level of precision beyond her years. Priscilla watched Amy, absorbing every movement like a sponge.
“First, we’ll make the dough for the dumplings,” Amy instructed, guiding Ruby through the process. “Just like this, nice and gentle.”
“Like petting the horses,” Ruby mused, catching on quickly.
“Exactly,” Amy smiled, impressed by the girl’s connection.
Together, they rolled and cut the dough, dropping the pieces into the simmering broth.
“Smells good,” Priscilla observed, her stomach growling in anticipation.
“Almost ready,” Amy assured her, stirring the pot. “You two set the table?”
“Sure thing, Amy!” they said in unison, bouncing off their stools to lay out plates and silverware.
As the final touches to the meal were added—a pinch of salt here, a dash of pepper there—Amy stepped back, watching the girls work together. This was what family felt like, she realized. She couldn’t have asked for a better way to end the day.
“Supper’s ready!” Amy called, and the family gathered around the table, the enticing smell of chicken and dumplings drawing everyone in. They took their seats, passing bowls and sharing stories of the day, the laughter and chatter melding into the melody of ranch life. Amy looked around, her heart full. This was home, and these were the moments she would cherish forever.
