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Heather looked at the size of the pancakes her mother-in-law had made. “I won’t eat more than one of that size.”
“I’ll still make four. Then you can share what you have left with Patrick.”
“How many will he eat?” Heather asked, eyes wide.
“I always make him sixteen, but sometimes he wants more than that.” Sally shrugged. “I keep saying he’s a growing boy.”
“Did his father eat as much as he does?”
“No, but he ate a lot. I thought I’d never be able to take a break from cooking. I’m glad you’re here to at least help with it.” Sally sighed. “I love my boy, but the amount of food he goes through would keep a full-time cook busy!”
Patrick opened the door then, bringing in a pail of milk and a basket of eggs. “I could take over gathering the eggs or milking the cow or both,” Heather suggested. “I think I’d do better on that tiny stool than Patrick does.”
He grinned. “I am a little large for it.”
His mother laughed from the kitchen. “You are much too big for everything!” she said.
Heather smiled at him. “You are a little bit bigger than the average bear.”
He chuckled, taking the eggs and milk into the kitchen. “Is breakfast ready yet, Ma?”
“Just about. Go sit and I’ll have it out to you in a moment.” Sally looked at Heather. “You drink coffee?”
Heather shook her head. “I usually just drink milk for breakfast. I’ll get it!”
Once they were all seated, and had said their prayer, Sally began talking between bites of food. “I hope you two had a nice wedding night. I’m going to start counting now, hoping there will be a grandbaby in exactly nine months. My grandbaby would be the most loved child in the world. I cannot imagine what would make me feel more blessed.”
Patrick looked at his mother. “Ma, stop.”
Sally sighed, looking down at her plate. “I want to imagine my grandchildren.”
Heather frowned. She didn’t want to hear his mother constantly talking about her and Patrick procreating, but she also didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t think about the grandchildren she would have. “Why don’t you start making little things for the baby to wear and blankets for him or her? Then you can think about the baby, and still not make us feel like we need to spend every moment in bed trying to make one for you?”
Patrick bit his lips to keep from cracking a smile. He reached under the table and took Heather’s hand, squeezing it. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ma.”
“Don’t think I won’t!” Sally looked as if she had a new purpose in life. “I’m going to go to Jensen’s Mercantile and get myself some fabric for a baby quilt today.”
“Take Heather with you. Get some fabric for a new dress or two for her.”
Heather shook her head. “I made a new dress on the train. I don’t need another new dress!”
“Ma, get Heather some fabric.”
“I will.”
“I’ve never known you to not want to spend money.” Patrick shook his head. “If I’d let her, she’d buy out the store.”
Sally gave him an admonishing glance. “I think I should make some booties, a couple of gowns, a quilt, oh and so many more things! I can’t wait until I can hold him or her in my arms, whenever you two get around to making him of course.”
Heather wanted to shake her head. Sally was already talking about them making a baby again. She hadn’t even stopped for a full five minutes. Her eyes met Patrick’s, and she could see the amusement in them, and she started laughing. She had a feeling it would do no good to talk to Sally again. The woman wanted grandchildren, and she was not going to be silent about the matter until Heather was pregnant.
“Is there anything you need from the store, Patrick?” Heather asked.
He seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Not today.”
“The store is only a ten-minute drive from here,” Sally said. “If you’ll hitch up the wagon for me before going out on the range, I’d appreciate it.” At Patrick’s nod, she continued, “I’ll stock up on supplies while we’re there. With as difficult as things are to get in the winter around here, I tend to keep a stockpile of food to use throughout the year. I’m lower on flour than I like to be, so I’ll be certain to get a couple of fifty-pound bags. Too bad potatoes aren’t in season yet. The potatoes that come from Idaho dirt are the best potatoes in the world.”
Throughout the rest of the meal, Sally chattered on about what she’d get at the store and how she liked to do things around the ranch, but Heather mostly tuned her out, feeling a little closer to her husband. He was obviously just as bemused by his mother’s constant talking as she was.
