AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Never has. I’m not sure why. Well, I guess his pa was rather quiet as well. I always feel like I’m having half a dozen conversations with myself, simply so I’ll hear a voice throughout the day.” Mrs. O’Brien shook her head as she whipped up some eggs for scrambled eggs. “Oh, and you need to call me Sally. Mrs. O’Brien was my mother-in-law, and I wasn’t terribly fond of her.”
Heather wondered for a moment if it was time for her to talk, but Mrs. O’Brien started talking again almost immediately. “My family came here on the Oregon Trail. I’m sure you’ve heard stories about it. I was just a little girl, and the area was already starting to grow when my family got here. I thought it was the most beautiful place in the whole wide world, and I still think so most days.” She put bacon into her skillet, and it sizzled immediately. “Some Sunday after church, you need to talk Patrick into driving you out to Bear Lake. It’s so beautiful, but it’s a long drive, so it'll be a trip that will last a whole day. Patrick won’t take off any day but Sunday. Why, he wanted me to go into town and get you by myself, but I told him he needed to be there to meet his bride. So, what does he do? He sits in the wagon while I meet you. I swear, the boy needs my prodding to do anything but work. Work he does on his own, but only because he loves his job so much.”
“Does he work a lot of hours?” Heather was shocked she got an entire sentence out before Sally started talking again.
“He does! Sunup to sundown every day but Sunday, and he only takes Sundays off because I make him take me to church, and while he’s driving me, I remind him over and over that it’s a sin to work on Sundays. I swear somedays he doesn’t even seem to know what I’m saying.” Sally put the bacon onto a plate and then added the egg mixture to the bacon grease. “Just a tip for cooking for my son, you need to make about six times what you think you should make. He eats more than any man I’ve ever met, but don’t you worry. He never gains weight. He’s just built like a bull, which is good, because there are days, he all but wrestles them.”
Heather heard footsteps and turned to see Patrick there, holding a basket full of eggs and a pail of milk. “Let me take those,” she said. She looked and saw an ice box, which she put the milk into, and she left the eggs on the counter in the basket.
Sally nodded to Heather. “Set the table, child. If you can’t find something, just dig through all my cabinets.” She took the eggs out of the skillet and put them into a large bowl. Pulling the toast out of the oven, she stacked the pieces on a plate and put that on the table.
Heather had the table set as everyone sat down. “Are you a coffee drinker?” Sally asked Heather. “It’s hard to get coffee in these parts sometimes because some people here believe that coffee is not only bad for you but anti-Christian. Nowwedon’t believe that, but we’ve gotten used to not always having a pot of coffee in the mornings, even if we would prefer to have it. Isn’t that so, Patrick?”
Patrick nodded, bowing his head. Heather was happy to see her new husband was a praying man, and she lowered her head as well. His prayer was short and to the point. “Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Thank you for sending me a pretty wife. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
Heather blushed, not sure she should be saying amen after that prayer. It did make her feel good that he thought she was pretty.
They all passed the food around, fixing their plates. Heather was surprised at the sheer amount of food Patrick was able to fit onto his plate, and she found herself watching him eat, just to see if he was going to be able to finish it all.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Sally asked Heather.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Heather dug her fork into her eggs and took a bite. “They’re good. So fluffy!”
“I pride myself on my cooking. I’ll show you everything you need to know.”
“I’ve been cooking for years,” Heather said.
Sally stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You have? Patrick said his wife didn’t need to be able to cook in his letter, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t stop me from being able to do it. I’ve been cooking since I was ten.”
“Did your mother not cook?” Sally asked.
“She’s been ill.” Heather wasn’t going to go into the whole story, but she wasn’t going to lie about her past either. It was going to be a fine line to walk when she talked about her mother.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure she passed.” Without waiting for a response, Sally kept going, and Heather was pleased she didn’t have to explain that her mother was still alive. “I’ll be your new mother, and we’ll be as close as any mother and daughter you’ve ever seen.”
Heather wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just nodded.
“Poor thing can’t even talk about it,” Sally said, shaking her head. “Patrick was the same way when he lost his father. The two of them worked together every single day, and then one day his father was kicked by an ornery bull. His leg was broken, but it got gangrenous quick. He lost the leg and died from the blood loss. It was terrible.”
“It sounds awful. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I know you are,” Sally said, patting Heather’s hand. “Now Patrick oversees the entire ranch, and though he doesn’t say much, I think he’s happy not to have to tell anyone what he’s thinking or what he wants to do. Now he just does what he wants with the ranch, and he’s tripled the size of the herd in the five years since he’s taken over.”
Heather peeked at Patrick, seeing that his plate was empty, and he was adding more. “I suppose we’ll have to make the most of our evenings together and get to know each other.”
Patrick shrugged, still shoveling more eggs onto his plate.
“Yes, I’ll make sure the two of you have plenty of time alone together. I want grandbabies, and I’d like a whole houseful of them.” At Heather’s blush, Sally laughed. “I know what married people do when they’re alone together. Why, you don’t even need to worry about being quiet around me. I won’t be bothered at all knowing you’re working on the first of my grandchildren.”
Heather quickly changed the subject. “Is Patrick your only son?”
“He is. I had a daughter, but she died when she was only a few days old. It broke my heart, but I was happy to have my Patrick there to take my mind off my troubles. He was always such a good boy, weren’t you, Patrick?”
Patrick shrugged and took a big bite out of the piece of toast in his hand.
“He walked all the way to the school in Clover Creek, and he got a good solid, eighth grade education. I couldn’t be prouder of him.”
