N
o matter how hard Rainee tried, sleep eluded her. Thoughts of spending the day with Haydon kept her tossing and turning. Finally, she gave up, got dressed and went downstairs.
She grabbed a couple of oil lanterns and lit them and then put on a pot of coffee. She could do this. Katherine had taught her well. “Let me see. Katherine said she wanted to have ham steaks, fried potatoes and Swedish pancakes. I think she called them plättar or something like that,” she whispered to the empty room.
Arranging wood and kindling into the stove, she got the fire started and decided she would make the pancakes first.
She grabbed a bowl, the lingonberry sauce and several of the ingredients she needed from off the shelf. She cracked three eggs into the bowl and whipped them until they were nice and thick. Just like Katherine had shown her. Next, she stirred in the milk, flour, sugar and salt, and mixed until it was smooth before covering the bowl with a towel.
Humming while she added a small amount of batter onto the hot buttered pan, she spread the batter until it
was thin. When it turned a light brown on the bottom, she turned it over. Moisture beaded her forehead, so she used her apron to blot it away.
She retrieved a baking sheet and placed a clean towel on it, then added the finished plättar on top of the towel. She repeated this process until the batter disappeared. The last one, however, did not make it onto the towel or into the oven to stay warm.
Rainee looked around, smiling, feeling like a child sneaking a licorice stick. She laid it on a plate, spooned melted butter over it, sprinkled it with sugar and rolled it up. Then she added a dollop of lingonberry sauce on the side, dipped the pancake into the sauce and bit into the thin, sweet pastry. The first bite melted in her mouth. Sugar and butter ran down her chin. The texture of the treat reminded her of the crepes their French cook used to make back home.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?”
Rainee whirled at the sound of Haydon’s humor-filled voice.
Her cheeks, already hot from the stove, heated even more. She swallowed the last bite. It was so large she had a hard time getting it to go down. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He walked over to where she stood by the stove.
Rainee put her head down. “I could not sleep.” She looked up at him. “You?”
He shrugged. “I have a lot of chores to do before our ride, so I thought I’d get an early start.”
Rainee tilted her head. “So what are you doing here?”
“I came to see if there was anything to eat before heading down to the barn.”
“I just finished a batch of crepes. Well, Frenchie, our cook called them crepes anyway.” Realizing the blunder she made about mentioning her life back home, she rushed on, “Katherine says y’all call them ‘plättar.’ She taught me how to make them, so I thought I would get an early start on breakfast.”
She pivoted her back on him and reached for a coffee cup before filling him a cup of the hot brew and handing it to him. “Would you like some crepes? I mean, plättars?”
“Looks like you’ve already had some.” He pointed to her mouth and humor curled his lips and sniggered through his words.
At this rate, if her cheeks got any hotter, they were certain to burst into flames. “I did.” A twitter of a giggle followed. She sighed and wiped her mouth off with her apron. “Caught in the act again. I never was very good at being sneaky.” She turned and retrieved a cup of coffee for herself. “I always told on myself when I did something wrong. Well, most of the time anyway. Mother called it ‘bearing harmful witness.’”
“What do you mean, ‘most of the time’?”
“On occasion I opted not to tell Mother.”
“Why’s that?”
Merciful heavens, the man has beautiful eyes.
“Because I knew if I did, a certain hour-long lecture would follow.” Rainee took a sip of her coffee. The bitter taste slid down her throat. Truth be known, she preferred tea, even at breakfast.
“Ah, I see. I know that only too well. At one time, my father was a stickler like that also. I sat down to many a lecture when I was younger. I used to dread them. And now, I would give anything to hear one of them.” Sadness crossed his face.
“I, too, would give anything to hear one. To hear my mother’s voice again. To see her face just one more time.” Not liking the uncomfortable gloominess that had rested upon them, she wanted to lighten the mood. “Mother always said she lectured me because she loved me. Said if she did not love me, she would not even bother. I must have been the most loved person in the entire universe.”
“Me, too.”
They both laughed.
“Now, how about some breakfast?” She set her cup down and reached for the potatoes.
“No time for potatoes. The plättars will do just fine.”
“At least allow me to fry you a slice of ham.” She motioned for him to be seated before she sliced off two thick chunks of ham and tossed them into the castiron skillet. While they cooked, she placed in front of him dishes, silverware, plättars, bread, a small bowl of melted butter and the lingonberry sauce, then added the fried ham onto his mounding plate.
“These are delicious, Rainee,” he said around the large bite in his mouth.
Rainee’s heart skipped with happiness. She watched as he devoured one crepe after another. If he kept this up, she would have to make another batch, and she would do it with pleasure.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” He sliced off a massive chunk of ham and shoved it into his mouth.
Rainee marveled, wondering where he put all of that food. “No. I am going to start tending to the potatoes. It will not be long before everyone else arrives. I want to surprise your mother and have breakfast all ready.”
His eyes sparkled as if she had pleased him with
her comment. Rainee turned to the task of peeling and dicing the potatoes. Minutes later, she heard the chair scrape against the floor. She glanced in his direction.
Haydon headed toward her, carrying his empty dishes. She wiped her hands off on the apron and hurried over to him. “Here. Give them to me.”
He handed them to her. “Thank you, Rainee, for breakfast.”
She glanced up at him. “You are most welcome.”
He stood there for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something, but instead he turned on his heel and headed out the door, taking a portion of Rainee’s heart with him. She could hardly wait for their ride.
After everyone had their breakfast and the dishes were finished and put away, Rainee packed a light lunch. The thought of spending more time with Haydon sent excitement coursing through every inch of her. Rainee raised her skirt and ran up the stairs.
She scurried inside Leah’s room and donned her brown riding habit. She stepped in front of the looking glass and tucked in the wayward strands of her flaxen hair, grabbed her hat with the feather plume and tied the ribbon under her chin. It would have to do. If she had her way, she would put on a pair of man’s breeches and a cowboy hat, but it was not to be.
With a smile on her face and her heart feeling lighter than it had in so very long, she floated down the stairs, grabbed their picnic lunch and headed outside.
Haydon scanned the barnyard and saw Jesse out by the woodshed. Rainee’s words about forgiveness swam through his head. He started to head toward his brother,
but when he glanced toward his mother’s house, he stopped.
The sight of Rainee in her fancy riding habit brought back painful memories of the last time he’d watched Melanie leave on horseback wearing a similar outfit. At the time Haydon didn’t know his wife was heading out to meet her lover. When he discovered her affair, the man fled the county. Melanie blamed Haydon for her actions, saying if he wasn’t such a horrible husband, she would have never been tempted. Even now his blood boiled thinking about how innocent she had always acted, when all the while she was a vixen.
“Good morning, Haydon.” Rainee’s gaze traveled upward toward the sky and then back at him. “It looks to be a lovely day.” A smile graced her face.
“Is it?”
Her smile vanished. “Is something wrong?” She tilted her head, looking innocent. But Haydon knew better. Women like her were anything but innocent.
Judge not, lest you be judged.
The Bible verse poured through his spirit, searing his conscience.
You’re right, God. I need to stop judging Rainee and comparing her to Melanie.
“Did you change your mind?” Turbulence filled her eyes and remorse flashed through him like a bolt of lightning.
He wanted to say yes, he had changed his mind, and flee, but his desire to replace the hurt he had caused her with his attitude wouldn’t let him. “No. I didn’t change my mind.” This time he held his frustration back.
He reached for the sack she held. “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten the horses saddled yet. I had to finish fixing a few broken boards on the corral.” He motioned for her to follow him to the barn.
She stepped up alongside him. The feather in her hat flopped in tune to her steps. “I can saddle my own horse. Just show me which one it is and what saddle you want me to use, and I can take care of it.”
“You? You’re going to saddle your own horse?”
“Yes, me.” She peered sideways and stopped. “I have been doing it for years. And if my mother had known, I would have been sat down to yet another one of her lectures on etiquette. I mean, really…” She huffed and planted her hands on her small waist.
“Young ladies are quite capable of saddling their own horses. But because someone decided it was not proper for a woman to saddle a horse, or to run up the stairs, or to use a fork instead of her fingers or wear those dreaded binding cors—” Her words suddenly stopped, her eyes widened and her mouth plunged open. “Merciful heavens. I—I….” Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes blinked rapidly. “I am so sorry,” she stammered. Her cheeks dusted scarlet.
Haydon threw back his head and laughed as relief poured over and through him. Never before had he heard a woman speak such things with such passion. Except for his mother. Mother loathed and rebelled against all the rules of society, too. His laughter deepened until his gaze landed on Rainee’s scowling face. His laughter evaporated like morning dew kissed by the heat of the sun.
She pierced him with her pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “Are you laughing at me, sir?” Because of her pronounced Southern accent, the word “sir” sounded like more like “sah.” The grit in her voice and her feisty attitude fished another chuckle out of him.
Haydon held up his hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, okay?” But he really wasn’t. “But look at you.” He eyed
her up and down before his gaze landed once again on her disapproving face.
She bent over at the waist and scrutinized her body. Narrow eyes and scrunched up lips met him. She stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “There is nothing wrong with my appearance, mister.” Again he wanted to chuckle, but this time it was how she said “mister.” It sounded more like “mistah.” He kind of liked when she got all fiery. He loved her accent and could listen to it for hours.
He corralled the laughter rolling around inside long enough to speak. “You’re dressed as if we were going to a social outing and yet you’re willing to saddle your own horse. And from what you just told me, you don’t much appreciate the rules of etiquette either. You are a mystery, Rainelle Devonwood, that’s for sure.” He smiled, feeling the happiness clear to his bones. “Come on then. Let’s get started.” He closed the distance between them, placed his hand at her elbow and led her toward the barn.
“What did you mean I do not appreciate the rules of etiquette
either?
Do you know someone else who feels a strong aversion to them as I do?”
“Yes. My mother.”
“Your mother?” Tilting her head back, her wide eyes looked up at him from under the broad brim of her hat.
Again Haydon chuckled. It felt good to laugh again. “Yes.” He stopped at the barn door, tugged it open and motioned for her to precede him. They stepped inside and let their eyes adjust to the dim interior before he set the food bag down on a bench inside the door.
Rainee faced him. “Katherine mentioned a couple of social rules that she no longer abided by, but I had
no idea she felt as strongly about them as I do. Are you teasing me?” The look she gave him was incredulous and suspicious.
“Nope.” He walked past her, grabbed a couple of halters off of a wooden peg from inside the tack room and headed toward the stalls. “She never let on she felt that way until we moved out West.”
Rainee stepped up beside him and reached for one of the halters.
Haydon tightened his hold.
“I want to help. Please?” Seeing her sincerity, he handed her a halter.
“You take Raven.” He pointed toward the stall that held his most gentle mare.
He watched her open the stall door and shut it behind her. She coaxed the Palouse pony to her. And with expertise she slipped the halter on the black horse with the white spotted rump and led it out of the stall.
Haydon haltered Rebel. When he stepped inside the barn, he saw Miss Piggy heading his way. “Well, hello there, Miss Piggy.”
Rainee whirled around and jumped back. Raven balked, but the pint-size woman kept the horse under control. Her eyes darted wildly about the barn. “Where—where is the pig?” She pressed her back against the horse.
Haydon laughed again. “
Miss Piggy
isn’t a pig.”
Rainee’s brows darted heavenward as if being held at gunpoint. “What is it then?”
With his back to Rainee, he squatted down and scratched Miss Piggy behind the ears. He picked up the gray-and-white cat and hugged the feline to his chest. He turned and faced Rainee. “
This
is Miss Piggy.”
“That
is Miss Piggy?” Her eyes danced with surprise.
“You have a cat named Miss Piggy?” Her head weaved back and forth and the feather on her hat waved. “Wait.” She stopped shaking her head. “Let me guess? Abby named her, right?”
“Nope. I did.”
Her hand shot to the side of her face. “Very strange. Very strange indeed.” She stepped in front of him. “May I hold her, please?”