Chapter 17

17

L eah braced her weight against the work counter as she draped the thin strip of crust over the rich burgundy of the blackberry pie filling. Despite the ache when she put weight on her leg, over the past few weeks she'd learned how to move around without too much pain. It was easiest in the kitchen, where she could lean against the counter while she worked.

And who would have thought she would enjoy cooking and baking so much? Miriam always made it seem like a chore, but Leah was learning to look at it more as an art form.

Especially the baking part. Now that she was beginning to understand what each ingredient added to the outcome of the dish, it was fun to experiment with flavors and textures. And since they were right in the middle of berry season, Miriam was always bringing in a basket of raspberries or blackberries or currants from the valley. Soon, Leah could be the one out riding through the mountains, picking berries and helping with the animals. Patience, though.

Father, thank You for Gideon's skill when he splinted my leg. And thank You for mending the bones.

While in this prayerful attitude, her mind drifted to her new friend. Lord, I pray You'll guide Miriam in Your path for her life. I think she feels trapped here on the mountain, with almost no interaction with other people. Help her know You haven't forgotten her. Help her trust that You have the best plan in the right timing.

And then there was Gideon. Her heart ached for the man, strong and attractive, yet obviously hurting underneath his mountain man fa?ade. Lord, soften his heart. Help him heal and forgive. She wasn't sure who he needed to forgive most, God or himself. But God knew.

Her prayer was interrupted by a clatter of steps on the porch. Miriam's blonde curls popped through the doorway and she began chattering almost immediately. "I got a whole basket full of red currants on my way back from taking lunch to Gideon. See how big these are? We should get a bunch of jars if we make jam from these. How's everything coming for the evening meal?"

Leah smiled as the younger woman finally stopped for breath. "The last two loaves of bread just came out of the oven and this pie is ready to go in now. The potatoes are peeled, so there's nothing left to do until later."

"Good. I suppose we should start on this jam then." Miriam's face pulled into a grimace. "I hate to spend the afternoon in this hot kitchen when it's so glorious outside."

Poor Miriam. She deserved some free time. "If you tell me what to do, I'll make the jam. You can take the afternoon off. Get one of my books and find a cozy spot outside."

Miriam nibbled her lower lip, but then finally sighed. "No, jam is too hard to just tell you what to do. I'll have to show you the first time."

And so, they set to work. Leah watched carefully every step of the way so she would be able to do the job herself later. She truly felt bad for Miriam, like she was caging a wild bird who just wanted to fly about and sing, making the world a lovelier place.

"You know what I always imagine when I'm stuck in the kitchen?" Miriam said as she poured sugar into the pot with the currants. She didn't wait for Leah to answer. "I imagine I'm a grand lady in a New York mansion. I sit in my summer room all morning and sip tea and eat biscuits smothered with currant jam, while talking with friends about all the latest fashions." She gave a wistful sigh. "What a wonderful life."

Leah couldn't help but chuckle at such naiveté. "Well, your imaginings could be technically correct from a glance, but it's really not as wonderful as you make it sound."

Miriam blinked at her, coming out of the stupor. "I forget sometimes you used to live like that. You seem so normal ."

Leah couldn't help a smile as she stepped forward to stir the currant and sugar mixture. That old life of idle uselessness was behind her for good.

"It might sound fun to be a lady of leisure, but it's not really what it seems. Instead of being allowed to do nothing , it was more like I wasn't allowed to do anything . I could only read from a select group of books, draw, play piano, or do needlework, but that was about it. I couldn't go anywhere by myself, always had to maintain my poise, couldn't walk faster than an elegant stroll, and I've never, ever ridden a horse astride. That life was so confining."

She stared down into the bubbling red jelly. "When I was little, I used to sneak down to the kitchen in the afternoons. Cook would let me help her pour ingredients, or mix batter, or roll out crusts. I loved feeling useful."

A gasp sounded behind her. "Speaking of pie, I think we'd better check yours."

Leah turned, dragging her bad leg, as Miriam opened the oven door and pulled out the golden-crusted pie. The burgundy-black filling bubbled, sending a sweet aroma through the kitchen.

"Perfect." Miriam held the steaming concoction up for Leah to examine. "Gideon would be none too happy if we burned his favorite dessert." She grinned at Leah before placing the pie on an empty shelf.

Turning back to look in the pot Leah was stirring, Miriam watched the gooey bubbles for a moment. "So tell me more about your life. Were you friends with the mayor's wife and special people like that?"

"Well…I did attend many of the same dinner parties as the mayor's family, but I'm not sure I would say any of those ladies were friends . We were all trained to be so proper and poised, never saying what we actually thought. And most of them were so snooty they wouldn't step out in the rain, even with an umbrella."

Miriam's eyes took on innocent confusion. "Surely you must have had friends. Weren't there girls your own age?"

Leah nodded. "I would consider those girls acquaintances, really. My dearest friend was my companion, Emily Alders. She was several years older than me, but one of the kindest people I've ever met." Memories of Emily brought a familiar sting to the back of Leah's throat. Time to change the topic. "Is the jelly supposed to have foam on the top like this?"

Miriam peered into the pot. "Yep, that's normal. We just need to scrape it off. And it looks ready to pour into jars now. Can you do that while I start the beef for dinner?"

"Of course."

As she ladled jam from the pot into jars, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Miriam extracted a hunk of beef from the barrel in the corner. She placed the meat in the other pot and added enough water to cover, then moved it onto the hot part of the stove.

Leah cringed at the sight. Surely there was a different way to cook meat that wouldn't make it so tough it would wear longer than the leather soles of her boots.

Her mind filtered back to those afternoons spent in the Townsend kitchen. What had Cook done with meat? She remembered seeing the maids pounding the stuff with an iron mallet, but what would that do? Shape the meat? She didn't remember seeing any beef dishes with unusual shapes. Maybe it helped to soften it. That might be worth a try.

"Miriam, I remember our cook in Richmond use to pound on the meat with a mallet after it was parboiled but before it was fried. Would it be all right if we try that?"

Miriam raised her brows, but shrugged. "Fine with me, but I don't have a mallet in here. I could go see if I can find something in Gideon's tools."

Leah looked around the room. "What if we try a frying pan instead?"

By the time they'd pounded and fried the meat, boiled and mashed the potatoes, mixed gravy in the frying pan, and arranged all the food on the table, exhaustion weighed her entire body. But she was more than a bit anxious to see if their experiment would yield any benefit in the texture of the beef.

Miriam must have noticed Leah's fatigue, for she finally pointed to Leah's chair. "Sit."

Her leg ached too much to resist, so she sank into the chair with painful deliberation.

Gideon came in not long after and took his normal place at the table, only nodding in response to greetings from both women. Leah's chair was across from him, and she reached out a hand to offer Drifter her normal welcome.

After Gideon said his simple blessing over the food, then loaded his plate, Leah tamped down her apprehension as he began to eat. She casually moved the food around on her own plate, trying not to appear obvious she was watching Gideon for a reaction on the food.

After half the meat on his plate was gone, he raised his head to look at his baby sister. "Meat's good."

Miriam dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Why thank you, big brother. Leah actually taught me a new technique. Makes the beef tender, don't ya think?"

Gideon's glance flicked to Leah, then back down to his plate as he nodded. "Seems so."

And apparently that's all he was going to say, for his fork dove back into the beef, using it to sop up mashed potatoes and gravy.

Something about this man both frustrated and drew her. Why was he so reserved? Why couldn't he open up and talk to them like any other person? It wasn't as if either of them were strangers anymore. Maybe she should try an experiment.

Clearing her throat, she began, "So, Gideon. How were the animals today?"

"Fine." He didn't even look up, just loaded potatoes and gravy on a slice of bread.

"Have there been any new calves born in the last few weeks?"

"Two."

"Oh, I'll bet they're precious. All the babies and mamas are healthy?"

"Yep."

Leah wanted to shake the man, but kept her poise instead. Perhaps all of Emily's training had been for this moment.

She needed to make sure she phrased her questions so a one-word answer wouldn't suffice. Horses were his favorites, so maybe that subject would get him talking. "So what are you working on with Trojan these days?"

Gideon stopped chewing and his head came up. She couldn't quite read the expression in his eyes, but it was guarded.

"Leading."

This man was impossible.

She kept her voice pleasant. "Walking on the lead line? Is he learning quickly?"

"Some. He's a stubborn colt, though."

At last. She tried not to let the victory show on her face, but her heartbeat raced with delight. "Yes, I would imagine most little boys are stubborn, even the four-legged variety, but his eyes had an intelligent look."

The shield in Gideon's eyes lowered for a split second and she caught a sparkle before he replaced it. His only response was "Yep" as he reached to spoon a second helping of beef onto his plate.

Watching him enjoy the food made all the hard work worth the effort and weariness. He even pushed his empty dessert plate toward Miriam saying, "Pie was good. Prob'ly the best I've tasted."

Miriam's face took on a coy expression as she rose and scooped more of the sweet stuff from the pan on the back of the stove. "It was wonderful, wasn't it? Leah made the pie."

She missed Gideon's response because she kept her face focused on the berries in her own plate. The best blackberry pie he'd tasted? Her cheeks were probably flaming.

It took her a few minutes to regain composure, but when Gideon mentioned that he was headed to the barn, she jerked her gaze up. He'd already stood and moved to the door.

"Gideon." She stood and reached for her crutches. He was putting on his hat, but turned to face her. "Do you think I could follow along and learn how to milk the cow? Now that I can move around more, I'd like to help with more of the barn chores." His stance was reluctant, so she used a tact that would surely work. "I know it would take some of the load off Miriam in the mornings."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting down to her splinted leg. "As long as you do what you're told."

She grinned. "Agreed."

He was patient as she hobbled across the uneven ground toward the barn. He ambled along beside her, picking at the stem of a weed and acting as if it always took him five minutes to walk from one building to the other.

Drifter, on the other hand, dashed toward their destination. When he'd almost reached the barn, he stopped and looked back as if to say, What's taking you so long? He trotted back to them and began weaving back and forth behind them, making sure they made steady forward progress.

Leah smiled. "I'll bet he's good at keeping the cows in line."

"Yep, he's a big help when I move ‘em from one pasture to another. It used to drive him crazy that I wouldn't keep my horse inside the herd with the cows." He gave a short chuckle. "Now he's mellowed out some."

She'd never seen this side of Gideon. And she'd rarely heard him speak so many words in a full day, much less in one conversation. What else could she ask to keep him talking? "He seems like a great ranch dog. Where did you get him?"

Gideon tossed the stem he'd been picking at. "Found him when he was a puppy on another ranch near Butte. A good dog's almost as good as an extra man, especially on a small ranch like ours."

They reached the barn, and he held the door open for her. After they entered, he stepped forward and strode toward the huge mound of hay in the left corner. "I just need to fork hay to the outside horses, then I'll bring in Bethany."

True to his word, he returned soon with a spotted cow in tow. She wore a rope halter and plodded steadily, her heavy udder swinging with each step. On his way into the cow's stall, Gideon grabbed a three-legged stool, then tied off the cow near the pile of hay and placed the stool next to her side.

Leah picked up the empty tin pail from beside the barn door and hobbled along after them. Gideon met her at the stall door and took the pail from her hand. "It's probably best you watch for now. It would be hard to sit on the low stool with your leg splinted. If she starts to move around, you won't be able to get back fast enough without getting hurt."

Leah opened her mouth in protest, but swallowed the words before they made it out. She'd promised to obey orders. She closed her mouth, nodded, and moved to lean against the wall. She would watch for now, but couldn't promise she'd be happy about it.

As Gideon settled into the rhythm of milking, it seemed her viewpoint really wasn't so bad. She had the perfect angle to watch the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex as he moved. The thin cotton of his faded blue shirt hid little of his strength, sending a warm tingle in her midsection. Around him she felt…safe.