Chapter Six

A my woke before dawn the following morning, and for a moment she lay in bed, watching Tim sleep for a moment. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to waking up in bed with a man, but she sure did enjoy seeing him there.

Amy tossed the quilt aside and hopped to her feet. She quickly dressed in a simple cotton dress. Her fingers worked nimbly, buttoning up with practiced ease. The air outside already hinted at how very hot the day would be.

"Morning's too precious to waste," she whispered to herself.

Amy beelined for the chicken coop, where she had seen Tim collect their breakfast bounty. The hens clucked contentedly as she approached, as if they too appreciated the novelty of her company. She reached into the nesting boxes, her hands gentle but confident, gathering warm eggs into the folds of her apron.

"Good morning, ladies," she cooed to the hens. They responded with a chorus of approving clucks, seemingly charmed by her presence.

Back in the kitchen, Amy set about preparing breakfast with the same love and attention she'd given to every task since arriving at the ranch. The eggs were whipped into a frothy golden sea, and she folded in chunks of bacon. It was a simple meal, but Amy knew that after a year of trying to eat Tim's cooking, the entire family would appreciate it.

As the family gathered around the table, each face a canvas of sleep-smudged features slowly brightening with alertness, Amy served the scrambled eggs.

"Smells good, Amy," one of the younger girls murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Thank you, darling," Amy replied, her heart swelling with pride. "Eat up now, we've got a full day ahead."

While the family ate, Amy's gaze roamed the room, noting the little touches that transformed the house into a home. Later, she'd get on her knees and give the kitchen floor a thorough scrubbing. A sense of belonging settled within her—a feeling she hadn't known she'd been missing until now. She wasn't living in a temporary home anymore. She was a wife and mother, and she had complete control of the house.

"Once I'm done in here," she thought, "I'll spend some time with Ruby and Priscilla." She couldn't help but look forward to the laughter and joy that the rest of the day promised.

AMY ROSE FROM HER KNEES , the bucket of murky water a testament to her morning's labor. She wiped a stray wisp of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she surveyed the gleaming kitchen floor.

Stepping into the warmth of the day, Amy shielded her eyes and scanned the expanse of the property. There, by the barn, Ruby and Priscilla were immersed in a game of their own making, their laughter floating on the breeze like dandelion seeds.

"Ruby, Priscilla!" Amy called out, her voice carrying over the open space. Her heart quickened at the thought of sharing this day with them—the first of many, she hoped.

The two girls paused, glancing her way with expressions of curiosity. Ruby, ever the quiet one, seemed to weigh the invitation, her small fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. Priscilla seemed excited at the idea of adventure, her young mind likely already racing ahead to the wonders they might discover.

"Come on, let's explore together! Have you seen the creek beyond the south meadow?" Amy's tone was light, imbued with an excitement she couldn't contain.

Ruby bit her lip, hesitating. "Is it far? Mama never let us go too far from the house."

"Not too far," Amy reassured, mindful to address Ruby's reserved nature with gentle encouragement. "And I've heard there's no better place on the ranch for skipping stones."

Priscilla was ready. The little daredevil was already bounding toward Amy, her small legs kicking up dust. "I want to see! Let's go!"

"Wait for me!" Ruby's voice held a newfound determination as she took off after her sister.

Amy led the way, her boots pressing into the soft earth of the dirt path. A chorus of morning birdsong filled the air, and she couldn't help but smile at the simple melody of the ranch coming to life.

"Look there," Amy pointed to a cluster of wildflowers. "Those are Indian Paintbrushes. Aren't they pretty?"

"Like paint on a canvas," Ruby murmured, her fingers grazing the fiery red blooms.

Priscilla, not to be outdone, chimed in with a grin, "And those little ones are Bluebonnets, right?"

"No," Amy said shaking her head. "Bluebonnets are only in bloom in March and April in this area."

They continued along the path, Amy sharing tidbits about the local flora and fauna, while the girls absorbed every word. She was glad she'd taken time to read a book about gardening in Texas she'd found on the bookshelf in the parlor. The simplicity of their walk, the shared curiosity—it felt like a promise of good things to come.

"Wow," Priscilla breathed out, eyes wide as saucers.

"Isn't it something?" Amy said, her gaze sweeping over the view.

Ruby nodded silently, caught up in the grandeur of it all.

Amy let out a wistful sigh, her heart swelling with a sense of belonging. "I wish I could paint," she said, almost to herself. "Then I'd capture this moment, keep it forever."

"Can't we just remember it?" Ruby asked, tilting her head.

"Of course, we can," Amy replied, ruffling Ruby's hair affectionately. "Memories are the best kind of keepsakes, aren't they?"

"Better than any painting," Priscilla agreed, beaming.

Together, they stood atop the hill, three souls bound by the beauty of the open land and the warmth of newfound companionship.

"Let's head over to the vegetable garden," Amy suggested, her eyes twinkling with a hint of adventure. "We can pick some fresh veggies for dinner."

"Really?" Ruby's voice quivered with excitement, her usual reserve melting away.

"Uh-huh!" Priscilla clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"See these tomatoes?" Amy pointed to a cluster of plump red fruits hanging heavy on their vines. "They're ready when they're this deep color and just a little soft to the touch."

"Like this?" Ruby asked, gently squeezing one.

"Perfect," Amy praised. "Don't squeeze too hard or you'll look like you lost a fight with it."

Priscilla reached for a cucumber, her small fingers curling around the cool skin. "And this one?"

"Give it a little twist," Amy instructed, guiding Priscilla's hands. With a snap, the cucumber came free, and Priscilla's face lit up with pride.

"Good job, Priscilla!" Ruby said, giving her little sister an encouraging smile.

As they moved through the rows, Amy showed them how to spot the ripe bell peppers, their glossy skins a sign they were ready to be picked. They filled their baskets with the colorful harvest.

"Can we make a salad?" Ruby asked, holding up a carrot she had unearthed.

"We sure can," Amy said with a nod. "With all these fresh veggies, it'll be the best salad you've ever tasted."

"Yummy!" Priscilla cheered.

Amy led Ruby and Priscilla to a perfect picnic spot under a giant oak tree. She'd made a simple lunch for the others before mopping the floors and left it in the oven for them to serve themselves. She'd been married for almost a week now, and they would be headed to church the following morning. She couldn't help but think of how proud she'd be to be sitting with her family in the pews of the local church.

"Girls, how about we have ourselves a picnic right there?" she suggested, pointing to the shade.

"Picnic?" Priscilla's face lit up like the dawn, her little legs carrying her toward the oak as fast as they could manage.

Ruby's lips curved into a gentle smile, a rare sight that warmed Amy's heart. "That sounds nice," she said softly.

Amy smiled. "I'll go get the picnic basket I packed before I came outside." She hurried into the house and took the picnic basket off the table, happy to have time to spend with the little girls.

Under the canopy of the aged tree, Amy spread out a checkered blanket with corners worn from love and use. She unpacked the sandwiches and placed them alongside a large glass jar brimming with homemade lemonade. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the blanket in patterns of light and dark.

"Come sit," Amy beckoned, patting the blanket beside her.

The girls settled down, Ruby with her usual quiet grace and Priscilla with the unrestrained enthusiasm of youth. They each took a sandwich, the bread fresh and the filling hearty, just the way Amy knew would bring comfort.

"Try the lemonade. I squeezed the lemons this morning," Amy said, pouring the sweet, tangy liquid into tin cups.

"Yummy!" Priscilla declared, her voice bubbling with delight as she sipped.

"Good job, Amy," Ruby added, her approval more subdued but no less sincere.

As they ate, Amy watched the children with a tender gaze. "What do you girls like best about living on the ranch?" She was genuinely curious, wanting to know the souls of these little ones who had been entrusted to her care.

"I like the horses," Ruby confided, her eyes taking on a distant dreaminess. "They're strong and free."

Priscilla, crumbs dotting her chin, chimed in, "I climb trees!"

"Is that so?" Amy laughed, brushing away the stray bits of sandwich from Priscilla's face. "And what do you both dream of? For when you're grown?"

Ruby bit her lip, contemplating. "I'd like to be a teacher. To read lots of books and show others how."

"I want to fly like a bird!" Priscilla declared, spreading her arms wide.

"Those are beautiful dreams," Amy encouraged, her voice soft with sincerity. "And you can be anything you set your hearts on." She looked at Priscilla. "Except maybe a bird."

"Really?" Ruby seemed to search Amy's face for confirmation.

"Really," Amy affirmed. "You're part of a family that will always support you." Amy looked at the tree above them. "You know, my sister Gail married Mr. Carlson, and she can build anything. I think we should ask her to come visit and build us a treehouse, and we'll feed her cookies as payment."

"Could we?" Priscilla asked, looking excited.

"I'll talk to your papa about it, but I have a feeling he'll agree." Amy folded the checkered blanket with a smile, tucking it under her arm. "Let's head over to the stables now," she suggested.

Ruby and Priscilla scrambled to their feet, their energy renewed by the prospect of adventure. They trailed behind Amy, their small boots kicking up puffs of dust as they made their way across the ranch.

"Does your papa let you ride them?" Amy asked, her enthusiasm infectious as they approached the large wooden structure that housed the horses.

Ruby shook her head sadly. "He thinks girls are too delicate to ride horses."

Amy sighed. "A lot of men think that. But you know what?"

"What?" Ruby asked.

"I think the world is changing, and in another fifty years or so, girls are going to ride horses all the time!" At the stable door, she paused. "Horses need lots of care, but if you're gentle, they'll be your friends for life." Her words were like seeds planted in fertile soil, sowing curiosity and eagerness in Ruby and Priscilla's young minds.

"Can I really touch them?" Ruby's voice was a whisper of awe mixed with a hint of disbelief.

"Of course, you can." Amy's affirmation was warm and reassuring. She led them inside, where the scent of hay and leather mingled in the air.

"Hello, Jasper," Amy greeted the chestnut gelding nearest them, extending her hand slowly for him to sniff. The horse nuzzled her palm, his dark eyes gentle.

"See? Just like this." Amy picked up a brush from a nearby shelf and began to run it over Jasper's coat, her strokes rhythmic and sure. "Always go with the direction of their fur."

Priscilla watched, wide-eyed, then piped up, "My turn?"

"Here, use this smaller brush." Amy handed her a suitable tool for her tiny hands, watching as Priscilla mimicked her movements with childlike concentration.

Ruby took a brush too, her fingers gripping the handle as if it were a lifeline to a world she had only dared to dream of. Her strokes were tentative at first, but with each pass over the sleek coat, her confidence grew.

"Good job, Ruby," Amy encouraged. "You're a natural."

"Does he like it?" Ruby asked, her gaze never leaving the horse's flank.

"Very much," Amy replied, "Just like we enjoy a nice back rub."

They moved on to the hooves, and Amy showed the girls how to pick out the dirt and stones, explaining the importance of keeping the horses comfortable and healthy.

"Like checking for rocks in our shoes," Amy said, making sure the lesson was within their grasp.

"Yuck!" Priscilla exclaimed, giggling as a clump of mud dropped from the hoof. Yet her laughter was not one of disgust, but of discovery and joy in the messiness of life.

"Exactly, Priscilla," Amy laughed along, her heart swelling with pride at their quick learning. "It's all part of taking care of those who take care of us."

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.