Page 58 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
With loud whoops, they galloped after him and the four of them rode into the yard and skidded to a halt at the barn.
“I won,” Riley announced.
Luke gave him a disgusted look. “Didn’t know it was a race.”
Wally stared at them from the barn. “You boys forget what your pa said about running the horses hard?”
Riley was the first to dismount and the first to groom his horse and take care of his tack. Not that it went unnoticed. His brothers teased and jeered. He ignored them.
He could smell something savory before he reached the house. “Smells good,” he said when he stepped inside.
Olivia startled and turned from the stove. “I didn’t hear you come. I wasn’t sure when you’d return.”
She met his eyes and then looked beyond him. Her eyes darted back to him and stayed. The air between them crackled. He shook his head. He only thought so because of the comments he’d endured from his brothers all day. They’d never once let up. He went to the basin and concentrated on washing his hands and face.
“Supper is ready.” She hustled around putting bowls and platters on the table.
He took his place and waited for her to sit. Was it his imagination or did she seem jumpy? He said grace and dished up his food— spiced roast venison. It smelled and tasted great. There were mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots and beets. “A meal fit for a king.”
“Thank you.”
“What did you do all day?” he asked.
“You mean besides cook this delicious meal?”
Hearing the teasing in her voice, he chuckled. “I doubt it took you all day.”
“You’re right. It was too muddy to work in the garden so I—” She stopped and gave her plate of food a great deal of concentration.
Why was she reluctant to finish? “Tell me what you did.”
She looked at him, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “I had a tea party with the others.”
“The others being…?”
“Honor and Gwen, of course. The children. Mrs. Bennet and Alfred and Wally.”
“Everyone but the Shannon boys.” He wondered if that was intentional.
“You weren’t here, or you would have been included.”
“A tea party, you say?”
An eager light filled her eyes. “I served tea and cake that I made myself and then I played the piano for them. A concert I suppose you could say.”
“Sounds nice.” He would have liked to be part of the party.
“I think it was.”
At the hesitation in her voice, he leaned across the table, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “Olivia, I have no objection to you having a tea party if you want.”
Her eyes bored into his. He didn’t blink at her intensity.
“You’re sure? You don’t think it’s the pastime of a spoiled rich girl?”
He sat back and considered her. Words he’d heard his mother speak sprang into his mind. “Doesn’t the scripture say ‘To everything there is a season.’?”
Her answer came slowly. “‘A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’”
