“I’m sorry,” she offered sincerely. “I’m afraid the men of my acquaintance, well, they’re not active men. And they’re not nearly so big, either. I just didn’t realize.”
Lucas was grinning at her. “I guess a couple of spins around a dance floor wouldn’t stir up much of an appetite, not like breaking three wild horses. But Mack whipped us up a big lunch, so don’t worry about it.”
Her cheeks pinkened as she wondered if he had come in today to look for his lunch. What had she been doing early this afternoon? She hadn’t even thought of lunch, not after their late breakfast.
“Is that what you did today, break wild horses?”
Lucas nodded as he began filling his plate. “I’ve got an order for a dozen horses to be delivered to Fort Lowell, near Tucson. Breaking them in for the cavalry is short work. It’s turning wild mustangs into good cow ponies for the ranches that takes a might more time. Sam Newcomb wants thirty by the end of summer, and with the other orders I already have, Billy and I will have to head up into the mountains again pretty soon.”
“You catch the horses?” Sharisse was surprised. “But I thought you bred them. Isn’t that what’s usually done on a horse ranch?”
“It’s not quite two years since I settled here, Sharisse. Not a single horse came with this place. I’ve started a breeding program, even brought in a thoroughbred from Kentucky, but it takes time to build up stock. I’ve got a good number of foals pastured up in the hills, but not one is old enough for sale yet, and they won’t be for some time.”
“I see. It’s just…you fit in so well here, I thought you’d been here longer.”
“It doesn’t take long to adjust,” he said meaningfully.
“I imagine that depends on the background you come from,” she murmured.
“You think mine was so different from yours?” He was grinning again.
“I’m waiting to find the answer to that,” she said sweetly.
He laughed. “I did say ‘later,’ didn’t I? But how about giving me a chance to enjoy this food before I bore you with my life story?”
“If you insist. Coffee?”
“Please.”
When she came back to the table with the coffee pot, Lucas had a mouthful of food. She began to fill her own plate. She kept sneaking peeks at him to see what he thought of her first attempt at cooking, but his expression gave no clue.
She took her first bite of the meat. It was tough and bone-dry. Her biscuit tasted moldy, and when she examined it, she could see splotches of raw flour. Were they all like that? The carrots were hard, but edible. The potatoes were mushy. The onions were just right. Well, how could you hurt an onion? And the coffee, after four attempts, was divine.
She glanced up at Lucas, her face hot. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“I’ve had worse,” he grunted.
She wasn’t going to let this upset her, she just wasn’t. “I suppose the few things I didn’t follow in the book counted more than I thought they would.”
“You mean you improvised?” He grinned.
“No, I just left out things I didn’t understand. But how was I supposed to know what ‘knead’ meant for the biscuits? I’ve never heard the word. And it said to slow-cook the roast, but it didn’t explain what slow-cooking is. It said to add water, but not how much, to season to taste, but not which seasoning to use. And all I found was salt, anyway.”
“The herbs are in the garden, Sharisse.”
“Well, this is a fine time to tell me that.”
“I guess I’ll have to have Willow pay you a visit after all. You can ask her about the things you don’t understand. But before then, in the morning, at least add some coffee beans to the coffee.”
“But the coffee is perfect!”
“It tastes like hot water.”
“That’s because you’re used to that thick slop you made this morning. I don’t know how you can drink it. It tastes like mud.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
In other words, ithadto be madehisway. She fell stonily silent, eating as much of her food as she could stomach, then moved off in a huff to clean up the mess.
