Matthew nodded and dove into his dinner.
“That was good, Ma,” he said, wiping his mouth. Standing, he bent and brushed her cheek with his lips. “Want me to dry?”
“No, you go on and change your clothes. Best you head into town and get to work on winning her hand. I hear tell her cooking has the men lined up at the door almost every night.”
“It’s not her cooking I’m interested in,” Matthew replied with a laugh as he left the room.
Emma chuckled and began to clear the table. She was proud of all her sons. They’d grown into fine men, and her only daughter, Melissa, was a good wife to Cole Rathborn. Now if only they’d provide the grandchildren she so longed for. Sighing, she finished up the dishes.
“I’m leaving, Ma,” Matt said, coming into the kitchen when she was wiping down the table. “Need anything before I go?”
“Not a thing,” she replied. “I’m going to sit in my rocker and work on that crochet tablecloth for Morgan and Callie Mae so I can get started on a wedding present for Mead and Marilee. Goodness, the days seem to get away from me lately.”
“It’s no wonder with all the canning you’ve been doing. How many jars of peaches did you put up today?”
“Three dozen,” Emma replied, “but I still have another bushel to do. Then I’ll start on the strawberry preserves. I want to make sure I get them done in time.”
“I’ll ask Laurie if the boys can come out and pick strawberries. Of course, they’ll eat more than will make it into the pail,” he replied with a smile.
“No more than you and your brothers did.” Emma smiled. “They’re good boys,” she continued. “Laurie Dixon couldn’t do better than you, Matthew,” she insisted. “You’d be a good pa to them, and a fine husband for Laurie. I hope she comes to see that. I’d love to have them and I wouldn’t mind the company out here either.”
“I know it gets lonely for you, Ma.”
“It’s true,” she acknowledged. “I can’t say I don’t miss your Pa, even after all these years, but the good Lord saw fit to take him and there’s not a blessed thing I can do about it. One day I hope to have you all living ‘round. We’ve got plenty of land for farming, and any of you could increase the herd if that’s what you want. It’s a good place to raise a family.”
“You’d like a regular Whittaker dynasty,” Matthew teased with a laugh. “A big spread like the Wainwrights.”
“And why not?” she stated firmly. “It’s what your Pa and I always intended. Mead’s already working on building a home for him and Marilee. I see no reason you and Morgan can’t do the same.”
“No reason at all,” Matt agreed. “Now I just need to convince a certain woman to marry me.”
“Laurie likes her independence,” Emma reminded him. “Even if she agreed to become your wife, I don’t see her giving up the Blue Bonnet easily.”
“Like Callie Mae won’t give up The Duchess.”
“Yes, once a woman tastes financial freedom, her need for a man waivers. You’re a fine-looking man, son, but it will take more than that to convince Laurie you’re worth it.”
“She can keep the café, if that’s what she wants, but she can’t work herself to death. If I’m to take a wife, I’d like one with a little time for me.”
“That’s right,” Emma agreed. “There must be a balance. She’ll need to decide what’s more important, money or love.”
“And that’s the rub, Ma. Laurie never had much growing up, and even less while married to Floyd Dixon. Now she has money of her own. I know it’s tight, but she manages now that she’s feeding the crowd at The Duchess when the drovers come through. She’s putting money by for the leaner times and hoping it’s enough. Part of me wants to cheer her on, and the other part wants to shake some sense into her. If she were to marry me, she wouldn’t have to worry. I’m willing and able to provide for them all, but it’s important to her to prove she can do it on her own. I swear, it occurs to me I could be wasting my time, but I’m well and truly hooked.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Matt admitted ruefully. “She smells like Sugar Cookies most of the time. She’s as pretty as a spring morning and she doesn’t resort to batting her eyes and flattery. Laurie don’t need those female trappings at all. Her appeal is just being herself without all the simpering and nonsense most of the other girls use to try to trap a man.”
Emma laughed.
“Then you’d best be off,” she warned, sitting down in her rocker and taking up her crocheting. “I reckon other men are attracted to her for the same reasons. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m fine, Matt, and perfectly content to sit here enjoying the breeze coming through the screen door and listening to the crickets. If I’m abed before you get home, I’ll leave a lamp lit for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll try not to be too late.”
Emma watched him go out the door. A few minutes later, she heard his horse going down the drive at a good clip. Resting her head against the back of her chair, she closed her eyes.
