tune he’d heard her humming when he came in to wash up for breakfast after feeding the livestock. Opening the front door, the smell of beef stew made his mouth water.
Hanging his Stetson hat in the hall, he removed his gloves and scarf, hung up his coat and proceeded to the kitchen. He found Philamena bent over the oven door, checking something inside. Luke leaned against the door frame, appreciating his fine view.
“Lunch smells good,” he finally said, stepping up to the sink.
Her startled gasp and the clank of the bread pan being dropped on the stove top gave away her surprise.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, picking up the pan and carrying it to a cutting board where she turned it out and buttered the top of the loaf while Luke washed his hands.
Luke shot her a devilish grin, took down two bowls and bread plates and set the table. He knew it made her uncomfortable to have him near and helping in the kitchen, which was one of the reasons he enjoyed it so.
He assumed the more time they spent together, the more acclimated she’d become to him and eventually quit being so nervous around him. Even in the short time they had been married, Luke could see real progress with his timid bride.
After a filling lunch, Luke watched as Philamena cleared the table. He poured himself a glass of milk and munched on oatmeal cookies.
“What did I see you carrying home this morning?” Luke asked as she rinsed off a plate.
“My quilt and things from the farm,” Philamena said, glad that she waved as she walked past the bank since Luke had obviously seen her go by. “I left them at the parsonage and went to get them this morning. I also wanted to check on Abby and see how she was feeling. I hope it was okay for me to do that.”
“Absolutely, Philamena,” Luke said, taking a long drink of the milk. “You can come and go as you please. I’m sure Abby appreciated the company.”
“She said she did. I was wondering if you’d mind if we invited them for Thanksgiving dinner, if they don’t have other plans.”
“Not at all. That’s a fine idea,” Luke said, helping himself to another cookie. “Speaking of fine ideas, I’ve got one for this afternoon. What would you say to going for a ride with me? I could show you the property boundaries and you could get some fresh air. I don’t know how many more nice days we’ll have before winter sets in.”
“That sounds lovely,” Philamena said, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter. “I’ll put dinner in the oven before we go.”
“Good,” Luke said, getting to his feet and putting his dirty glass in the sink. “I’m going to change my clothes. Just come down to the barn when you’re ready.”
Philamena nodded her head, trying to conceal her excitement at the prospect of going riding with Luke. Hurrying, she put a chicken with potatoes and carrots in the oven to bake, banked the fires and changed into her riding skirt, a soft blouse, and warm woolen coat with a thick scarf and gloves the same shade of holly green as her eyes.
The split skirt gave her such freedom as she moved, she felt like running to the barn but managed to keep her pace to a fast walk.
Stepping into the barn, she inhaled the scents of oiled leather, hay, manure and animals. She loved the smell and walked down the row of stalls, studying each animal. Drake was already saddled and standing patiently in his stall ready to go. In the next stall, Luke was cinching the saddle on a sorrel mare. Hearing the rustle of Philamena’s skirt, Luke looked up at her and grinned.
The sight of him in blue jeans, boots, a canvas coat with a wooly lining and his cowboy hat nearly did her in. His grin, deepening the dimple in his chin, along with the glow from his ice blue eyes, just about finished her off.
Unable to keep from grinning back at him, Philamena walked carefully up to the mare and let her take in her scent before placing a gentle hand on the horse’s nose and looking into her
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance