Free Deeply Devoted by Maggie Brendan Page A

as he slid to a stop, nearly upending the table.
    “No matter, apologize to Mr. Andersen, and then take yourselves outside and run all you like.”
    Both of the boys muttered “sorry” to Peter, and off they went racing through the dining room. Peter could hear Angelina yelling something in Italian at them as they went weaving through the tables.
    Peter laughed, and Mario raised both arms above his head in exasperation and shrugged. “Sorry, sometimes they can be a handful. But you’ll find out for yourself soon enough.” He chuckled.
    “I look forward to that. I’d better get on back home before supper—whatever Catharine will come up with.” Peter chuckled. “Thanks for the advice, Mario.” He moved to the swinging door. “I’ll be in touch.”
    “Ciao!”
    Peter said goodbye to Angelina, promising to bring Catharine the next time, then hurried out to where he’d hitched the wagon. On the ride home, he pondered what Mario had told him. A honeymoon weekend might be just the thing to make Catharine feel more at ease. He could surprise her, but he wasn’t sure if it was safe to leave her sisters alone out on the farm. He didn’t want to bring them too—that would defeat the whole purpose.
    To tell the truth, if her sisters hadn’t tagged along in the first place, things could have been so much more romantic, but his plans had been squashed when Catharine brought them. He sighed wearily, knowing that if he’d had two brothers to raise, they would’ve come as a package too. It was only the right thing to do, but it just didn’t seem fair. Well, Lord, I’ll just have to figure out how to make it up to her and myself, since she’s devoted to her family. But it’d be nice if she’d be devoted to me someday.

     
    Catharine pulled the three-legged stool next to the cow, Bessie, who swung her head around at the sound of Catharine’s movements and looked at her with large brown eyes. She patted the cow’s rump and murmured a greeting. “Now see here, Bessie. I know I’m not very good at milking, so please be patient with me.”
    Bessie went on chewing her cud. Catharine plopped down on the stool, pushed her skirts between her legs, and reached for Bessie’s udders to wash them gently with warm water before starting to milk her. “I’ve seen milking done before. I might be a complete flop at it, but I’m determined to give it a try, my dear cow.” She giggled, thinking that if someone heard her now, they might be concerned about her sanity.
    She placed a milk pail under Bessie and pulled down on one teat. Nothing. Catharine tried again, but no stream of milk appeared. After a few minutes of frustration, she wiped her brow and blew a dangling curl away from her eyes.
    The barn door opened and Greta and Anna strode in. “Catharine, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Greta’s eyes glanced over at the empty pail. “No luck, huh?”
    Catharine groaned. “Not yet. It looked simple with Peter’s help. But I didn’t learn well enough, I guess.” She sat back, giving her lower back a rub.
    “Move, Cath. I think I can wring some milk out of that ol’ cow.” Anna pushed Catharine’s shoulder, then knelt in the straw next to her. “Peter said I’m good at it. I’ll show you how.”
    Greta stood by to watch, her arms folded. Catharine knew Anna wasn’t afraid of anything and remembered she’d gotten the hang of milking with the first try.
    “See how I kind of roll Bessie’s teat in the palm of my hand?”
    Catharine nodded. Anna’s blue eyes sparkled up at her, and she gave Catharine a grin. “Good. After you do that, you pull. Just roll and pull the teat in the palm of your hand in one movement.” Anna demonstrated, and the milky stream hit the empty pail with a loud splash. “Here . . . try again.”
    Catharine eyed her sister and pursed her lips with determination. If Anna could do it, surely it couldn’t be that hard. She grabbed another teat and mimicked Anna’s motion. With