Free Stephen’s Bride by Callie Hutton Page B

staring back at him. “Good morning,” she whispered in a morning voice.
    “Morning.” He reached for his pants alongside the bed and slid into them. “Since Bertha isn’t here, I’ll make coffee.”
    Silence greeted him, so he turned to her as he shrugged into his shirt. She hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed and continued to stare at him. Even with the bright sunlight, it was difficult to detect her mood. Perhaps she was as confused as he was. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
    He left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, barefooted, and certainly not ready for the day. But he had to get out of that room before he said something stupid, or asked a question he didn’t want the answer to. After stoking the fire in the stove, he put on a pot of water and ground coffee beans. A quick check in the larder produced eggs and a loaf of bread. Breakfast.
    The coffee was finished and he’d scrambled half a dozen eggs and cut up last Sunday’s ham, waiting for her to join him. He sipped his coffee and stared out the window over the sink. The wheat and corn were growing, the kitchen vegetable garden was already producing early produce, and the healthy looking chickens were busy pecking at bugs. With everything running so smoothly, why did he have this feeling of something missing?
    It didn’t take long to figure it out. The idea of a horse farm was never far from his thoughts. He’d saved most of his pay when he worked the farm with his brother. Although he hadn’t expected compensation, Daniel had insisted, so Stephen had tucked it away with plans to start his own horse farm. Then Calliope came along and all those plans changed.
    “The coffee smells wonderful. I often wondered when I was a child why it smelled so much better than it tasted.” Calliope grabbed a cup and poured the dark liquid. She added a bit of sugar and cream and joined him at the window. “What has your attention?”
    “Nothing.” The one time he’d mentioned the horse farm to her she’d dismissed it out of hand. One day he hoped to convince her it would be a good idea, but as long as she held the deed in her name only, any drastic changes had to be put on hold. Not that he expected to go back on his word and demand she add him to the deed, but he certainly had to feel more a part of the operation before he insisted on major changes.
    “Morning Boss.” John came through the back door of the kitchen with his son, David trailing behind him.
    “Good morning,” Stephen answered. “Grab a cup of coffee.” He felt Calliope stiffen next to him, and glanced at her curiously.
    John poured coffee for him and his son. “Looks like that creek is dammed up again. I think we ought to get out there and get this settled once and for all.”
    Stephen nodded. “We’ll follow the path of the creek past our boundary lines and find out once and for all exactly what Melrose is doing. As soon as we’re finished breakfast, I’ll join you.” He paused and turned to Calliope who continued to stare at him and John. “How soon will breakfast be ready?”
    “I don’t know,” she snapped. “As soon as you cook it, I assume.” She slammed her cup down on the table and left the room.
    Stephen stared after her back, then turned to John. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
    The man nodded and left, David once again trailing behind.
    ***
    How dare he? How dare he brush me aside as if this farm belonged to him?
    Calliope stormed into the parlor and plopped into a chair, then leapt up again and paced. John called him ‘ boss’ ! And he expected her to make breakfast, and probably spend her day in the house catering to his needs. Doing laundry, cooking, cleaning. Well, not her. She worked side-by-side with her papa and she had no intention of handing over the running of her farm to Stephen.
    Why were men all the same? They say lovely things to you, even make wonderful love to you, and then think they can walk all over you, take over your farm. She should have known