Free Ryder (Prairie Grooms, Book Two) by Kit Morgan Page B

darlin’. Heck, they’d take one look at Harriet and die laughin’.”
    Constance furrowed her brow in confusion. “Where does she go?”
    “Not far, she’s around her somewhere. She’ll need milkin’. I’ll teach ya how.”
    “Me? Milk a cow?”
    “Sure, that’s gonna be one of your chores, Sugar.”
    She paled. She never imagined she’d be milking a cow.  She’d spent enough time living at the Triple C the last couple of weeks to assume it was part of the ranch hands duties … and oh … right.  They didn’t have any ranch hands. She glanced down at her own hands and sighed. “Oh, dear me …”
    “But I’ll milk her tonight while you get supper ready,” he said with a smile.
    She shook off a chill and forced a weak smile in return. “Of course.” Her voice wasn’t much stronger than her smile. She was going to have to face the cold hard facts.  She was going to have to work, and work hard. But that’s not what bothered her. What bothered her was the fact she had no idea what she was doing!
    The men unloaded the wagon and then went to tend the horses.  Constance stared at the pile of goods on the kitchen table and tried to figure out where she was going to put them.  Up until now she figured Ryder had never brought home this many supplies at one time before. He had no larder, at least none that she could see, and she wasn’t sure if he had a root cellar either. She put both hands on her head and pulled her hair. What was she to do?
    She studied the room again and noticed some containers on the floor near the stove. What were they?  She went to investigate and discovered they were stoneware storage jars.  She took the lid off one. “Ah ha!” she said to herself. “Sugar. And what’s inside of you?” she muttered as she removed the lid off another. “Looks like flour.” She continued to examine the containers, and discovered a smaller one for salt, and the fourth had some old ground coffee in it.  “Well, that solves one problem at least.”  Since the jars were empty for the most part, she set about wiping them out before putting the new stores in. By the time she was finished, Ryder came back into the house.
    “Puttin’ things away, Sugar?”
    “Ye s, but I don’t know where to place some of it.”
    “You leave that to me . I need to show you where things are kept. Got me a root cellar out back.”
    She hadn’t noticed it, but then, she h adn’t really been looking for one when she’d been out back.  The only thing behind the cabin she’d been drawn to was the privy. “It would be most advantageous for me to know where everything belongs.”
    “Yes, ma’am. And for me when you start cookin’ them wonderful meals I know you’ll be makin’.”
    “I’m afraid my cooking will be less than satisfactory at first.” She looked away, embarrassed at her lack of culinary skill.
    Ryder reached her in a few quick strides, took her in his arms, and pulled her close. Her head fell back at the action and exposed her throat. He bent his head, kissed her neck and whispered. “I’ll teach ya, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He kissed her again, this time repeatedly, and worked his way up to her ear lobe. “Besides, if’n I teach ya how to cook, then I’ll get things done the way I like.”
    Her knees went weak and she slumped in his arms. “I … I … hope I can learn,” she gasped.
    “Ahhhh Sugar,” he breathed against her ear. “I’ll be teachin’ ya all kinds of things. Ya just wait and see.” His mouth found hers, and he kissed her fully, just as he did the night before when he held her in his lap. Her knees gave way, and she almost collapsed. If he hadn’t been holding her, she surely would have.
    He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, his own a deep brown. “You sure do taste sweet. I might never have to have dessert again,” he said, his voice low and husky.
    She swallowed. Her insides were flipping all over the place, and she