his breath. Women and tears. Heâd forgotten how easy it was to hurt their feelings, especially about womanly things. He fell into his chair, removing his hat. âI didnât mean to hurt your feelings, Sarah, but at the end of the day I want to come home and sit down in my chair in its usual place.â He paused, waiting for the tears to let up. âFlo knows I donât want the furniture moved.â
âEven if itâs a better arrangement?â
âI like my furniture kept in the same place, okay? If you want to move something, move the porch furniture.â
âWho cares about porch furniture? A woman leaves her mark on her houseââ
âPlease leave things alone,â he said, more gently this time. âFlo knows how I like things kept.â
Sarahâs brown eyes snapped. â Floâs not your wife. I am.â
âFlo has taken care of me for twenty-eight years. Youâre going to have to live with that.â When he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he mentally kicked himself. Marriage was going to take some getting used to. âIâm not spoiling for a fight, Sarah. I only meanâ¦â he paused, sniffing the air. âWhatâs burning?â
Sarahâs jaw dropped. âThe corn bread!â She raced out of the room and into the kitchen, where smoke was rolling out of the oven. Walker followed her, pitching the smudged seed catalog onto the table.
Grabbing an oven mitt, she opened the door and reached for the pan of corn bread. A plume of smoke billowed out of the oven, and she jerked back as a blast of hot air and flames assaulted her and burned her arm.
âHere, Iâll get that.â Walker stepped in and took the mitt away fromher, and she moved away to smear butter on the burn. He extracted the corn bread, tossed the skillet on top of the stove, and beat out the flames with a dish towel. âThere. Fireâs out.â
Sarah sank onto a kitchen chair and buried her face in her sooty hands. âIâm so sorry.â She was more than sorry, she was mortified. What wife didnât know how to bake corn bread?
Hands coming to his hips, Walker shifted stances. âDid you burn yourself?â
âYes.â
He reached for her arm and examined the burn. âItâs not bad.â
âFlo told me to watch the bread and not let it burn, but I was busy arguing with you about that silly chair.â
He glanced at the smoking skillet and sighed. âI like burned corn bread.â
Flo came into the kitchen, fanning smoke with her apron. âWhatâs goinâ on?â
Walker pointed to the smoldering pan.
Flo focused on Sarah, who dabbed butter on her arm. Floâs eyes switched back to Walker. He shrugged. âLand sakes,â Flo said, eyeing the damage. âIâll stir up a new batch.â
âSet the food on the table, Flo.â Walker winked at Sarah. âTonightâs corn bread will make a man appreciate good cooking when he gets it.â
âSarah.â
Sarah opened one eye to see Walker inches from her face the following morning. He shook her shoulder again lightly.
âGet dressed. Weâre going to town.â
Sarah propped herself up on one elbow. He seemed in an unusually good mood, especially after the humiliating incidents of the night before. After supper, Sarah had gone to their room and pretended to be asleep when he finally came to bed. Sheâd been Mrs. Walker McKay one day, and already sheâd stirred up enough trouble to last a month.Maybe Walker wanted her to get up so he could send her homeâwas that why they were going into town?
âWhy?â
âErrands. Put on something presentable. Weâll be leaving in half an hour.â
Walker left the room and Sarah rolled onto her back. Wadsyâs amused face danced in front of her. Done cut off your nose to spite your face, havenât ya, baby girl?
Sarah spotted a cup of coffee