Free Adela's Prairie Suitor (The Annex Mail-Order Brides Book 1) by Elaine Manders Page B

shouldn’t be handling men’s under clothes.”
    Adela started to laugh at such silliness, but the woman looked serious. “Shouldn’t you go check on your jelly?” That was true. Adela wiped her hands on her apron and trekked back to the kitchen.
    She strained the syrup and put it back on the stove to magically turn into jelly. The stuff bubbled and thickened, but refused to jell. Adela went back over the directions. She thought about going back outside and asking Mrs. Calhoun, but decided she was just being impatient. Besides, she was afraid to turn her back on the pot. It had boiled over once and a hideous smell of burnt syrup permeated the kitchen.
    After the stove cooled, she’d have to clean that up. In the meantime, she raised the kitchen window and breathed in the cool air. Making jelly was a hot, endless job. She didn’t remember it being this much trouble. By this time, her apron and a good bit of her dress was covered in amber syrup that stuck to her arms and legs.
    No matter what she did, it became evident after a couple more hours the stuff wasn’t going to jell, and she was at the point she didn’t care. If Mrs. Calhoun came in to complain, Adela would take the whole pot to the pig pen and let them eat it out of the pot. Give Mrs. Calhoun something to really complain about.
    But when Mrs. Calhoun came in to fix supper, she just shrugged. “Sometimes it won’t jell. Nothing you can do about it.”
    Byron came in. Adela had hoped to take a bath and change clothes before he saw her.
    “What’s that I smell so good?” he asked.
    Somehow that struck her as funny. As if one could think burnt syrup smelled good. She started giggling and couldn’t stop. “I made a mess of your crabapple jelly, Byron.” Another burst of giggles followed, though she noticed both Mrs. Calhoun and Byron looking at her in a strange way. “I guess you’ll have to settle for syrup.”
    Byron found a teaspoon and dipped it into the gooey mess and popped it in his mouth. “It’s good, Adela. Really good.” He pointed with his spoon. “You have the jars all ready. I’ll pour it in for you.”
    Laughter died in her throat, and she sent him a hard look. Was he serious? He wanted to can the syrup. Whoever heard of such a thing? Mrs. Calhoun hadn’t. She just rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.
    Byron was serious. He took a towel and, holding the sides of the pot, lifted it off the stove. Adela stared as he filled each of the four jars, then fell into a chair and burst into tears. He was only doing this to make her feel good, which was the sweetest thing she’d ever known.
    With a glance of alarm, Byron returned the pot to the stove. He squatted down beside Adela. “What’s wrong? It really is good, no sense in wasting it.”
    She pulled the end of her apron to her face and sobbed into it. “You don’t have to do that to spare my feelings.”
    “I’m not, honestly.” He looked around as if for inspiration, then sprang to his feet. Returning a moment later, he held out a biscuit left over from breakfast. “Look.”
    Adela peeped over the edge of her wadded apron. He poked a hole in the biscuit with his finger and spooned some of the crabapple syrup in the indention. Taking a bite, he smacked his lips. “Gooood. Here take a bite.” He waved the biscuit in front of her like she were a small child he was trying to get to eat.
    She’d have to humor him. After dropping her apron, she took the biscuit and sank her teeth into it, chewing thoughtfully. Her eyes widened as the tangy sweetness exploded in her mouth. “It is good.” Who would have believed crabapple would taste like nectar?
    “Sure. We can put it on flapjacks, biscuits, maybe even baste a ham with it. You’ve invented a whole new dish, Adela.” He laughed. “You’re not the first one to discover a good thing by accident. Pasteur discovered how to vaccinate for diseases by accident I heard.”
    She had the feeling he wanted her to know he wasn’t