Michelle: Bride of Mississippi (American Mail-Order Bride 20) Read Online Free PDF Page B

she sat. Mable poked her head in and said, “I’ll be back in a jiffy. You all talk amongst yourselves.”
    “Were you able to rest?” Anthony asked as he flicked his linen napkin and placed it on her lap. She looked down at her plate, picked up her napkin and went through the same motions.
    “I think she was sleeping when we went to get her,” Mattie said as she climbed on one of the chairs opposite Michelle.
    “No, I wasn’t. I’d already woken up,” Michelle fibbed as she glanced around the room. “I do feel quite rested, though, thank you. And much cleaner.”
    Missy giggled and put her napkin in her lap. “You looked pretty tired before.”
    Michelle smiled at what she hoped was an innocent comment. She knew she’d looked a little frazzled, but hoped it wasn’t too bad.
    As Anthony asked the girls about their day, she glanced around the grand dining room and up to the crystal chandelier overhead. Portraits lined the walls and she couldn’t help but notice that they were all of what looked to be Anthony and his sister, as young children and then adults. She looked from the portrait of the young woman that hung behind the girls and then down to them. Yes, that had to be their mother. The resemblance was striking. She looked at Anthony from the corner of her eye and the resemblance was striking there, too. Had they been twins?
    Over in the corner stood a very tall piece of furniture, filled with shelves, its doors made of rounded glass. She’d seen one before at the house of a friend--a rich friend--and that one had been filled with silver, crystal statues and beautiful serving dishes. She cocked her eyebrow as she looked more closely at this one--it was empty.
    Both of the twins clapped their hands together and their eyes grew wide. Michelle followed their gaze to a beaming Mable walking in with a big platter upon which sat the most delicious-looking, browned chicken Michelle thought she had ever seen.
    Anthony smiled and stood as Mable set the platter in the middle of the table.
    “I want a drumstick,” Mattie said as she leaned forward on the table.
    Missy stuck out her bottom lip. “You always get the drumstick.”
    “That’s because I ask first.” Mattie hadn’t taken her eyes off the chicken.
    “Girls, last I checked there were two drumsticks, and I’m sure if you convince Mr. Anthony and Miss Michelle, they’ll let you have them.”
    Mable turned to the buffet, serving each of them mashed potatoes and some kind of green stringy vegetable Michelle had never seen before as Anthony carved the chicken.
    “Yes, a drumstick for each of you,” he said as he placed one on each of the girls’ plates. The girls giggled, but Anthony stood up and frowned, turning to Michelle. “That is, of course, unless you want one.”
    Michelle laughed. “No, I wouldn’t dream of taking one. I prefer white meat, anyway.”
    Anthony looked relieved as he set some chicken breast on her plate.
    Michelle inhaled deeply as she poured from the beautiful, patterned china gravy boat. She’d only seen china like this once before, also at her wealthy friend’s house.
    The food was incredibly delicious, Anthony explaining that the green stringy vegetable was called, “greens” and was a staple on most southern tables. Michelle had never been a picky eater, grateful for anything, and she tried a bite, smiling as it melted in her mouth. She thought she tasted bacon, and wasn’t sure at all how they’d been prepared. No matter how, they were wonderful.
    When they’d finished, Michelle stood to help clear the table. The girls picked up their plates and followed Mable into the kitchen. As she reached for the platter holding the chicken, Anthony touched her arm. She looked over at him, his touch warm.
    “Sit for a moment, won’t you? They’ll be busy for a bit getting dessert.”
    She set the platter down and sat, setting her knife and fork on her plate. With a full belly, her head turned back to her day tomorrow--the