Prairie Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

me, I'll talk to 'im," he said.
    That was all she was going to think about that. She had enough to
deal with, now that Jesse's mother and nephew were coming. Amy packed their
lunch things and watched Jesse lope down the grassy lawn to join a group of
men.
    ***
    Jesse no longer knew his wife. She wasn't the woman he'd married.
She wasn't the woman who'd lain beside him in the intimate stillness of a
winter night and shared dreams and feelings. She wasn't the woman who'd once
loved him so fiercely and well that he'd thought his heart would burst to
overflowing.
    He lay on the bunk in the stark room he'd taken and stared at the
knotholes in the pine ceiling. He could remember so many details of their life
together that the memories drove him crazy long into the night.
    As cavalry soldiers, he and Sam had met at Fort Kearny during the
war. Jesse'd been making a profit selling horses to the Army, and Sam had homesteaded
land in Nebraska. Seeing the need for way stations, they put their heads
together and came up with the plan to build one in a prime location. They
worked out their partnership, and after the war ended, scouted and purchased
land with access to water and grazing ranges. It was agreed that the stables
came first; horses would be their security and the base of their operation. But
until the business prospered, Sam had to provide a roof overhead for his wife
and daughter, so once the stables and barns were built, construction began on a
sod house.
    Jesse remembered the first time he saw Amy. Sam's wife, Vanessa,
and his eighteen-year-old daughter had arrived by wagon, bringing supplies and
furniture. He'd been surprised that very first day to see Sam's daughter climb
down unaided from the wagon she'd driven, using the spokes of the wheel as a
step, and turn to help her mother.
    From beneath her bonnet, honey-colored hair hung down her back in
waves, and she carried herself in a capable and confident manner. She'd spotted
her father stacking blocks of sod to form the base of the house and had taken
off running. Her bonnet fell back, and the sun glistened from that shiny, thick
hair.
    Sam Burnham had stopped and straightened, and a smile that would
have lit the prairie night split his face. He plucked off his gloves, tossed
them down and ran forward to greet her.
    She locked her arms around his neck and he swung her in a circle,
her laughter floating like a melody on the air.
    "Whoo, Daddy, you smell like a goat!" she'd scolded him,
backing away and inspecting his stained clothing.
    Neither he nor Jesse had bothered to launder their clothes since
they'd run out of clean a week or more ago.
    "And you smell like a spring flower," Sam replied.
    Jesse gazed at the curvy young lady wearing a pale green dress,
who looked as fresh as a new day, then glanced at his own clothing. He'd been
plowing sod behind a pair of oxen for two days, and his boots were caked with
mud and manure, his dungarees stiff with dirt. He smelled like the backside of
a buffalo. He stayed where he was.
    Amy Burnham's attention shifted to him, and he was caught off
guard by how dark her eyes were—he'd expected blue, but discovered them a rich
caramel color. She looked him over, head to toe, an assessing but not critical
inspection.
    Vanessa joined them then, her greeting less exuberant than her
daughter's. Sam kissed his wife on the cheek and she took her fill of gazing at
him, as though she was making up for the weeks apart.
    "Jesse," Sam said finally, gesturing for him to come
closer. "This is my wife, Vanessa, and my daughter, Amy. Ladies, this is
Jesse. My partner."
    Jesse doffed his hat then, but he stopped a good five feet away
from the women. "Ma'am," he said with a polite nod. "Miss
Burnham."
    "You're younger than I expected," Mrs. Burnham said.
    "I'm older than I was yesterday," he replied with a
grin.
    Vanessa Burnham looked him over. "You're young for a man so
financially solvent," she explained.
    "I've caught, broke and sold a lot of horses