The Unexpected Wife(27)

Miss Smyth stirred her pot. Her movements weren’t as unsure as Elise’s had been. Instead, she moved with efficient precision. Every action had a purpose. He couldn’t imagine her sitting by the river reading poetry as Elise had or daydreaming about taking a steamer to Paris. Elise’s gentility had been what had attracted him. She was the mirror opposite to his raw wild nature, coaxing him back from the wilderness with her soft words and tender smiles.

Miss Smyth was no-nonsense. She wasn’t the kind of woman who cajoled. She ordered, a trait he was more than happy to see.

“How was your day, Mr. Barrington?” Her voice was cheery and she sounded genuinely interested.

“It was fine.”

She wrapped a cloth around her hand and peeked in the oven at a skillet of cornbread. “I didn’t know if you preferred biscuits or cornbread so I made both.”

“I like both,” he said, stunned at her efficiency.

“Did you find your herd?”

“They were right where I left them. The storm didn’t do as much damage as I feared. I accounted for all the calves.”

“I’ve a good bit to learn about ranching.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Hard work and luck is all a man needs to succeed.”

“I suspect you are a hard worker.” She inserted a knife in the cornbread. Satisfied when it came out clean, she removed the pan from the oven.

“It’s the luck I lack.”

She smiled, looking at him. “Well, perhaps that has changed.”

He found himself relaxing, and then caught himself. Perhaps because he’d not had anyone ask him about his day in so long. This easy conversation made him feel just a little too married. “I’ve learned not to count on anything.”

“You men wash up,” she said, her smile a little less relaxed. “Dinner’s ready.”

“We got to wash our hands again?” Quinn said. “But we washed before breakfast and lunch. Ain’t we clean enough?”

“Aren’t we clean enough,” Miss Smyth corrected.

“They had a bath recently,” Matthias said.

“They’ve been rummaging around on the floor since lunchtime.” She nodded toward the sink. “There’s water in the basin and a rag to wash.”

The three washed, but none was happy about it, including Matthias.

“I like Abby,” Quinn said.

“Is she going to be our new mother?” Tommy said.

Matthias pulled in a deep breath. “She’s just helping me out for the summer.”

“She acts like a mother,” Tommy said.

Quinn wiped his damp hands on his pants. “Tommy called her ma twice today.”

Tommy looked up at his father, clearly unsure.

Matthias swallowed the jolt of anger. “It’s okay, son.”

Tommy looked relieved and they headed back to the table.

However, despite his words, Matthias’s anger spread like wildfire in August. It made no sense to him. The boys had asked fair questions, and it wasn’t Tommy’s fault that he’d called Miss Smyth “Ma.” But it did bother him that Miss Smyth had slipped into Elise’s role so easily. And what added salt to the wound was that Miss Smyth was doing a better job than Elise.

When they sat at the table, Miss Smyth set a pot of hot beans on the table. It had been a long time since he’d eaten a hot meal in his house and even though he knew it was rude he didn’t thank Miss Smyth. Instead, he fell on the food. He served a plateful to each boy as they grabbed corncakes off the tin platter. Without a word exchanged between the three, they dug in.

Several minutes passed before he realized Miss Smyth wasn’t eating. She sat primly in her seat, her hands folded in front of her, staring at them as if they’d grown horns.

Matthias set his fork down. It clanged against the plate a little too loudly. He was itching for a fight, if only to prove that he wasn’t all that impressed with what Miss Smyth had done here today. “Something wrong?”

“It’s customary to say prayers before a meal.” Her voice sounded so damn reasonable. She snapped open her napkin and spread it over her lap.

He scowled. “We have never bothered with such formalities out here.” In truth, they had when Elise had been healthy, but that had been so long ago.

Her chin lifted a notch at his stare, which had sent grown men running for cover. “Perhaps it’s time you started.”

His temper strained against good sense. “I don’t see why.”

“Don’t you want better for the boys? Don’t you want to see them grow up to be gentlemen who can move in polite circles?”

Deep inside, he saw the reason behind her words, but the burr under his skin wouldn’t let him walk away. “Lady, the cows on the range and the trail bosses don’t care if the boys know a bunch of useless society nonsense. All I care about is that they grow up to be honest and hard-working men.”