A Mail Order Bride for the Miner (Love by Mail #2)(9)

He followed eager to try the food that left such an intriguing scent in the air. Though after a day at the mines he could eat just about anything.

Hank was about to place his hat and tools on the hallway floor, when he noticed the trail of grime and dust he led inside.

"Oh ya big lug," he muttered under his breath.

But Sarah must have heard it as she followed his gaze and then looked back at Hank.

"Oh don’t worry, that’s all right. It’s just dust." She waved her hand dismissively at the footprints.

"After all the t-trouble you - you went to..." Hank rubbed his face. "Sorry. I was - I shoulda placed the t-tools in the shed first. I - I forgot."

"No, really, it’s all right. You can put your tools on the floor or wherever they usually live."

He studied the big smile on her face. Sarah didn’t look upset, but maybe she was hiding her annoyance or disappointment with him. Land sakes! Did his Pa have such a hard time with Ma when they got married? He put down his sack on the floor next to the tools.

"There’s a basin of water near the kitchen. You can wash your hands there. Gumbo’ll be ready.”

“Gumbo?” and she was cooking, too…

“Claire helped me,” she said and then quickly added. “But I told her what goes in the pot.”

Hank went to the basin and washed his hands, neck, and face. In the corner of his eye he watched Sarah moving from the kitchen to the dining table and back. When she stood close to pick a few plates from the cupboard he caught a whiff of jasmine. She smelled so nice…

He glanced up and caught his own reflection in the well polished silver platter. His hands were clean but his clothes were in a right state! He looked down at the plaid shirt stained with sweat and grime. A whiff of his armpit made his nose wrinkle. On his way to the table he took it off leaving just the dark undershirt.

Sarah waiting for him patiently at the set table ready to say Grace as they always did before the meal. Hank eyed the small pot of thick soup in the middle as Sarah gave him a small bowl and poured some in.

“Smells delicious!” He inhaled the strong scent before placing the bowl before him.

“My family used to have this every fall.” Sarah said down with her own portion. “It’s called gumbo. It’s made of some pork, celery, bell peppers –"

“Sounds like you worked hard on this.”

Sarah blushed. “I had a lot of help from Claire.”

“Claire?”

“Yes, she came to visit. I tried to set the fire…” Sarah paused and went quiet for a moment, but continued before Hank could get a word in. “I couldn’t do it Hank. But Claire, bless her soul, was there, so she lit the fire and we cooked together.”

She put on a smile, but her eyes were dark. But you’re so brave, don’t you see? he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her a lot of things, but he didn’t want to trip on his own tongue and make dinner awkward. So instead he just held her hand and squeezed it gently.

“It’s a-alright. Will you say Grace?”

They bowed their heads together and she thanked the Lord for the food and the help she received. Thank goodness he wasn’t the one to say the word, as he wasn’t sure his grumbling stomach could wait any longer.

"I love it," Hank said half of his bowl already gone. The thick, hot, spicy, and sweet meal went down a treat. He’d never had anything like it.

“Thank you.” She said, but he could see there was something else on her mind as her eyes wondered out the window.

“What is it Sarah?”

"Uh," Sarah began, "Hank, I was wondering... Back home, I had a job - I was a physician’s assistant. I helped the town doctor."

Hank nodded and took another sip of his soup.

She stirred her soup and took small bites of the meat. "I was thinking about asking the town physician for a job."

Hank raised a brow. "Why?”

Sarah blinked at him. "Why? I - I want to help. I mean, I’d like to do something with my time."

Hank furrowed both his brows. His Ma had never worked outside the home. She cooked, fed the chickens, grew vegetables in their backyard, made all their clothes, and raised the children. Why did Sarah need to work? Did he not earn enough to provide for them both? Sure Sarah wasn’t his Ma, but...

"I – I d-don’t know."

Sarah continued to look at him as if waiting to hear more. This marriage business sure was harder than mining for gold. Was he supposed to say something else? He didn’t want to outright say ‘no’. He was lucky to have such a pretty and smart wife who could read and write and cook. But work? What would the townsfolk say? He didn’t know what to say, as to not offend his wife, so he just focused on his meal and finished the gumbo.

He was about to get up from his seat when the lantern dimmed out.

Hank let out a loud sigh. "Needa ch-change the kerosene."

He expected some response, but Sarah stayed silent. He could make out her still as stone silhouette against the moonlight shining through the windows.

Hank shuffled over to the kitchen and felt around for a thick candle and a matchbox. He found the later, but the candles were gone from their usual place.

“S-sarah, where did you p-put the candles?” he called out to her.