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Книга довольно хорошо написана в виде рассказов старого человека молодому парню, основанных на событиях его реальной жизни, охватывающей период с нача...
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Smoke River Bride
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Teddy kept his eyes fixed on Thad’s hand breaking open the biscuit. “Dunno.”
“We have any butter?”
“Not yet,” Leah answered. “I have not collected enough cream to churn.”
“How about jam? Some in the pantry, I think. Blackberry. Get it for her, would ya, Teddy?”
Teddy bolted from the table and, before Thad could draw breath, returned with a half-empty jar of last year’s jam. “Here, Pa. Bet she doesn’t know anything about makin’ jam.”
Thad bit into his biscuit. “Good,” he pronounced. “Even without jam.”
The boy’s face lit up. “Have another one, Pa.”
Thad moved his gaze from his son to Leah, who was studying the two intact eggs that still lay on his plate. He picked up his knife and whacked one in two, then attacked the other. The soft yolk spilled over his fingers, but it tasted okay, just like an egg. Sure was an odd way to serve them, though.
He glanced around the warm kitchen and felt something inside him catch. This was like it used to be when Hattie was alive—eating breakfast around the kitchen table. But it wasn’t Hattie sitting across from him; it was a woman he scarcely knew.
Lord in Heaven, what had he done?
He’d changed his life, changed his son’s life, in a way that could not be altered. Part of him didn’t like it one bit. Another part of him, a part he kept hidden even from himself, did like it. It was like spring after a long, bleak winter.
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Книга довольно хорошо написана в виде рассказов старого человека молодому парню, основанных на событиях его реальной жизни, охватывающей период с нача...
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