First Comes Marriage

“It’s okay, I’ll pick some up in town today.”

“Good luck with that.” Mr. Cregg owned the only store in Hell’s Bells, and he was about to lose a major bet thanks to Meera.

She leaned against the counter, pressing a hand to her head, as if massaging a headache.

He sighed. She was all alone in a new place. The least he could do was to be nice and stop giving her a hard time about everything.

“I left you a plate of bacon, sausage and eggs.” He motioned toward the heaping plate on the counter.

She swallowed, and her nose twitched.

What now?

“Do you have any toast?”

He pointed to the bread box.

“I’ll just have that.”

He bristled. “I’m a pretty decent cook, you know, and the bacon and sausage are fresh from the ranch.”

“When you say ‘from the ranch’...what exactly do you mean?”

He looked at her quizzically. “I mean we raise the animals here.”

“And then slaughter them?”

“That’s what ranchers do.”

Her lips curved downward. “Well, that’s something to think about.”

Now she was rubbing her temples with both hands. He studied her carefully. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“With whatever’s making you look like someone’s drilling your brain.”

“Oh, it’s just that...I’m a vegetarian.”

“What?”

“A vegetarian. I don’t eat meat or any product that requires killing a living—”

“I know what a vegetarian is. Look at you, all bones, it’s no wonder.”

“Please tell me you don’t raise cows here, to be killed.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “It’s a cattle ranch!” He motioned at the grazing cattle outside.

She grabbed the back of a seat. Her caffe-latte skin paled. He pulled a seat out, encouraging her to sit down, and she slumped into the chair. The last thing he needed was for the doctor to require medical attention. She muttered to herself.

“What is it?”

She began to say something, then closed her mouth.

“Oh, come on.”

“Well...just that... I was raised as a Hindu. We believe the cow is a sacred animal and hurting one, or being anywhere near where one is being tortured, may bring bad karma for an entire lifetime...and possibly the next several lives.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“You’re a doctor, right? You went to medical school? Where they teach you about the brain and science and how the universe works?”

She glared at him. “This isn’t about science. Even if you don’t believe in reincarnation, you’re raising a living organism for the sole purpose of killing it.”

“The animal provides us with food.”

“There is plenty of plant-based food for us to eat. We don’t need to live at the expense of another being.”

“The animals only exist because I bring them into the world for food.”

“And it’s wrong to create something just to destroy it. In my culture, the cow is sacred because it gives us milk...it gives us life. We call it gai mata, mother cow. For generations she has fed us, and the karma of killing her—”

“Cows are considered sacred because your ancestors used them to plough the fields and didn’t want people to kill them for meat in times of famine. It was a practical decision, not a spiritual one.”

She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“I would ask that you not mock my beliefs. I’m not asking you to stop cattle ranching, just explaining my reservations. I’ll see about finding some other accommodations in town today.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

She blew out a sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands.

Jake suppressed a smile. Why am I enjoying this? He studied the small hands cradling her head. She looked so fragile.

Wait... He went to the pantry and rummaged around. He knew he’d seen this. He handed her a box, and she looked at him gratefully. She opened it and took out a tea bag, reading the label. “Fertility tea?” she asked with amusement.

He swore under his breath. No good deed goes unpunished.

He shrugged. “It probably belongs to one of the ranch hands. I don’t ask questions,” he said quickly. It was Jolene’s tea. Why was Jolene drinking fertility tea?

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” he said. “There’s work to do.”

She nodded and stood up. “May I rummage in your cupboards for a cup and kettle?”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

He didn’t miss her pursing her lips as she turned around, moving about his kitchen, opening cabinets. He absently noted that she was wearing flat-footed sandals with a strap that went up her delicate ankle and ended in a bow in the middle of her calf. Did all women wear shoes like that?