Montana Wife (Historical)
“Startled by the disruption, Rayna set three pans of bread on the stovetop to cool, if such a thing were possible in the stifling heat.
No breeze stirred the lace curtains as she tossed the hot pad on the table and hurried through the rooms. Her youngest was upstairs taking a nap, for his sleep during the last few nights had been interrupted by nightmares and she did not want him startled awake.
She yanked open the door just in time to see old man Dayton with his beefy fist in the air, ready to ...knock a second time. The man clothed in trousers and sweat-stained muslin spit a stream of tobacco juice across the porch into the dirt at the roots of her favorite rosebush.
Not a benevolent man. He hadn’t come for a pleasant visit.
She might as well stand her ground from the start. “Your son was here earlier. I’ve found someone else to harvest the fields for me.”
“I saw that tenderfoot from Kentucky haul his old threshing machine down the road past my place.” Another stream shot across her porch.MoreLess
No breeze stirred the lace curtains as she tossed the hot pad on the table and hurried through the rooms. Her youngest was upstairs taking a nap, for his sleep during the last few nights had been interrupted by nightmares and she did not want him startled awake.
She yanked open the door just in time to see old man Dayton with his beefy fist in the air, ready to ...knock a second time. The man clothed in trousers and sweat-stained muslin spit a stream of tobacco juice across the porch into the dirt at the roots of her favorite rosebush.
Not a benevolent man. He hadn’t come for a pleasant visit.
She might as well stand her ground from the start. “Your son was here earlier. I’ve found someone else to harvest the fields for me.”
“I saw that tenderfoot from Kentucky haul his old threshing machine down the road past my place.” Another stream shot across her porch.MoreLess
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