Mail Order Romance Bundle #1 Read Online Free Page B

another quiet, lonely night was a pleasant change, even for an introvert such as himself. Especially because in the short time he'd known her, he found Enid to be a good listener and good company.
    That thought was invigorating and infused him with such a positive energy that he soon found himself humming. It was an old hymn that Aunt Clara had taught him, one that was upbeat and filled him with hope. The time he spent doing chores practically flew by and soon he was back at the house.
    He was coming up the front steps carrying a pail full of fresh milk when the smell hit him, it was mouthwatering and better than any smell that had come from his kitchen since he'd lived there.
    Once inside, he found the table set and Enid standing over the stove.
    “It smells awful good!” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face.
    Enid turned around, beaming. “Well, you may want to reserve comment until you've tasted it. I just cooked up what you had here, so I'm sure it won't be a big surprise to you.”
    She brought the frying pan to the table to fill their plates as Jesse went to wash up. When he met her back at the table, he saw his plate was filled with fried potatoes, onions and salt pork and she'd made cornbread to go along with it.
    Though Enid was right and the simple ingredients were not a surprise to him, the magic she created with those ingredients was. Jesse couldn't remember the last time he'd had a meal that good. It was just a simple meal but the way it had been prepared was much different than his own cooking.
    “How did you get the potatoes like that?” he asked Enid. “They're so soft yet perfectly crispy on the outside. When I try to fry potatoes, they usually turn out one of two ways, raw or burned black.”
    Enid laughed. “The trick is to make sure to cover them as they cook. That will steam them, making the insides soft while the outsides fry up crisp.”
    “Thanks for the tip, that must be it because I've never covered them before. What about the cornbread? It's so moist and delicious? Mine is always dry and crumbly.”
    She smiled slyly. “Well now, Mr. Collins, a cook can't give away all her secrets now, can she?”
    Jesse laughed as he leaned back and patted his stomach. He knew it would be a long time before he had a meal as good as that one. As he sat back, relaxed, Enid stood up and began clearing some of the dishes. He watched her as she stood and began to clear the dishes, her upper body swinging back and forth as she limped. Immediately, he jumped up and took the plates from her hands.
    “Here, let me help you with that, please,” he told her.
    “Nonsense, I'm your guest and I intend to earn my keep,” Enid answered, taking the plates back from him.
    Her tone was friendly yet firm so he relinquished the dishes without fuss. She tilted her head and gave him another look, her clear blue eyes piercing his own.
    “It doesn't hurt, you know, if that's what you're worried about.”
    Jesse was taken aback. “What?”
    “It doesn't hurt,” she said again, setting the plates down and pointing to her hunched back.
    “It looks like it does, I know. Everybody thinks so, and by the looks of this twisted body, I don't blame them one bit. But I was born that way; twisted, I mean. My body is built differently than most, it makes me limp and wobble when I walk and I can't stand fully upright. It might make me slower to get around and I won't be winning any foot races, but it doesn't hurt me any.”
    She must have taken notice of the sympathetic look in Jesse's eyes, for as she picked the plates up again, she added, “And please, don't feel sorry for me, there's no need to waste your sympathy. My father told me right away from the time I was knee high to a mosquito that I was not to ever feel sorry for myself, that I could do everything other kids could do, but it was just going to take more work to do it. He loved me dearly but he never coddled me or let me use my condition as an excuse. He didn't