Soon Iris and her new husband would come home from the temple and cut the cake.LESLIE KELLY has written more than two dozen books and novellas for Blaze ® and Temptation. She looked back at the cake, remembering how wonderful the kitchen had smelled last night as she removed the pans from the oven under Iris's anxious eyes. The glacé fruits were cooling in the icebox along with the raspberry ring, which was frozen in the copper mold. Julia glanced through the open door into the dining room with its genteel mounds of mints, plates of petit fours, bowls of nuts, and stuffed raisins nestled on Mama's best candy plate. Still, it had been fun to come home in May from Boston, knowing she had kitchen skills her younger sister could put to use. Only someone besotted with love would ever get married in Salt Lake City in August, and the summer 1909 had proved to be a scorcher. It was better in Mama's kitchen, where she could pull up her skirts and fan herself. She smiled at the memory of Miss Farmer zooming around in her wheelchair, not missing a thing. There were days at Fannie Farmer's Cooking School when she could scarcely move after hours of working at the granite-topped tables, creating edibles good enough to suit Miss Farmer. What a relief they were not puffy from the last two days of moving steadily from cooking stove to sink to counter. She sat down and pulled up her skirt and petticoat to look at her feet. When I marry, she thought, I intend to be totally serene and in complete control of my faculties. Julia added more royal icing to one last spot. “I told your mother last week that it would be better to bury Iris and dig her up right before the wedding,” Papa had confided. It was their private joke in the kitchen that morning, far from the upstairs bedroom where Iris had insisted on tighter lacing, and Mama had insisted that if the laces were any tighter, Iris would faint in the Garden Room. “But I'm a little relieved to be turning her over to a husband.” “Because she'll get all small-eyed and jittery.” He had then looked around cautiously. Hadn't Papa joked that Nebuchadnezzar would be quite at home with that cake? “Don't tell Iris this,” he had whispered to her. She walked around the cake, decorated with enough flowers to satisfy a Babylonian. “I will be sore all night, Iris,” she said out loud as she admired her work. Ulia Darling slid the last little rose onto her sister's wedding cake and then pressed her hand into the small of her back. If you do not have it, how can you stand? Each will have to be guided by the light within himself. On the Upper Missouri: The Journal of Rudolphįort Buford: Sentinel at the Confluence he time will come when no man or woman will be able to endure on borrowed light. Here's to the Ladies: Stories of the Frontier Army To the memory of Doc and Ora Simons, Torrington, Wyoming,Īnd to my dear friends Kathryn and Neal Kelly, Torrington, Wyoming. PS3561.E3928B67 2010 813'.54-dc22Ĭover design by Angela Olsen Cover design © 2011 by Lyle Mortimer Edited and typeset by Melissa J. 700 S., Springville, UT 84663 Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc., LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA Kelly, Carla. Published by Bonneville Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc., 2373 W. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as real. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Cedar Fort, Inc., or any other entity.
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