Children of the Wildings Bonus Scene: Cheese Biscuits (Luthe’s Conversation with Mrs. Farnlund)
Luthe let out a chuckle that was half amused and half exasperated as he turned Sandy back towards the grub wagons clustered in the center of the camp. His watch partner Farnlund couldn’t help it if his wife’s cheese biscuits were the best biscuits in all the Wildings, Mrs. Vendine’s included – though she was otherwise acknowledged as one of the best cooks in the Wildings. Farnlund couldn’t help it if he couldn’t go more than an hour riding herd without eating one of his wife’s biscuits. And he couldn’t help it if the other fellows laughed at him every time he went back for another one.
Well, maybe he could help it, but when it came to a choice between his dignity and his wife’s cheese biscuits, Farnlund chose the biscuits every time. Except now, he had discovered that Luthe was a soft touch and would make the biscuit run for him. Luthe was always glad to help out a fellow cowhand in need. And Mrs. Farnlund always had a spare biscuit for him, too.
He wondered what she would say if he asked her to teach Vera how to make them.
If Vera made up her mind that marrying him was what she wanted to do.
The same old worry nibbled at his stomach. What if it wasn’t what she wanted? He pushed the worry away. He knew he hadn’t imagined the feelings he had seen in her eyes and that had come through in their kisses. She was young, that was all, and shy, and afraid of making a mistake, and needed time to get used to the idea of getting married.
Luthe left Sandy with the remounts wrangler rather than try to navigate her through the crowded camp, and walked over to the Canyon View grub wagon. Overhead, a dragon screeched and let out a long tongue of flame, as the creatures had been doing the last few nights. At least they hadn’t attacked yet. Word was that all available mages had been asked to join the herd to protect it from the threat of dragons, and Luthe hoped the critters would hold off until the mages got here. Though what even mages could do against dragons, he had no idea.
Mrs. Farnlund stood at the wooden serving table next to the wagon, serving a few latecomers their supper as she chatted with a few of the other women among the drive crew. She smiled when she saw him, already knowing what he was here for. She was beautiful, tall, blonde and fair, and well-formed, and sometimes Luthe worried that others might get the wrong idea about his coming around to her wagon so often when he was really supposed to be getting his meals at the Prairie Wells wagon. But everyone knew she and her husband were newly-married and crazy for each other, and everyone also knew about the cheese biscuits and Farnlund’s addiction to them. Some even said that was why he had married her.
Anyway, Luthe’s tastes ran to a more delicate build, Island-dark skin and eyes, and lush dark curls he could tangle his fingers in.
“Already?” Mrs. Farnlund greeted him with a laugh. “The night watch has hardly even started!”
Luthe laughed in return. “He says it’s nerves from the dragons making him hungry.”
Mrs. Farnlund’s laugh eased into a fond smile. “Well, I can hardly blame him for that. I think we’re all a little on edge.”
“I reckon if anything can cure a bad case of nerves, it’s your biscuits.”
Another laugh. “You’re too kind.”
“It’s only the truth. Your husband’s a wise man.”
“Hungry, anyway.” She wrapped a biscuit in a napkin, then another one for Luthe. “I hope the mages catch up to us soon. They’re supposed to be coming soon, anyway. Do you think your girl will come with them?”
Luthe had told Farnlund about Vera, during the long nights of riding watch on the herd, and of course Farnlund had told his wife about the mage girl, the Vendine daughter, whom Luthe loved and his hopes that she would agree to marry him. He repressed a leap of excitement at the thought that she might join the herd. “It’d be better if she didn’t, it might be dangerous.”
“She’s a Vendine, though. Isn’t she a powerful mage?”
“She is, but she’s also my gal – or I hope she’s my gal, still.”
Mrs. Farnlund gave him a gentle, understanding smile. “And you would worry about her, of course. Well, if it’ll make you feel better, if she comes, I’ll teach her how to make my biscuits. Does that help?”
Luthe laughed. “I think those biscuits can cure any ill.”
“If they can cure my husband of his confirmed bachelorhood, they can cure anything.”
They shared one more laugh over Farnlund’s foibles, then Luthe, juggling the two biscuits in one hand, tipped his hat to Mrs. Farnlund and turned away to fetch Sandy and return to his duties. He was vaguely aware of a movement of people in the camp, gathering for a meeting or something, but he was on watch and he couldn’t leave Farnlund alone out there any longer. Duty called; if something was going on, he would find out about it later.
* * *
Luthe let out a chuckle that was half amused and half exasperated as he turned Sandy back towards the grub wagons clustered in the center of the camp. His watch partner Farnlund couldn’t help it if his wife’s cheese biscuits were the best biscuits in all the Wildings, Mrs. Vendine’s included – though she was otherwise acknowledged as one of the best cooks in the Wildings. Farnlund couldn’t help it if he couldn’t go more than an hour riding herd without eating one of his wife’s biscuits. And he couldn’t help it if the other fellows laughed at him every time he went back for another one.
Well, maybe he could help it, but when it came to a choice between his dignity and his wife’s cheese biscuits, Farnlund chose the biscuits every time. Except now, he had discovered that Luthe was a soft touch and would make the biscuit run for him. Luthe was always glad to help out a fellow cowhand in need. And Mrs. Farnlund always had a spare biscuit for him, too.
He wondered what she would say if he asked her to teach Vera how to make them.
If Vera made up her mind that marrying him was what she wanted to do.
The same old worry nibbled at his stomach. What if it wasn’t what she wanted? He pushed the worry away. He knew he hadn’t imagined the feelings he had seen in her eyes and that had come through in their kisses. She was young, that was all, and shy, and afraid of making a mistake, and needed time to get used to the idea of getting married.
Luthe left Sandy with the remounts wrangler rather than try to navigate her through the crowded camp, and walked over to the Canyon View grub wagon. Overhead, a dragon screeched and let out a long tongue of flame, as the creatures had been doing the last few nights. At least they hadn’t attacked yet. Word was that all available mages had been asked to join the herd to protect it from the threat of dragons, and Luthe hoped the critters would hold off until the mages got here. Though what even mages could do against dragons, he had no idea.
Mrs. Farnlund stood at the wooden serving table next to the wagon, serving a few latecomers their supper as she chatted with a few of the other women among the drive crew. She smiled when she saw him, already knowing what he was here for. She was beautiful, tall, blonde and fair, and well-formed, and sometimes Luthe worried that others might get the wrong idea about his coming around to her wagon so often when he was really supposed to be getting his meals at the Prairie Wells wagon. But everyone knew she and her husband were newly-married and crazy for each other, and everyone also knew about the cheese biscuits and Farnlund’s addiction to them. Some even said that was why he had married her.
Anyway, Luthe’s tastes ran to a more delicate build, Island-dark skin and eyes, and lush dark curls he could tangle his fingers in.
“Already?” Mrs. Farnlund greeted him with a laugh. “The night watch has hardly even started!”
Luthe laughed in return. “He says it’s nerves from the dragons making him hungry.”
Mrs. Farnlund’s laugh eased into a fond smile. “Well, I can hardly blame him for that. I think we’re all a little on edge.”
“I reckon if anything can cure a bad case of nerves, it’s your biscuits.”
Another laugh. “You’re too kind.”
“It’s only the truth. Your husband’s a wise man.”
“Hungry, anyway.” She wrapped a biscuit in a napkin, then another one for Luthe. “I hope the mages catch up to us soon. They’re supposed to be coming soon, anyway. Do you think your girl will come with them?”
Luthe had told Farnlund about Vera, during the long nights of riding watch on the herd, and of course Farnlund had told his wife about the mage girl, the Vendine daughter, whom Luthe loved and his hopes that she would agree to marry him. He repressed a leap of excitement at the thought that she might join the herd. “It’d be better if she didn’t, it might be dangerous.”
“She’s a Vendine, though. Isn’t she a powerful mage?”
“She is, but she’s also my gal – or I hope she’s my gal, still.”
Mrs. Farnlund gave him a gentle, understanding smile. “And you would worry about her, of course. Well, if it’ll make you feel better, if she comes, I’ll teach her how to make my biscuits. Does that help?”
Luthe laughed. “I think those biscuits can cure any ill.”
“If they can cure my husband of his confirmed bachelorhood, they can cure anything.”
They shared one more laugh over Farnlund’s foibles, then Luthe, juggling the two biscuits in one hand, tipped his hat to Mrs. Farnlund and turned away to fetch Sandy and return to his duties. He was vaguely aware of a movement of people in the camp, gathering for a meeting or something, but he was on watch and he couldn’t leave Farnlund alone out there any longer. Duty called; if something was going on, he would find out about it later.
* * *
