He ate whatever he cooked on the trail, good or not.Brenda’s reaction, though, was decidedly different.“How can you eat that?” she gasped, after...one bite. He was shoveling food into his mouth with the efficiency of a man on the trail, wanting to get done with the necessities, and be on his horse.“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, taking time to actually taste, and answer his own question. Male pride kept him from voicing how badly it tasted, though.“I’m surprised you’re alive if you eat like. You know that this iswhere you belong, and if you are still uncertain don't worry, over timeyou'll get used to it and being the lady of the house will become secondnature. Or would you rather leave, broke and penniless, being shunnedby your friends, without hope of a job, living on the streets as afreak, an object of constant ridicule? Be the 'lady' Tiffany," hefinished as he pulled me to him tightly.I did as I was forced to do, I let out a breathy feminine sigh thenswooned into his arms like. More

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