Lou straightened the silverware at the two place settings for what felt like the thousandth time. This wasn't their first meal together or even their first as man and wife. But it was the first in their new home…the first she had cooked for him.

She took one last glance at the table when she heard Kid's boots on the porch. The house wasn't much but a room…but it was all theirs. It was their own space and theirs to make the way they wanted. The night before had been their first night and they had barely slept for laying awake and talking about their plans. He talked of adding to the small cottage style house once they were more firmly on their feet. Lou broached the subject of children. For as frightened as she had felt when the knitting needles and apron had been handed to her, looking forward to little ones underfoot and hugging her neck tightly was suddenly something she desired like little else.

Smoothing that very apron that had been given partly as a joke, she pushed an uncertain smile onto her face as Kid came through the door. Her heart flipped as his deep blue eyes sparkled at her. He shook his head as he gave a half laugh and flashed a loopy grin at her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"You don't have to do this."

"Do what? We got to eat."

"Yeah we got to eat," he conceded. "But the apron, the table…you standing here greeting me like this. It's not necessary. I don't want you to try to be something that don't feel natural just 'cause you think it's what I want. I just want the real you…not you playing pretend."

"Maybe this is part of who I really am," she said quietly. "Maybe I never got to try this part out before. Maybe I never felt safe showing this part."

Kid stepped toward her smiling once more and brushed her cheek tenderly with the back of his hand.

"Every part of you—of who you are—will always be safe with me," he whispered reverently.

Lou looked up at him with eyes shining and allowed those eyes to fall closed as he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. He pulled back from her and smiled wider.

"I guess I can't complain about anything you do when I come in and it smells this good in here."

"Let's hope it eats as good as it smells," she sighed. "I ain't so sure of my skills in the kitchen."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine," he assured her.

Lou tried to be reassured by his faith in her. Truth be told, she hated doing things she wasn't confident in. She especially hated her efforts while learning something to be on display to an audience—even if the audience was Kid. He always knew when she was insecure and not to tease her but she hated all the same for anyone to see her less than competent at anything.

She took his plate and brought it to the stove where things were keeping warm. Then she placed it gently in front of him. When she got settled with her own plate, she saw he was staring hungrily at the pork chop, carrots, potatoes and large biscuit. She looked at him wondering what was stopping him from eating but then he reached across the table and she understood. Taking his hand she bowed her head and waited for him to say the blessing.

His words were few and simple, hinting at his hunger and anticipation of the meal. That only made Lou worry more. She couldn't bring herself to even eat until she saw him take a bite. Furtively she looked up and watched in horror as he sawed, or attempted to saw, through the meat. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

Warily she began to try to cut her own pork chop and immediately wished she had Buck's knife. It might have been easier to cut through her own boots.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I ruined it."

"No," he replied quickly having succeeded in cutting a bite sized piece finally. "I don't think it's ruined."

He put the piece of meat in his mouth and closed his eyes.

"It tastes really good," he said around the mouthful of food that he was obviously having trouble chewing. At last he seemed to give up and swallowed it with the aid of a large gulp of water. "Let's see about these carrots."

Lou directed her attention to the carrots on her plate and her heart sank as she realized they had been cooked to such mush that toothless infants would have no trouble with them. She looked up to see Kid valiantly using his spoon to get them to his mouth. He then took a bite of potato and she could hear it crunching between his teeth from across the table.

To hide her upset, she picked up her biscuit and took a nibble, or tried to. She nearly broke her tooth on the thing. It was then that she ran out of the house fighting her tears all the way. She heard Kid calling after her but she could not face him.

Darkness was well on its way to overtaking the world around her when she heard him come into the barn. She hoped he wouldn't look in the loft but she knew he probably would. Sure enough, she soon heard his boots on the ladder. Her hands wiped furiously at her face to brush away any evidence of how upset she was.

"Lou," Kid said gently. "You don't have to hide your tears from me. You don't have to hide anything from me."

"I'm no good for you, Kid," she whispered not trusting her voice through the tears she couldn't entirely stop.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Nothing has ever been as good for me as you are."

"I don't know how to be a woman."

"You must…you are one. Always have been. A woman don't have to look or act a certain way anymore than a man does. Some men are big and burly and can fight. Some know how to do things like break a horse or fix a wagon wheel. Some men know the law or medicine and none of those other things. Don't mean that any one of them is better or worse than the next. And surely don't mean one is more man or a more right kind of man. You can do lots of stuff that most women can't. Besides, some of the fanciest ladies out there can't cook a lick neither. They always had servants to do it. At least you're willing to give it a try."

"And fail."

"That's right," he agreed. "You're willing to fail. I know that hurts your pride something awful but you're willing to try it for me. I can't even tell you what that's worth to me. What worries me is you ain't acting yourself right now. The Louise I know…the one I fell in love with…she ain't gonna see herself beat by anything…not a man, a horse…and certainly no measly pork chop."

"You deserve…"

"I hope I can deserve you," he finished for her. "I ain't sure I'm quite good enough for you but I'll always try to be. I figure ain't either one of us perfect. I'm sure I'll let you down here and there. You'll probably let me down too from time to time…but this meal…that ain't letting me down. That was one failed attempt."

She raised her eyes to him at last and looked hopefully to him.

"You ain't upset?"

"Only that you are," he whispered kissing the top of her head. "Now would you come back inside? I have something to show you. I think it might make you feel better."

Begrudgingly, Lou followed him down from the loft and across the yard and into the house. She tried not to look at the table, the site of her latest and worst failure. But he led her right to it. In the center of the table was a pie. The pie she baked for dessert. The pie she had forgotten all about when she ran out. There was a slice missing from the pie. It was not on either of the plates on the table.

She looked to Kid in confusion but he simply pulled her chair out for her and nodded for her to sit. He had cleared away their supper plates and brought out smaller plates. He cut another slice of pie and placed it on a plate in front of her and then dished himself one as well.

"Go ahead," he said trying to hide an excited smile. "Try it."

She tentatively took a small piece and lifted it warily to her mouth.

"Go on," he urged.

Lou put the pie in her mouth and looked at him in shock.

"You just try to tell me that ain't the best vanilla custard pie you ever ate," he challenged.

She didn't know about the best but it was pretty darned good if she did say so herself. The crust was flaky—as flaky as Emma's. And the filling creamy and rich.

"The other stuff will come," Kid told her with such conviction that she couldn't help but believe him. "And if we have to live on pie for a while, I won't complain."

So...another slice of pie. I hope this was enjoyable to everyone.-J