have the months to give.
He heard Althea approach him; her skirts
swished through the tall grass, and the faintest fragrance
accompanied her. “I’ll warm up your dinner in a minute, Mr. Hicks.
But perhaps we should discuss our arrangement.”
He faced her and nodded. Her smooth skin was
the color of fresh cream, and in keeping with that dark-flame hair
she had a spray of pale freckles across her nose and cheeks. But
those eyes . . . he felt as if they saw all the
secrets, all the hurts.
“ Why did you steal those eggs from
Farley Wright?”
He pushed his hands into his back pockets.
“Because I was hungry.” He wished he had a better answer, a more
noble answer, but he didn’t.
“ Are you going to steal from
me?”
By God, but she was blunt. Her directness had
a way of cutting a man to the bone. “No, ma’am.”
“ You know if you do, I’ll have Sheriff
Mason take you back to jail before you can say Sam
Hill.”
He didn’t know why he should care what she
thought, but he blurted, “I only took one egg. And I didn’t steal
it. I left a penny for it.”
She nodded again, apparently satisfied. “You
won’t go hungry here. I’ll give you room and board, and pay you a
wage—seven cents an hour—provided that you don’t drink on my
property or on my time. There is no excuse for that sort of
behavior, Mr. Hicks. Our years are too precious to waste on
self-indulgence.”
Keeping his expression carefully blank, Jeff
sneered at her self-righteousness. She didn’t know what she was
talking about, and sounded like someone who’d never had a bad
experience in her life. Some things were too horrible to bear, and
humming a happy tune or looking on the bright side didn’t make them
one damn bit easier to live with.
She probably felt sorry for him, too. He
wasn’t sure which was worse, people’s pity or their busybody
whispering.
Her eyes touched him here and there,
examining his lack of barbering and dirty clothes. “I must also
insist that you clean up and let me cut your hair. I think I can
find something for you to wear, too. Cleanliness is one of the
qualities that raises us above animals.”
She was beginning to sound like a missionary.
The minute she brought out a Bible, he’d be gone from here, no
matter what Will Mason threatened. “I’m no church project, Miss
Ford,” he warned.
She got a tight look around her mouth, and
her nose pinched up, as if she smelled something bad. “This is not
Christian charity I’m offering, Mr. Hicks. Even you must agree that
your clothes have already seen their best days. And there is
nothing wrong with being clean. Soap and water are cheap.”
He couldn’t deny that. She was the fussy
sort, though, and probably hard to please. It showed in everything
about her—the way she dressed with her high, tight collar, and the
way she wanted things done. Her foolishness about the barn door was
a good example.
But he sensed that there was more to her, a
femininity that made him remember a time in his life when he could
appreciate softness and tender feelings. It made him want to study
her when she wasn’t looking at him.
“ You can stay in that room over there.”
She pointed to the lean-to where he’d found the shingles. “I’ll
give you clean linen and a tick. If you do as I ask, we’ll get
along. Is this agreeable to you?”
Agreeable? What choice did he have? He looked
into her eyes. “Well, ma’am, my mother used to say that some people
are born with no place to go. I don’t think she was talking about
me, but I guess that’s the way it’s turned out.”
~~*~*~*~~
“ Do you mean he’s going to live here? A
man?” Olivia asked, a delicate horror on her delicate face. She
buttered a biscuit she’d made herself with dainty strokes and
added, “Goodness, Althea, we don’t know anything about him. He
could murder us in our beds. I saw him from the window—he looks
quite disgusting and disreputable.”
They were eating dinner later than
He heard Althea approach him; her skirts
swished through the tall grass, and the faintest fragrance
accompanied her. “I’ll warm up your dinner in a minute, Mr. Hicks.
But perhaps we should discuss our arrangement.”
He faced her and nodded. Her smooth skin was
the color of fresh cream, and in keeping with that dark-flame hair
she had a spray of pale freckles across her nose and cheeks. But
those eyes . . . he felt as if they saw all the
secrets, all the hurts.
“ Why did you steal those eggs from
Farley Wright?”
He pushed his hands into his back pockets.
“Because I was hungry.” He wished he had a better answer, a more
noble answer, but he didn’t.
“ Are you going to steal from
me?”
By God, but she was blunt. Her directness had
a way of cutting a man to the bone. “No, ma’am.”
“ You know if you do, I’ll have Sheriff
Mason take you back to jail before you can say Sam
Hill.”
He didn’t know why he should care what she
thought, but he blurted, “I only took one egg. And I didn’t steal
it. I left a penny for it.”
She nodded again, apparently satisfied. “You
won’t go hungry here. I’ll give you room and board, and pay you a
wage—seven cents an hour—provided that you don’t drink on my
property or on my time. There is no excuse for that sort of
behavior, Mr. Hicks. Our years are too precious to waste on
self-indulgence.”
Keeping his expression carefully blank, Jeff
sneered at her self-righteousness. She didn’t know what she was
talking about, and sounded like someone who’d never had a bad
experience in her life. Some things were too horrible to bear, and
humming a happy tune or looking on the bright side didn’t make them
one damn bit easier to live with.
She probably felt sorry for him, too. He
wasn’t sure which was worse, people’s pity or their busybody
whispering.
Her eyes touched him here and there,
examining his lack of barbering and dirty clothes. “I must also
insist that you clean up and let me cut your hair. I think I can
find something for you to wear, too. Cleanliness is one of the
qualities that raises us above animals.”
She was beginning to sound like a missionary.
The minute she brought out a Bible, he’d be gone from here, no
matter what Will Mason threatened. “I’m no church project, Miss
Ford,” he warned.
She got a tight look around her mouth, and
her nose pinched up, as if she smelled something bad. “This is not
Christian charity I’m offering, Mr. Hicks. Even you must agree that
your clothes have already seen their best days. And there is
nothing wrong with being clean. Soap and water are cheap.”
He couldn’t deny that. She was the fussy
sort, though, and probably hard to please. It showed in everything
about her—the way she dressed with her high, tight collar, and the
way she wanted things done. Her foolishness about the barn door was
a good example.
But he sensed that there was more to her, a
femininity that made him remember a time in his life when he could
appreciate softness and tender feelings. It made him want to study
her when she wasn’t looking at him.
“ You can stay in that room over there.”
She pointed to the lean-to where he’d found the shingles. “I’ll
give you clean linen and a tick. If you do as I ask, we’ll get
along. Is this agreeable to you?”
Agreeable? What choice did he have? He looked
into her eyes. “Well, ma’am, my mother used to say that some people
are born with no place to go. I don’t think she was talking about
me, but I guess that’s the way it’s turned out.”
~~*~*~*~~
“ Do you mean he’s going to live here? A
man?” Olivia asked, a delicate horror on her delicate face. She
buttered a biscuit she’d made herself with dainty strokes and
added, “Goodness, Althea, we don’t know anything about him. He
could murder us in our beds. I saw him from the window—he looks
quite disgusting and disreputable.”
They were eating dinner later than
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