for her grape jelly. Your mother could fill a washtub with all the ribbons for her vegetables and preserves and such.”
Colin pulled the third wagon up next to the second. “Guess what we brought back!”
Seated in the bed of that wagon was Laney, holding a picturepretty parasol above her and casting shade on her delicate complexion. The skirts of her traveling dress formed a puddle of sunshine all about her, but the way she held Hortense’s head in her lap and the shoat kept making earthy grunting sounds spoiled the effect.
Galen folded his arms on the edge of the buckboard and addressed his youngest brother. “Dale, you were to sell Hortense.”
“I did! Miss Laney bought her!”
Turning his attention onto Josh’s pesky kid sister, Galen scowled. “Just what are you up to, Laney McCain? That shoat weighs as much as you do.”
CHAPTER SIX
T hat was hardly a flattering comparison, but I’ll ignore it.”
Laney scratched Hortense between the ears, and Hortense let out happy little grunts. “I’ve gone into business. Dale is my partner.” “Yeah! And lookit, Galen! I got a boy pig. I won him in a greased pig chase.” Dale cranked the pig’s head toward him. “Mr. Snout, that’s my brother Galen.”
Galen wrinkled his nose. “What am I smelling?”
Hilda laughed so hard, she snorted.
Laney nudged Hortense, who obligingly trampled off her skirt. “We brought home fricasseed chicken.”
Galen whooped. “Hey, Ishmael! Get over here! They brought us dinner!”
“Who’s Ishmael?” Ma twisted on the seat.
Galen reached up for her. “Our new farmhand.” He helped her down but didn’t turn loose right away. Instead, he gave her a good long hug and whispered to her, “It’s good to have you home.”
Ishmael reached over the wagon and hauled Hortense out. “I reckon you’ll want her over in the sty.”
“I’ll take Mr. Snout,” Galen muttered. He cast a longing look at the pasteboard boxes from the Copper Kettle. “What’s in those?”
“Fricasseed chicken,” Sean told him, and he and Dale burst into giggles as they scrambled down.
“Good thing there’s lots of it. Ishmael and I’ll sluice off at the pump. We’ve built up quite an appetite.”
“It’s not for you, Galen.” Colin swiped Mr. Snout from him.
“Why not?”
Galen glared at his brother—partly because he’d just denied him good food, but mostly because Colin took his excuse for not helping Laney out of the wagon.
“Because,” Laney said as she rested her hands on Galen’s shoulders, “I bought the chicken for the pigs.”
“You bought chicken for the pigs!” He swept her down to the ground. The lass is daft!
Laney didn’t turn loose of him yet. “I couldn’t buy the pork chops for them.” She smiled and said in a tone that sounded perfectly reasonable, “That would make them cannibals!”
“Ethel cooked it,” Ma said.
“We’re sitting down to dinner anyway.” Galen shot a look over at the sty. “Ishmael’s our new hand. He, his sister, and his da are half starved. You’re all going inside and eating that meal … like it or not.”
“Already know I’m not going to like it,” Hilda grumbled. “Don’t know why I gotta suffer for Laney’s plan going awry.”
“Galen?” Sean tugged on his sleeve. “Why don’t we just send the chicken home with him?”
“Because I like Ishmael,” Galen snapped.
Folding his arms across his chest, Josh crooked a brow. “Thought you and I were friends. Never for a minute thought you’d try to wrangle me into eating Ethel’s food. We just choked down her sandwiches. That’s bad enough. No use adding insult to injury.”
“You’ll be eating again now.” Galen refused to back down. “I won’t slop hogs with better food than my neighbors eat.”
“I suppose I could manage a bite or two.” Laney casually brushed hoof-shaped smudges from her gown.
“I can, too.” Ruth patted Laney’s arm. “And we can count on Josh. Can’t we,
Colin pulled the third wagon up next to the second. “Guess what we brought back!”
Seated in the bed of that wagon was Laney, holding a picturepretty parasol above her and casting shade on her delicate complexion. The skirts of her traveling dress formed a puddle of sunshine all about her, but the way she held Hortense’s head in her lap and the shoat kept making earthy grunting sounds spoiled the effect.
Galen folded his arms on the edge of the buckboard and addressed his youngest brother. “Dale, you were to sell Hortense.”
“I did! Miss Laney bought her!”
Turning his attention onto Josh’s pesky kid sister, Galen scowled. “Just what are you up to, Laney McCain? That shoat weighs as much as you do.”
CHAPTER SIX
T hat was hardly a flattering comparison, but I’ll ignore it.”
Laney scratched Hortense between the ears, and Hortense let out happy little grunts. “I’ve gone into business. Dale is my partner.” “Yeah! And lookit, Galen! I got a boy pig. I won him in a greased pig chase.” Dale cranked the pig’s head toward him. “Mr. Snout, that’s my brother Galen.”
Galen wrinkled his nose. “What am I smelling?”
Hilda laughed so hard, she snorted.
Laney nudged Hortense, who obligingly trampled off her skirt. “We brought home fricasseed chicken.”
Galen whooped. “Hey, Ishmael! Get over here! They brought us dinner!”
“Who’s Ishmael?” Ma twisted on the seat.
Galen reached up for her. “Our new farmhand.” He helped her down but didn’t turn loose right away. Instead, he gave her a good long hug and whispered to her, “It’s good to have you home.”
Ishmael reached over the wagon and hauled Hortense out. “I reckon you’ll want her over in the sty.”
“I’ll take Mr. Snout,” Galen muttered. He cast a longing look at the pasteboard boxes from the Copper Kettle. “What’s in those?”
“Fricasseed chicken,” Sean told him, and he and Dale burst into giggles as they scrambled down.
“Good thing there’s lots of it. Ishmael and I’ll sluice off at the pump. We’ve built up quite an appetite.”
“It’s not for you, Galen.” Colin swiped Mr. Snout from him.
“Why not?”
Galen glared at his brother—partly because he’d just denied him good food, but mostly because Colin took his excuse for not helping Laney out of the wagon.
“Because,” Laney said as she rested her hands on Galen’s shoulders, “I bought the chicken for the pigs.”
“You bought chicken for the pigs!” He swept her down to the ground. The lass is daft!
Laney didn’t turn loose of him yet. “I couldn’t buy the pork chops for them.” She smiled and said in a tone that sounded perfectly reasonable, “That would make them cannibals!”
“Ethel cooked it,” Ma said.
“We’re sitting down to dinner anyway.” Galen shot a look over at the sty. “Ishmael’s our new hand. He, his sister, and his da are half starved. You’re all going inside and eating that meal … like it or not.”
“Already know I’m not going to like it,” Hilda grumbled. “Don’t know why I gotta suffer for Laney’s plan going awry.”
“Galen?” Sean tugged on his sleeve. “Why don’t we just send the chicken home with him?”
“Because I like Ishmael,” Galen snapped.
Folding his arms across his chest, Josh crooked a brow. “Thought you and I were friends. Never for a minute thought you’d try to wrangle me into eating Ethel’s food. We just choked down her sandwiches. That’s bad enough. No use adding insult to injury.”
“You’ll be eating again now.” Galen refused to back down. “I won’t slop hogs with better food than my neighbors eat.”
“I suppose I could manage a bite or two.” Laney casually brushed hoof-shaped smudges from her gown.
“I can, too.” Ruth patted Laney’s arm. “And we can count on Josh. Can’t we,
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