hirin’? I reckon I could earn enough money outta one of them to pay you for the bumper. That way, if there’s still a job for me down the road a piece, I can get on the road quick.”
He looked askance at her over the rim of his cup. “You ever pick crabs or shuck oysters?”
Phoebe read the doubt in his expression. Her chin came up. Not a dime ’s worth, but mayhap a nickel. “I can pick and shuck with the best of ‘em. I’ve picked cotton, shucked corn and hoed sorghum. Picking crabs and shucking oysters can’t be much different.” Or worse. She’d pulled cotton until the tips of her fingers blistered raw, shucked dry corn until her thumbs bled and had to use the hoe as a crook to hobble out of muddy milo fields at dusk, worrying that her spine would be bent the rest of her days.
“ If you say so,” G. G. Morgan gave her an odd dogleg smile. It hiked one corner of his kissin’ lips.
Phoebe didn ’t like the looks of his smile. It was crafty. She’d never seen a live crab or oyster in her life, but she’d seen pictures in National Geographic in the library back home. And not a Thanksgiving or Christmas slipped by in Phoebe’s living memory that Pa didn’t rant about his grandma’s oyster dressing and she-crab soup, all the while dishing up second helpings of Ma’s cornbread dressing and buttered sweet yams and Ma sitting at the end of the table going pink with vexation. Phoebe determined she wasn’t going to be outdone by any critter smaller than herself. Or bigger. She eyed Gage and tendered a last attempt to convince him of her abilities. “My hands are agile. My old boss in the cotton mills said I had the best hands he ever saw for threadin’ bobbins.”
“ Threading bobbins?”
“ That’s right.” Phoebe displayed her hands, thrusting them out, turning them over. “I know they appear waiflike, but you’re lookin’ at a strong set of hands.” She had his full attention. Seeing as men sometimes didn’t notice what was under their noses unless it smelled high, she decided to give him a good impression of the rest of her. “Matter of fact, I’m strong all over. I just don’t appear so. I ain’t never had a back problem and my brain is quick on complications.”
“ Quick on being slick you mean.”
“ Nope, that’s not what I mean a’tall,” she said with undue calm while keeping an eye on him, liking what she was seeing and trying not to. She was coming close to having wrong way female thoughts about how good he looked in the morning, how much man there was packed into his pants. She lifted her face and found him smiling at her. Caught, she sniffed. “I ain’t havin’ evil thoughts about you, if that’s what’s makin’ you grin like a cream-fed cat.”
“ Wouldn’t do you any good if you were, you’re not my type.”
“ That’s a good thing for both of us, ain’t it?” She let a fine friendly smile light up her expression to cover hurt feelings and held it until she thought her face would crack. She didn’t have the time or wherewithal to study on him at the moment. It was just as well he didn’t know how she was when she set her mind to something. “You got any objection to Maydean watching Willie-Boy and Dorie after breakfast while I check with one of them seafood houses? Like as not they’ll put me to work and I can have your seventy dollars by nightfall.”
Mentally calculating the proposed arrangement six different ways, Gage re filled his cup from the percolator. Hers was a simple request. No short end of the stick for either of them. “I’ve no objection. But Dorie can look after herself.” His tone softened when he said his daughter’s name.
“ Dorie’s self-sufficient, all right,” Phoebe said, being agreeable. Lor! The child couldn’t look after herself coming or going. Men were blind to the day-to-day responsibility of girl-child rearing. “I’ll tell Maydean not to boss Dorie while I’m gettin’ up your money,” she said, which had
He looked askance at her over the rim of his cup. “You ever pick crabs or shuck oysters?”
Phoebe read the doubt in his expression. Her chin came up. Not a dime ’s worth, but mayhap a nickel. “I can pick and shuck with the best of ‘em. I’ve picked cotton, shucked corn and hoed sorghum. Picking crabs and shucking oysters can’t be much different.” Or worse. She’d pulled cotton until the tips of her fingers blistered raw, shucked dry corn until her thumbs bled and had to use the hoe as a crook to hobble out of muddy milo fields at dusk, worrying that her spine would be bent the rest of her days.
“ If you say so,” G. G. Morgan gave her an odd dogleg smile. It hiked one corner of his kissin’ lips.
Phoebe didn ’t like the looks of his smile. It was crafty. She’d never seen a live crab or oyster in her life, but she’d seen pictures in National Geographic in the library back home. And not a Thanksgiving or Christmas slipped by in Phoebe’s living memory that Pa didn’t rant about his grandma’s oyster dressing and she-crab soup, all the while dishing up second helpings of Ma’s cornbread dressing and buttered sweet yams and Ma sitting at the end of the table going pink with vexation. Phoebe determined she wasn’t going to be outdone by any critter smaller than herself. Or bigger. She eyed Gage and tendered a last attempt to convince him of her abilities. “My hands are agile. My old boss in the cotton mills said I had the best hands he ever saw for threadin’ bobbins.”
“ Threading bobbins?”
“ That’s right.” Phoebe displayed her hands, thrusting them out, turning them over. “I know they appear waiflike, but you’re lookin’ at a strong set of hands.” She had his full attention. Seeing as men sometimes didn’t notice what was under their noses unless it smelled high, she decided to give him a good impression of the rest of her. “Matter of fact, I’m strong all over. I just don’t appear so. I ain’t never had a back problem and my brain is quick on complications.”
“ Quick on being slick you mean.”
“ Nope, that’s not what I mean a’tall,” she said with undue calm while keeping an eye on him, liking what she was seeing and trying not to. She was coming close to having wrong way female thoughts about how good he looked in the morning, how much man there was packed into his pants. She lifted her face and found him smiling at her. Caught, she sniffed. “I ain’t havin’ evil thoughts about you, if that’s what’s makin’ you grin like a cream-fed cat.”
“ Wouldn’t do you any good if you were, you’re not my type.”
“ That’s a good thing for both of us, ain’t it?” She let a fine friendly smile light up her expression to cover hurt feelings and held it until she thought her face would crack. She didn’t have the time or wherewithal to study on him at the moment. It was just as well he didn’t know how she was when she set her mind to something. “You got any objection to Maydean watching Willie-Boy and Dorie after breakfast while I check with one of them seafood houses? Like as not they’ll put me to work and I can have your seventy dollars by nightfall.”
Mentally calculating the proposed arrangement six different ways, Gage re filled his cup from the percolator. Hers was a simple request. No short end of the stick for either of them. “I’ve no objection. But Dorie can look after herself.” His tone softened when he said his daughter’s name.
“ Dorie’s self-sufficient, all right,” Phoebe said, being agreeable. Lor! The child couldn’t look after herself coming or going. Men were blind to the day-to-day responsibility of girl-child rearing. “I’ll tell Maydean not to boss Dorie while I’m gettin’ up your money,” she said, which had
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