stink he’d made about women working. Still, he didn’t fancy himself sitting there answering the phone. However . . .
He looked at the toes of his boots, then back up at her. “I do my job my way, on my time frame. No questions asked.”
“Deal.”
“I’m not finished.”
She gripped the back of her chair. “Well, hurry up. What else?”
“The desk is mine. The key is mine.”
Her lips fell open. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s mine anyway and we both know it.”
She drummed her fingernail on the seatback. “Can we share it?”
He pursed his lips. “We might could work something out.”
“Good.” She yanked her chair back. “Sit down and let me show you how to use this thing.”
Chapter Six
Georgie hurried down Market Street. She’d never missed a moment of work since arriving in Brenham. Too many people depended on her. She wasn’t at all comfortable leaving them in Mr. Palmer’s hands, but he’d caught on fast, this was an emergency, and he was, after all, an employee of SWT&T.
Bettina did her best to keep up, but her oversized boots slowed her down and she was still trying to preserve the nest of eggs. “I’m tellin’ ya, if I put ’em back, them boys will get ’em.”
The little eggs were doomed no matter what. Georgie had seen birds take on snakes to protect their young. If boys had thrown rocks and Bettina had stolen the nest—all without repercussions—then the parents had long since abandoned their babies.
Still, if there was any chance . . . “I want you to put it back just the same. Perhaps the mama and daddy birds will return.”
“What if they don’t?” The girl looked at her treasure. “No tellin’ what Mr. Ottfried would pay for a nest and three whole eggs.”
Georgie pulled up short. “You may not sell those to Mr. Ottfried.”
“But what if he pays me a nickel? I’d be rich as Will Cummings if I had me a whole nickel.”
Georgie’s heart squeezed. Lifting one of the girl’s brown braids, she fanned a finger across its tail. It was time for a hair wash. “Is the money you’re earning as my errand girl running out too fast?”
Bettina pulled back, breaking the connection between her braid and Georgie. “Me and Pa are getting by. But that don’t mean I wouldn’t like a sarsaparilla stick or one of them rock-and-rye drops. And sometimes, I get me a powerful thirst fer a Dr. Pepper. I could get all that fer a nickel and still have money left over.”
Normally Bettina kept her vulnerabilities well hidden. That she would reveal such a wish list spoke volumes.
“What if the mama and daddy birds are there right now?” Georgie asked. “Looking for their babies?”
“What if they aren’t?”
She took a deep breath. “If you sell those to Mr. Ottfried, they’ll end up on some lady’s hat. How would you feel if you ran into somebody wearing those poor baby eggs?”
“I’d wanna know how much she paid fer her hat.”
Georgie looked up the street toward the milliner’s. “More than a nickel, I can promise you that.”
“How much more?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Bird hats are the most expensive ones. They run anywhere from five dollars on up.”
“Five dollars!” Bettina’s eyes bugged. “He ought not offer a nickel for these, then. It ain’t right a’tall.”
“No, using birds for fashion is criminal, I think.”
“I think buying these fer a nickel, then selling the hat fer five dollars is crim’nal.” Her brows scrunched together in a fierce frown. “I can tell ya this, if he offers me anything less than fifty cents, I ain’t givin’ none of it to him. Not so much as a twig from the nest.”
Georgie placed two fingers against her forehead. “You’re missing the point. You shouldn’t sell them to him at all. Don’t you see? He’s killing innocent creatures just so he can turn them into ornaments.”
Bettina inched backward. “I know you love yer birds and all, Miss Georgie, but lots o’ folks kill ’em. Even
He looked at the toes of his boots, then back up at her. “I do my job my way, on my time frame. No questions asked.”
“Deal.”
“I’m not finished.”
She gripped the back of her chair. “Well, hurry up. What else?”
“The desk is mine. The key is mine.”
Her lips fell open. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s mine anyway and we both know it.”
She drummed her fingernail on the seatback. “Can we share it?”
He pursed his lips. “We might could work something out.”
“Good.” She yanked her chair back. “Sit down and let me show you how to use this thing.”
Chapter Six
Georgie hurried down Market Street. She’d never missed a moment of work since arriving in Brenham. Too many people depended on her. She wasn’t at all comfortable leaving them in Mr. Palmer’s hands, but he’d caught on fast, this was an emergency, and he was, after all, an employee of SWT&T.
Bettina did her best to keep up, but her oversized boots slowed her down and she was still trying to preserve the nest of eggs. “I’m tellin’ ya, if I put ’em back, them boys will get ’em.”
The little eggs were doomed no matter what. Georgie had seen birds take on snakes to protect their young. If boys had thrown rocks and Bettina had stolen the nest—all without repercussions—then the parents had long since abandoned their babies.
Still, if there was any chance . . . “I want you to put it back just the same. Perhaps the mama and daddy birds will return.”
“What if they don’t?” The girl looked at her treasure. “No tellin’ what Mr. Ottfried would pay for a nest and three whole eggs.”
Georgie pulled up short. “You may not sell those to Mr. Ottfried.”
“But what if he pays me a nickel? I’d be rich as Will Cummings if I had me a whole nickel.”
Georgie’s heart squeezed. Lifting one of the girl’s brown braids, she fanned a finger across its tail. It was time for a hair wash. “Is the money you’re earning as my errand girl running out too fast?”
Bettina pulled back, breaking the connection between her braid and Georgie. “Me and Pa are getting by. But that don’t mean I wouldn’t like a sarsaparilla stick or one of them rock-and-rye drops. And sometimes, I get me a powerful thirst fer a Dr. Pepper. I could get all that fer a nickel and still have money left over.”
Normally Bettina kept her vulnerabilities well hidden. That she would reveal such a wish list spoke volumes.
“What if the mama and daddy birds are there right now?” Georgie asked. “Looking for their babies?”
“What if they aren’t?”
She took a deep breath. “If you sell those to Mr. Ottfried, they’ll end up on some lady’s hat. How would you feel if you ran into somebody wearing those poor baby eggs?”
“I’d wanna know how much she paid fer her hat.”
Georgie looked up the street toward the milliner’s. “More than a nickel, I can promise you that.”
“How much more?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Bird hats are the most expensive ones. They run anywhere from five dollars on up.”
“Five dollars!” Bettina’s eyes bugged. “He ought not offer a nickel for these, then. It ain’t right a’tall.”
“No, using birds for fashion is criminal, I think.”
“I think buying these fer a nickel, then selling the hat fer five dollars is crim’nal.” Her brows scrunched together in a fierce frown. “I can tell ya this, if he offers me anything less than fifty cents, I ain’t givin’ none of it to him. Not so much as a twig from the nest.”
Georgie placed two fingers against her forehead. “You’re missing the point. You shouldn’t sell them to him at all. Don’t you see? He’s killing innocent creatures just so he can turn them into ornaments.”
Bettina inched backward. “I know you love yer birds and all, Miss Georgie, but lots o’ folks kill ’em. Even
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