“Isn’t giving it up,” Jeff corrected.
“Rose don’t correct me, and she knows more than you,” Zac shot at his brother.
“What do you mean, she doesn’t correct you?” George asked.
Zac looked like he’d said too much. “She did it yesterday, after you left. I told her I didn’t like it, that Jeff did it all the time, and she promised she’d never do it again. And she hasn’t,” he said to Jeff. “I said some awful terrible things just to see if she’d break her word. But she never did.”
“I doubt Rose ever breaks her word,” George said, more to himself than his brothers. “She seems to be a woman of clear ideals and strong character.”
“All we wanted was someone to cook and clean,” Jeff said.
“I have a feeling one day you’ll be glad we got more,” George said.
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. Just a feeling.”
“Stop jawing and get shaved,” Monty said. “I’m starved, and I’ll bet you ham to potatoes she won’t let a one of us inside the door unless we’re shaved close as a baby’s bottom.”
“And wearing a clean shirt,” Zac reminded them.
“We don’t have any clean shirts,” Hen pointed out.
“Wear the same one you wore last night,” George said. “It’ll have to do.”
“How about tonight and tomorrow night?” Hen asked.
“We’ll worry about that later.”
“You didn’t have to worry about shaving and clean shirts when I was doing the cooking,” Tyler said.
“We only had to worry about dying,” Monty said.
“We appreciate what you did,” George said, hoping Tyler believed he valued his effort, “but you have to admit Rose is a much better cook.”
“She looks better, too,” Monty added, relishing needling his younger brother.
“Outside, all of you,” George said. “I’m not putting off my breakfast so you can start a free-for-all.”
“Comb your hair, Zac,” Jeff said. “She won’t want you sitting down at the table looking like you were scared out of your wits by a bobcat.”
“I ain’t afraid of no bobcat.”
“No more fights,” George intervened. “I’m hungry.”
The six men spilled through the door to be brought up short by the sight of Rose building a fire under the wash pot.
“Before you sit down to the table, I want this pot filled with water. And I want everything except the clothes on your backs in it.”
“Dammit to hell!” Monty cursed.
Chapter Five
“Can’t it wait until after breakfast?” George asked. He had been anticipating his breakfast almost as much as Monty, and to be ordered to fill the wash pot and search out every piece of clothing they owned before they could eat made him irritable.
“I thought about that,” Rose said, “but what’s to keep everybody here after they’ve eaten?”
“You could ask them.”
“I could,” Rose admitted, “but it’s easier to do it now.”
“Are you going to let her get away with this?” Monty demanded.
“Get away with what?” George asked, his temper short. “You voted to hire a housekeeper. The washing is part of her duties. If you want the job done, you’ve got to let her do it.”
“Then let her do it herself. I don’t mean to stop her.”
“You don’t mind her going through your things?”
It was obvious that thought hadn’t occurred to Monty.
“I don’t want anybody going through mine,” Hen stated.
“She can do anything she wants with my clothes,” Zac said. “I don’t even like to wear them.”
“Ain’t no woman touching anything that belongs to me,” Tyler declared.
“I’m sure she doesn’t want to,” Jeff said. “She probably intended to use a stick.”
“You boys collect the clothes,” George said. “Jeff and I will get the water.
“You mind digging out my stuff while I bring the water?” George asked Hen.
“Naw. I’ll give you a hand as soon as I’m done.”
“Aw, hell, I’ll help with the water,” Monty said.
“Jeff will do that,” George said, giving Monty a particularly penetrating look. “You just make sure Zac and Tyler don’t leave half their clothes buried under a floorboard somewhere.”
“You shouldn’t let her get away with this,” Jeff said as they walked toward the well.
“Get away with what?” George asked.