Rose(46)

“Not at all. What do you want me to do?”

“Dig the rows so I can drop the seeds in. Zac can cover them.”

“You always give me the hard job,” Zac complained.

“The hard job is making the rows,” Rose told him.

“I’ll dig the rows,” George agreed, “and put up the poles when the vines begin to grow, but don’t ask me to pick anything.”

“That’s Zac’s job,” Rose said.

Zac made a face.

“Or shell or snap or peel,” George added.

“That’s my job,” Rose said.

Zac looked relieved.

George couldn’t remember feeling so contented, not even when he had lived in a household staffed by servants and supplied with the best that money could buy. He knew he’d be hoodwinked into digging potatoes, picking beans and squash, and he didn’t know what else, but he didn’t mind. Already he had uprooted berry bushes and grapevines and planted them along the corral fence. There were enough pecan trees along the creeks to supply a household much bigger than theirs, but Rose had already talked to him about ordering fruit trees.

“There’s no substitute for fresh fruit,” she had said.

“Don’t you think this is an awfully big garden?” George asked, surveying the full acre of ground. They had put the garden in the old corral to protect it from the ravenous longhorns, deer, antelope, wild horses, or anything else that might want to dine off its succulent plants. The mule and cow would be staked out until they could build a corral for them. Maybe a shed would come sometime after that.

“You have no idea how much you men eat,” Rose said. “I have to put up enough to last through the winter.”

“We can buy what we need from town.”

“You can’t carry squash and tomatoes and beans from town,” Rose said. “Besides, I thought you might like some fresh corn instead of corn mush for a change.”

So they proceeded to plant the garden, George digging the rows, Rose carefully spacing the seeds as she dropped them, and Zac happily pushing the soft dirt over the seeds with his bare feet.

And George continued to wonder at the feeling of contentment which seemed to seep out of the soil into his body. He felt more relaxed, more optimistic, more at peace with the world than he could ever remember. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if things could stay like this forever?

Of course nothing stayed the same forever. It rarely lasted a day, even a few hours. This serenity would be destroyed when his brothers came home. Monty’s energy, Hen’s intensity, and Tyler’s moodiness would be enough to dispel it completely.

Would he feel this way again tomorrow, next week, or was it just a passing mood?

Now that he thought about it, he realized his brothers’ moods had become less extreme during the past weeks. Was that because of Rose, too?





“Now that Tyler’s got the chicken coop finished, I’ll stay and help Rose,” Monty offered next day.

George regarded his younger brother steadily, skepticism in his gaze.

“When did you find you could do any work except from the back of a horse?”

“You said we were all going to have to help out,” Monty reminded George. “You and Tyler have done more than your share. Hen stayed yesterday. It’s my turn to lend a hand.”

“When did you develop such a democratic attitude?” Jeff asked. He had returned from Austin the night before, and the tension had returned with him.

“When I realized I liked looking at Rose better than looking at cows,” Monty replied. “Besides, the work’s got to be easier.”

“I think it’s good for us all to take turns,” Hen said. “Then everybody knows how hard everybody else works.”

“A good point,” George said, getting up.

“Can I go with you?” Zac asked.

“No, you have too many chores to do.”

“Monty can do them.”

“I’m not doing your work and mine too,” Monty said.

“Tyler can stay,” Zac said.

“I’ve been here all week,” Tyler protested.

“I’ve been here all my life,” Zac said.

“You’ll get to ride with us soon,” George assured Zac, “and when you do, you’ll probably wish you were back here.”

“I wish I was in New Orleans,” Zac said. “I wouldn’t have to milk cows and fetch eggs then.”





George cursed himself for the weakness which made him give in to his need to know what was happening between Rose and Monty, but he kept the cows moving. He did need to bring them back to be bred to the bull, but they usually did that at the end of the day.

The fact that they had located more cows than usual that had just calved or were about to calve wasn’t really an excuse. He just wanted to see Rose. And that was that.