“I don’t know if I can afford it. We won’t get more than a few dollars each selling them for hides.”
“Then trail them north to Missouri. A man came through Austin a few months ago saying he got thirty dollars a head for steers in St. Louis.”
“Thirty dollars!” George almost choked. “At that price I can afford to buy a hundred heifers from Mr. King. Are you sure they won’t expect to be paid now?”
“Ask him.”
“Just a minute,” George called out to Salty. The man had led his horse up to the corral fence. “We’ve got some rounding up to do. I’m thinking about sending a herd north to Missouri. Would you be interested in something like that?”
“Sure.”
“There might be shooting.”
“No more than in the war.”
“I won’t be able to pay you until I sell the herd.”
“Eating regular is more than I’m doing now.”
“I can’t even offer you a bed. The house is hardly big enough for us.”
“It ain’t rained but once since I crossed the Trinity,” Salty answered with an easy smile. “And I dry out real fast.”
“Okay. Leave your horse in the corral. You can go out with us tomorrow and get the lay of the land.”
They headed back to the house.
“I almost forgot,” Salty said. “I got a letter here. I’m told it’s almighty important, but I can’t seem to find the young woman it’s addressed to. I was told she stayed over this way, but I must have been given the wrong information.”
“I haven’t heard of any women living out here, young or old,” George said. “The Indians or bandits drove nearly everybody out during the war.”
“What’s her name?” Rose asked.
“Miss Elizabeth Thornton.”
Chapter Ten
“But my name’s Elizabeth Thornton.”
“Now what a coincidence,” Salty said. “No wonder people got confused thinking you and this Elizabeth Thornton were the same one.”
“But we must be. I mean, we are.”
“This can’t be you, ma’am. This young lady is unwed.”
“I’m not married,” Rose told him.
“I thought…”
“I keep house for Mr. Randolph and his brothers.” Rose hated the silence that fell. “My father always called me Elizabeth, but I prefer to be called Rose,” she explained.
“Then I guess this is yours,” Salty said, handing the letter to her.
Rose looked at the postmark and lost a little of her color.
“Anything wrong?” George asked.
“No,” she answered. “It’s just from somebody I thought had forgotten me.” She tucked the letter in her pocket. “I expect you men have a lot to talk about. I need to get back to the kitchen. There’ll be seven mouths to feed tonight.”
“You got five brothers?” Salty asked, startled.
“Six. One hasn’t come home from the war yet.”
“She a relative?” Salty asked, after Rose had gone.
“No.”
“She hiding out from somebody?”
“Exactly what are you getting at?” George asked, his temper and curiosity beginning to rise.
“Nothing much. Just that it’s unusual for a young woman to be staying with so many men. You know, women being such gossips and all.”
“There aren’t any women around to gossip.”
“Good thing.”
George didn’t pursue the conversation, but he didn’t have to in order to know what Salty meant. By coming to work for them, Rose had ruined her reputation.
But she must have understood the risks when she offered for the job. Whatever happened, it was none of his concern. Certainly not his fault.
But that didn’t soothe George’s irritation. People had no right to judge Rose. They hadn’t thought any worse of Peaches or Mrs. Hanks. But Rose was a Yankee’s daughter. She was young and single and prettier than their own daughters.
“There’s not much to show you,” George said to Salty. “Outside of the house and a chicken coop, all we have is corrals. And a bull we hope to use to upgrade our herd.”
“I know something about bulls,” Salty said. “Let’s have a look.”
“Did George say we could go this far from the house?” Zac asked.
“I didn’t ask him,” Rose replied.
“He said he’d chain me to the porch if he ever found me past the creek.”
“Do you think he’ll chain me?”
Zac giggled. “George wouldn’t chain a lady.”
“Who says I’m a lady?”
“George.”