Rose(66)

“I guess I will,” Monty said. He didn’t stand up. “I wasn’t the least bit pleased when Rose got here. As you may remember, I said we had to get rid of her. I said it rather loudly.”

“You say everything loud,” Zac said.

“Well, I changed my mind. Laying aside that she’s pretty as a picture and just about the greatest cook in the world, she’s a real nice lady. I appreciate what she did for us out there this afternoon. I’d have shot the damned scoundrels out of the saddle, and we’d have had the whole army down on us. She knew they were trying to cheat us, and she knew what to say to put a stop to it.

“Only thing is, I can’t forget she’s a Yankee. I know she didn’t fight, but her pa did. I don’t have nightmares about dead soldiers like Jeff, but I do think of the bandits and rustlers they let come in here just to keep us too poor to fight back. I don’t want us fighting over her. We’ve finally started to feel like a family. I’d hate to see that go.” Looking a little embarrassed at his show of emotion, he sat down.

George could hardly believe his ears. He would have said Monty valued the family less than anybody except Tyler.

All eyes turned to Hen.

Hen remained seated. “I didn’t like her at first either. It stuck in my craw that she turned the table over that first night. I always took Ma to be how a woman ought to act, and Rose didn’t measure up. Then I remembered going to Ma’s room one day. She was crying about something Pa had done.”

“She was always doing that,” Monty said, anger at remembered slights making his voice tight.

“She was saying to her mirror, If I could only stand up to him. Ma never could stand up to Pa. But if she could, I bet she’d have acted just like Rose.”

“We’re not—” Jeff started.

“I’m not finished,” Hen said. The cold look in his eye encouraged Jeff to keep quiet.

“I yield to nobody in disliking Yankees. If it hadn’t been for Ma, I’d have been out there with the rest of you. But I don’t hold any child liable for the sins of his parents. I thought Pa was the meanest, lowest, most cussed son-of-a-bitch who ever walked the earth, but I don’t hold it against any of you that he’s your Pa. By his own lights, Rose’s pa was an honorable man. That’s a whole hell of a lot more than you can say about our old man. I can’t hold his serving in the union   Army against her. And I agree with Monty about it feeling good to be a family again. I just wonder if we would have done it without Rose. We weren’t doing too good before she got here.”

A surge of affection for his stoic brother warmed George’s heart. He knew how much Hen adored their Ma. Comparing Rose to her was the greatest compliment he could give any woman.

Everyone turned to George.

“I answered this question when I hired Rose,” George began. “She told me about her father and I knew how you would feel. But I hired her because I thought she was the best for the job.”

“Anybody can cook and clean,” Jeff objected.

“I chose her for two other reasons. I thought she was the only woman of the four who wouldn’t break the slender bonds that hold this family together.”

“You were wrong there,” said Jeff.

“No, I wasn’t. What Hen and Monty just said proved it. Also,” George continued when Jeff tried to interrupt, “I chose her because I thought she was honest and courageous. But we’re not talking about Rose now. We’re talking about her father. I don’t care about her father. I didn’t hire him.”

“You don’t care about her father?” Jeff repeated, aghast. “You don’t care about all the honest and courageous Southern men he killed?”

“I killed honest and courageous Yankees, Jeff. You did, too, but now the fighting is over. I’d like to think if our sister had lived and if she had found herself alone in Pennsylvania or New Hampshire, she wouldn’t have been turned out to starve, or to stay alive at the expense of her self-respect.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“I think it is.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Monty said. “Let’s vote.”





Chapter Twelve


“It’s nice out here,” Salty said.

Rose sat on the chopping block. Salty stood, looking at the starry canopy overhead. They had sat in silence until the volume level of the argument inside unexpectedly plummeted to an indistinct murmur.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, trying to concentrate on talking to Salty rather than straining to make sense of the fragments of sentences escaping through the kitchen window. “I’d never lived outside a town when I agreed to come out here. I was afraid I would miss the people and shops, things going on.”