Rose(94)

“Not as much as we appreciate—”

“Monty, if you mention my cooking one more time, I swear I won’t fix dinner. A woman likes it when a man enjoys her food, but she likes to think she’s appreciated a little because of herself.”

“When I think of you, I just naturally think of food.”

Disgust was written all over Hen’s face. He hit his brother on the shoulder so hard Monty almost lost his balance. “What she’s saying, you dumb cluck, is she’d like to think you’d want her here even if she couldn’t cook a lick.”

Monty hit him back. “I’m not a dumb cluck, even if I don’t know pretty things to say to a woman.”

“You’ll know when the time comes,” Rose said when the two boys started hitting each other in earnest, “but if you get into a fight in my kitchen, you’ll go to bed hungry.”

“I suggest you wash up and cool down,” George said. “And put on something clean. I want tonight to be a little festive.”

“It won’t be if Tyler and Jeff come,” Zac said.

Hen scooped up his little brother, held him over his head, and threatened to boil him in the wash pot before dinnertime.

Zac screamed with delight.

“Leave it to Zac to go straight to the nub of the issue,” George said.

“Three of your brothers like me,” Rose said. “A lot of wives start with less.”

“Maybe—”

“Tyler will come around. He’s just mad at me for driving him out of the kitchen. As for Jeff, well, I’m not sure he really dislikes me either. But you can’t do anything about it, so stop worrying.”

“I wouldn’t if it were just myself.”

“Well, don’t because of me,” Rose said, standing on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “I survived the good ladies of Austin. After that, I should hardly even notice Jeff.”

But she did. They all did.

Everyone came to dinner, including Salty and the new hands. Jeff didn’t speak to anyone. He didn’t look at George. He seldom even looked up from his plate. He never once turned his gaze toward Rose.

At first nobody spoke much. They were all taken up with the serious business of eating. After subsisting on Tyler’s cooking, and their own when they couldn’t stomach Tyler’s any longer, they were anxious to make up for lost time. Probably everyone except Rose and George ate too much. As they sat back to let their food settle, the conversation turned to the coming roundup.

“The other boys ought to be here in a day or two,” Salty said. “How long it’ll take us to be ready for the drive will depend on how big a herd you want to take.”

“Silas has already showed us how to build a corral and chute for the branding,” Monty told George. “That ought to cut the time in half.”

“And make it easier on us,” Hen said. “It’s no picnic throwing a five-year-old steer bigger than your horse.”

“While we have the hands to help us, I want to go through the herd and cut all the bulls we don’t intend to keep,” George said. “We can brand anything you missed and cull what we want to sell at the same time.”

“That will probably take an extra month,” Silas said.

“I want to count the herd, too,” George said. “If bandits were to run off a bunch tonight, we wouldn’t know how many we lost.”

“We lose more to the McClendons taking one here and there than we do to bandits,” Monty said. “I’d like to run every one of them out of the state.”

Jeff’s head snapped up.

“Don’t say a word,” George said to his brother. “I won’t have us arguing among ourselves. Understand?”

Everyone knew this wasn’t a request. Even Jeff.

The discussion about the roundup continued, but the tension had returned. It seemed to grow more intense with each passing minute.

“We’d best be heading to bed if we plan to be chasing cows before dawn,” Salty said, getting to his feet. “It was mighty good, ma’am. We’ll rustle our own grub in the morning.”

“You’ll eat with us as long as you’re at the house,” Rose said. “When do you want to leave?”

“Is five too early?”

“It sure as hell is,” Monty exclaimed. “Damnation, my dogs don’t even get up that early.”

“Then we’ll have to see about reforming your sleeping habits,” George said. “And your language. Zac’s beginning to sound just like you.”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Monty exclaimed, turning on his youngest brother.

“That’s exactly the phrase I had in mind,” George said.