Elsie ignored Joy’s pleadings.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived,” Julie said, louder than she had intended.

“Hello, Julie. I hope we’ll not be an inconvenience. Jethro insisted that we come here.”

“It will take some adjusting for both of us, Mrs. Stuart. Is there anything you need?” Not waiting for an answer, Julie continued, “If not, I’ll get dinner on. Come help me, Joy.”

“Call me Birdie, dear.”

“I can’t do that, Mrs. Stuart. I try to set an example for the younger children by not calling older people by their first names.”

Julie beckoned to Joy and failed to see the tightening of Birdie’s lips. As Julie and Joy turned to go down the hall to look for Jill, she heard Elsie’s whiny voice.

“Ma … Ma. I don’t like it here.”

“She doesn’t like me,” Joy said and sniffed back tears.

“Don’t worry about it. I like you more than any little girl in the whole world.” Julie opened the screen door and looked out onto the vacant porch.

“Why don’t she like me? I didn’t do anythin’ to her.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, honey. Try to not pay attention to what she says. Do you know where Jill is?”

“Upstairs.”

“Then you’ve got to help me by setting the table.”

Jethro was in the kitchen combing his hair. He moved back away from the wash dish when Julie poured water to wash her hands.

“Where’s Jill?”

“Joy said she went upstairs.”

“She’d better get herself down here and act decent.”

“She’s fixing herself a place to sleep.” Julie wet a cloth and washed Joy’s face and then her hands.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken and dumplings, peas, carrots and … corn bread. I baked it right after breakfast. It only needs warming up.” She looked at him and away. “There’ll be nine at the table. We only have seven chairs and Joy’s stool. You’ll have to bring in the short wash bench from the porch.”

When Jethro went to the porch, Julie whispered to Joy, “Go up and tell Jill to come down.”

It was a quiet group that gathered on the back porch waiting to be called in for dinner. Normally they would have been in the kitchen, nagging Julie to hurry. When Julie set the large bowl of chicken and dumplings on the table, Jethro knocked on his bedroom door.

“Birdie, dinner is ready.”

The door opened immediately. Birdie, wearing a soft pink dress as if she were going to church, came into the kitchen. Elsie, in a white skirt and middy, white knee-high stockings and black button slippers, clung to her hand. Long fat curls hung over her shoulders. Across the top of her head was a white, flat bow. The thought crossed Julie’s mind that Birdie’s late husband had been a good provider.

“Something smells delicious.” Then, eyeing the table, “Goodness’ sakes, it looks like a regular feast. I’ve heard that you’re a wonderful cook, Julie.”

“Sit here, Mrs. Stuart. Elsie can sit on the bench beside you.”

The boys filed in. Joe and Jack nodded to Birdie. Jason walked around the table and took his place next to where Julie sat between him and Joy. Jill took her place, then Jethro. The family bowed their heads and Jethro prayed aloud in a clear, calm voice.

“Dear Lord, we thank Thee for the provisions Thou hath provided for us, your children. Bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies. We ask Thee to bless this family and our guests. Amen.” He looked at Birdie. “Pass your plate, Birdie. This bowl is too big to pass around.”

“Oh, my, it looks just scrumptious, but don’t give me very much and give Elsie just a tiny bit until we see whether or not she likes it.”

There was silence until all the plates were filled. Julie tried to think of something to say and finally said, “This is the last of the fresh peas.”

“They are certainly delicious. You are a good cook, Julie.”

“Thank you, but it doesn’t take much skill to boil peas.”

“Everything is so good.”

Elsie tugged at her mother’s sleeve. Birdie tilted her head toward her daughter.

“I don’t like this,” Elsie said in a loud whisper and pushed the dumpling around on her plate with her fork.

“Then eat your chicken and corn bread.”

“I don’t like the chicken either. It’s … tough.”

“She’s a finicky eater.” Birdie looked at Julie with an apologetic smile. “She doesn’t like peas or carrots. There aren’t many things she likes.”

“Why don’t she like peas and carrots, Julie? I like ’em.” Joy’s voice overrode Birdie’s last words.

“I like ice cream,” Elsie said, and looked up at her mother for confirmation.

“We don’t happen to have ice cream today, Elsie.” Julie smiled. “You’ll have to make do with milk and corn bread.”

“Chief Appleby came by on his morning run, Pa.” Joe edged in to change the subject.

“He poured water on his head,” Joy added. “Then he went to find Jason.”

“Why?” Jethro asked. “Where was Jason?”

“He was riding with Evan on his horse. Joe was with them,” Julie spoke matter-of-factly. “Save room for bread pudding, Joy.”

“Bread pudding?” Birdie smiled down at her daughter. “You like bread pudding.”

“Not if it doesn’t have raisins,” Elsie whispered, but loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

“Does it have raisins in it?” Joy asked.

“No, honey, it doesn’t,” Julie replied quietly.

Jethro asked Jack about the baseball practice and who was on the Fertile team. Jack gleefully told him how he had edged out Scott Graham as team catcher.

When the chicken and dumpling bowl was empty, Jill removed it from the table and brought the pan of bread pudding and a pitcher of cream.

“You’ll like this, sugar, even without raisins.” Birdie added a generous amount of cream to the pudding in her daughter’s bowl.

Julie’s eyes met Joe’s briefly, then went to her father, whose face seemed anxious. He was watching Birdie serve her daughter.

Julie was relieved when the meal was finished. She had eaten automatically. When the boys pushed back their chairs and left the table, Jason rose, too.

“Finish your pudding, Jason.” When his father spoke, the boy slumped back down on the chair and spooned the pudding into his mouth at a fast pace until the bowl was empty. He looked at his father, then left the table and hurried outside.

After Julie lifted Joy from her stool and washed her face and hands, the child went to Elsie.

“Come play with me, pl-ease!”

“You’re gettin’ me dirty.” Elsie pushed Joy’s hands from her dress.

“I am not. My hands just got washed.” She held her palms up.

“I don’t want to play with you. You’re too little.”

Joy backed away. “I don’t like you, either. So there!” She turned and ran toward the door. Jethro caught her up in his arms before she could go outside.

“She’ll play with you later, punkin. This place is strange to her now.”

“I don’t like her. She’s mean. Jason don’t like her, either.” Joy wriggled, trying to get down. Jethro set her on her feet and she ran out the door.

Julie caught Jill hiding a smile behind a dish towel.

“Oh, Jethro. I’m so sorry. Elsie has been alone so much that she doesn’t know how to act with other children.”

Jethro always insisted the children eat what they put on their plates. Julie wondered how he would react to the chicken and dumpling Elsie left on her plate and to the half-filled dish of pudding when she left the table to go stand beside her mother.

“What can I do to help, Julie?” Birdie began gathering dishes from the table.

“You can scrape any food left on the plates here in the slop bucket for the hogs and stack the dishes on the counter. Jill and I will start washing.”

“Honey, go sit down,” Birdie said to Elsie, “while Mommy helps Julie.”

No,” Julie said quickly when Birdie dumped the peas in the bucket. “Just throw out the food left on the plates. The corn bread and pudding still left in the pan can be eaten later.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to save the peas.”

Jethro watched from the doorway, then went down the hall to the porch.

Chapter 19

S
UNDAY WAS A SLOW DAY IN
F
ERTILE
. Corbin finished his run, bathed and put on a freshly ironed pair of tan pants and a white shirt. He headed for Sparky’s Eatery, the only place that served food on Sunday.

Yesterday Corbin had circled around to go back to the Jones farm when he saw the blades on the windmill spinning, the signal the boy had been found. He had been relieved. A small boy thought.

Something was going on out there that had the younger Jones girl riled up against someone. Corbin keep seeing in his mind’s eye the worried look on Julie’s face. Christ on a horse! When had he started thinking about Miss Jones as Julie?

Well, hell. Why not? She was a pretty woman and he liked the way she had taken on the care of her younger brothers and sisters. She reminded him a lot of Elaine, although Elaine was much smaller, more fragile.

Goddamn the son-of-a-bitch that killed her!

“Been to church already?” Sparky asked when Corbin entered the eatery.

“Naw. Went for a run. Is the missus cooking flapjacks this morning?”

“Sure is. Want a stack?”

“Yeah. And coffee.”

“That goes without sayin’. Hear that, honeybunch?” he called toward the kitchen. “Chief wants a stack.” Sparky set a cup of steaming coffee on the counter in front of Corbin. “Otto Bloom was in here last night raving about how he was going to get even with you for keeping him out of his house.”

“Otto doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground,” Corbin muttered.

“Hey, that’s good.” Sparky laughed, showing a mouth of gold-filled teeth.

“His kid has the diphtheria. The doc’s keeping Otto out so he won’t spread the germs around town. Otto’s too dumb to understand he could help spread the epidemic.”

“He’s hangin’ out with Walter Johnson.”

“Two of a kind.”

“I’d not want to tangle with the two of them when they get boozed up. Watch your back around Otto—he’s sneaky. Walter is mean as a ruttin’ moose, but he’ll come at you straight on.”

“Mornin’, Chief.” Young Dr. Forbes came in and slid onto the stool beside Corbin.

“Mornin’, Doc.”

“Your landlady said I’d find you here.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Maybe nothing. Maybe I just like your company.” Dr. Forbes grinned at Sparky. “How about coffee?”

“Comin’ up.”

While Corbin finished his breakfast, he listened to the banter between Sparky and Dr. Todd Forbes and decided that the young doctor could shoot the bull with the best of them.

“Missouri watermelons can’t compare to Tennessee watermelons. Tennessee watermelons have the nicest, biggest, flattest seeds for spitting. I can spit one darn near twenty feet and I’m not even the champion.”

“Come on, Doc. I’m not talkin’ seeds. I’m talking about size. Missouri grows watermelons big around as a water barrel—”

“Yeah. Tennessee grows ’em as big around as a wagon wheel.”

Corbin stood. “I don’t know if I can wade through all this bullshit to get out of here.” He placed some coins on the counter, held up his pants legs and walked carefully to the door.

“Prissy, isn’t he?” Dr. Forbes said over his shoulder to Sparky as he followed Corbin out. They walked to the street corner before they spoke.