McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [96]
Lorelei’s stomach rumbled with anticipation.
Tillie washed up first, then Melina. Pearl was fidgety with fatigue and hunger.
“I ought to help with the baby,” Melina fretted, having just emptied the basin. Her gaze strayed covetously to the featherbed. “Instead of just laying around like I was the lady of the house.”
Lorelei gave her a look of mock sternness.
“It would be something to be the lady of a house like this,” Tillie said, bouncing Pearl against her shoulder.
“Supper’s on!” Heddy bellowed, from somewhere down below.
“I’ll be back with a tray,” Lorelei told Melina.
She and Tillie descended to the kitchen, a place of bright colors and delicious aromas.
“Where’s that pregnant girl?” Heddy asked immediately. “She’s got to eat.”
“I thought I’d take her a plate,” Lorelei said.
Heddy’s smile broadened. “I’ll do that. You sit down and have yourself some of this chicken-n-dumplin’s.”
Lorelei sagged gratefully into a chair at the long table, almost overwhelmed with hunger.
Heddy lifted the lid off a massive crock in the center of the table and ladled a generous portion of the steaming delicacy within onto a chipped china plate. She nodded to Tillie.
“You sit down, too, girl. I got some milk heatin’ on the stove for the sprout, there. When I get back, I’ll take him in hand.” She shook her head. “Pearl,” she muttered to herself, as she headed for the stairs.
The back door opened just then, and John stepped in, followed by the Captain.
“I gather this is a good place,” the Captain said, favoring Lorelei with a little smile.
“Indeed it is,” Lorelei replied, having dished up her own serving of chicken and dumplings. In San Antonio, she’d had meals like this one every evening of her life. It might have been years ago, instead of mere days.
“There aren’t any ghosts here,” Tillie announced, shifting Pearl on her lap and filling a plate for herself. She scooped up a spoonful and blew on it before offering the baby a taste.
Heddy returned, greeted the men with a blustery laugh. “Don’t just stand there wearin’ out my good rug,” she said. “Wash your hands and have some supper.” She nodded toward the ceiling. “It will be a wonder if that girl gets three bites down her gullet before she drops off to sleep.”
“What about Sorrowful?” Tillie asked.
“That the dog?” Heddy countered.
Tillie swallowed, nodded.
Heddy patted Tillie’s shoulder. “Got a pan of scraps for him, don’t you worry,” she said, and pried the baby out of Tillie’s arms. “All of you get to eatin’, or I’m going to be insulted. Think you don’t like my food.”
“Can we stay here, Pa?” Tillie asked. Heddy was seated in a big rocking chair over by the stove, spooning warm milk into the baby’s mouth and crooning to him in her rough, comforting way. “Me and Pearl, I mean? I like this place.”
John cleared his throat. “Tillie—”
“You know how to work, girl?” Heddy broke in, studying Tillie closely. “You don’t look afraid of turnin’ a hand to what needs doin’. Fact is, I could use some help around here.”
John’s eyes widened. Lorelei was as surprised as he appeared to be.
“Please, Pa?” Tillie cajoled. “Maybe just till you come back through with the cattle?”
“I believe this good woman is being polite, Tillie,” John said.
Heddy gave a delighted cackle. “First time I ever been called ‘polite,’” she said. “I’m offerin’ room and board and two dollars a week. Take it or leave it.”
“Please?” Tillie whispered.
John shifted on his chair. “I reckon you’d be all right here,” he said, with a note of relief in his voice. “You’ve got to be sure, though, Tillie. What if you get lonesome when we’re gone?”
“I won’t get lonesome,” Tillie said, spearing a hunk of dumpling and lifting it to her mouth.
“I promise I’ll look after them,” Heddy said, and the note of hopefulness in her voice brought a sting to Lorelei’s eyes. “A cattle drive ain’t no place for a young girl and a baby, anyhow.”
“You are right about