The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [12]
“How would you know?” Evan reached for the honey. “I haven’t ever seen you talking to any girls.”
“You haven’t been paying attention.” John peeked at his pocket watch to see how long before Mama gave them a lecture on the virtues of a fine woman. He washed down the biscuit with a long drink of buttermilk. “You see, I’m smart. I’m observing them all so when the right time comes, I’ll know who to ask.”
“Whom,” Mama said. “What about courting and praying for God to put the right woman in your path?”
“Oh, I’ll do that.” John eyed the custard pie, his favorite. “When I’m ready to settle down.”
“At age one hundred,” Evan said. “When your teeth are gone and you need someone to spoon food in your mouth. You’re married to this ranch.”
“Don’t get any backtalk from cows.”
“I agree,” Mark said. “Me and John will run this ranch with women who don’t talk, just cook.”
“Mercy.” Mama rose from the table. “You boys would drive a preacher to drink. A woman is not a cook or a ranch hand or a matter of a joke. She’s a gift from God to help make your life’s journey easier.”
John hid his grin. “Yes ma’am. We’ll remember that. Won’t we, boys?”
His brothers echoed a “yes ma’am,” even Davis. John took a passing look at Bert. No emotion on that boy’s face. Didn’t he know how to laugh? Bert hadn’t wanted supper, but Mama insisted. She said if he still felt poorly by bedtime, she’d give him a dose of castor oil.
After supper, when the brothers were all swimming and soapin’ up in the creek, the boy might relax and enjoy himself. The water rushing over the rocks always comforted John, and he hoped it would loosen up Bert too. Davis compared the air-churned bubbles to the amount of soap Mama expected them to use.
“Let’s help Mama clean up and then we’ll head to the creek,” Evan said.
“Aaron and I tested out the new rope. We hung it over the cottonwood. Maybe this one won’t break.”
“Not me,” Davis said. “I’ll help Mama if you want to go on.”
Davis didn’t like heights, and he liked rope swings even less. When he was four, outlaws kidnapped him and John rode after them. Now John realized what a dumb move that had been. Uncle Parker and his wife, Sage, came to the rescue by helping to lower both boys down from a cliff. Davis needed to rid himself of the fear of heights and dangling ropes, but not tonight.
“What do you say, Bert?” Aaron said, who looked like Evan and their father. “Besides needin’ a bath, you could show us how good you can swim.”
“The word is ‘well’ not ‘good',” Mama said. “You boys need to pay more attention to your grammar.”
“Yes ma’am.” Laughter rose from all of them — including Mama.
“Can’t swim,” Bert said. “I’ll take my bath later.”
Aaron snickered. “There’s plenty of shallow spots.”
The boy turned a pasty white. Obviously he was afraid of water. “Take it easy on him until he knows us better,” John said. The kid asked to take his bath before supper, but John wanted him to finish mucking out the stalls. No point getting all smelly again so soon after a bath.
Aaron clasped a hand on Bert’s shoulder, and Mark did the same on the other shoulder. “We’ll take care of you, Bert. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Shortly afterward, the barefoot boys headed to the creek armed with soap, towels, clean clothes, and plenty of tricks up their sleeves for Bert. John knew their plans. Innocent fun. They’d never abuse the kid.
John followed them outside. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “I left the tack room in a mess and need to straighten it up.”
“I’ll do it.” Bert’s pale face indicated he didn’t feel well at all.
“Thanks, but I want to check on what needs to be repaired. Why don’t you get yourself clean and then head up to the house. As nasty as castor oil tastes, you might need a dose of it.”
A pitiful pair of large brown eyes met him.
“You have to get a bath, Bert,” he said. “There’s no getting out of it.”
Bert swallowed hard and lagged behind the others. Aaron turned to Mark with a grin, then snatched up Bert