“A new what?”
“A new God.”
“Isn’t there only the one?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“My mother would say that’s blasphemy.”
“Perhaps to her.”
“But not to you?”
“Nor to you.”
“Why not to me?”
He smiles again. He is rapidly becoming the most peculiar person I have ever had an opportunity to speak with, let alone share a meal with.
“A question for another time, I think,” he replies instead of answering. He tilts his head at my hands that are still picking at my bread. “Eat, little bird.”
I do. Then so does he.
Sometime later when I come back out from cleaning up in the kitchen, our guest is no longer at the table, nor is the flower I left. However, it is impossible for me to wonder too long where either wandered off to with plenty of work to be done and a full belly to keep me moving.
For the most part.
After surviving on so little for so long, I feel incredibly lethargic as I change the severely rumpled bed sheets upstairs, wondering if he was honest about the quality of his sleeping arrangements based on the state of it. Surely the grand four-poster has to be better than sleeping on a bed that mainly consists of straw.
My knees nearly buckle as I linger too long near the side of the bed. Soft sheets and whispering scents of smoke and evergreen beckoning me closer like a lullaby before I manage to snap myself out of it. To avoid further temptation, I make myself busy the rest of the day with anything and everything in any other part of the house. Whatever I think might earn me Mrs. Jensen’sgood graces, and indeed, she does seem momentarily pleased when she comes back to find I already have a beef stew on for dinner.
“That’ll do for the day,” she says, herding me toward the back door. “I ran into the gentleman in the street on my way back, and he asked if I could bring his supper down to the saloon this evening. He has business there and won’t be back until late, so you can go on home.”
“I could take it to him for you,” I offer, in no hurry to return to the hayloft but also more than a little interested to see him again.
“Absolutely not,” she says, sounding cross now. “Girl like you will only find your way to ruin there. Go on with you. Besides, I have my own business to attend to.” I know better than to ask what that might be, even if curiosity burns at me, but it’s quickly forgotten when she says, “I’ll see you back here tomorrow before breakfast.”
“Really?” I beam. “You mean it?”
“Yes, I’m still needed at my daughter’s. And the gentleman seems to think you did a fine job, so I suppose…” She gives me a sigh, but she also gives me my day’s wages, and I am so overjoyed to haveanykind of income that I don’t even think to examine it until I am hidden away again in the hayloft.
She gave me a whole dollar. And yes, maybe it will take me weeks to scrape together enough for a bounty at this rate, but maybe everything will also turn out all right. Maybe Mrs. Jensen will come to find me so indispensable that she’ll hire me on full time, pay part of my wages in room and board. Maybe she will help me find other work, too, so that I can leave here sooner. Findsomeplace.
There is a call from down below, and I go still, listening until I hear it again. As quietly as possible, I creep over to the hatch, lifting it just enough to allow me to peer into the stable.
A rugged face, half hidden beneath a beat-up hat, looks backup at me. “Thought I heard you up there. You move around like a flustered animal.”
“I do not,” I argue, glaring at him. “Besides, I was getting food for the horses.”
“Mm-hmm,” he mutters, and I am fairly certain he grumbles something else that sounds a lot likea rotten liar, too,before he switches to a different topic entirely. “You actually have a gun up there?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you use it?”
“When?”
“Just now.”