cough gave the excuse for her head to move, and she coughed it in Holt’s direction. She couldn’t help herself. She had to take a better look at him. Holt stood so that he offered her a steady view of the back of his hat. She scanned it quickly, then coughed herself into facing forward again. “Well, gentlemen, I really must take your leave. I hope the food will please you.”
“It looks wonderful,” I said.
This got her to look at me. She had not previously found my visage too terrific and still did not, but she flung a great big smile my way that put the cats to scratching in my belly.
“You are not a complainer,” she said, and that great big smile shrunk. “This is not a time for complainers.”
“No, ma’am,” I said, as brilliant a retort as I could conjure on the instant.
“I admire you for that,” she said. Her tone of speaking was plain and right at you. Most of the giggly girl squeaking had been bleached from it. “But we’ll try for a better meal tomorrow anyhow. I hope to send out some pork in the morning.”
“You are thoughtful, Sue Lee,” Jack Bull put in. This landed him back in the window with her and her whole face straightened up at his and I could tell that the ridiculous riverboat style he had was working.
“Thank you, Jack Bull. May I call you Jack Bull?”
“I would have it no other way.”
“Good. Well, I’ll have Honeybee”—she held her palm facedown and halfway to the floor—“she’s this little young girl at the house—I’ll have her bring out the food if I can’t come.”
“That would do fine.”
“Good night all,” she called out, and Jack Bull jumped ahead of her to open the door. The man was fixing to be endless in his efforts to charm her down. That was clear as cow patties on a snowbank.
“Good night,” I said.
“So long,” said Clyde, who still sulked a smidgin.
Jack Bull halted and sucked himself up as tall as he could get, which was plenty.
“Holt,” he said, “the lady said good night to all. Say good night back.”
“Hey, Chiles,” Clyde said hotly. “You don’t tell him nothing!”
“He is being rude.”
“If he needs telling, I’ll tell him. You don’t tell him nothing!”
“Then tell him, Clyde!”
“Oh, gentlemen, please!”
“He don’t need telling, Chiles!”
Holt saved our association by facing about and saying, “It’s okay, George.” He touched his fingers to his hat brim. “ ’Night, missy.”
Jack Bull and Clyde kept staring hard at each other and the widow lingered a look on them, then turned and started pushing at the door. This brought Jack Bull to, and he opened it and stepped outside with her.
“I’ll see her to her horse,” he said and closed the plank behind him.
The hot thoughts were still visible in Clyde’s expression.
“Holt,” he said, “you never have to be meek if I’m around.”
No attitude of any sort was in Holt’s face, which was always the way. He looked the same in a hot spot as he did sleeping. Anything he thought hardly ever made it to where it showed.
“It weren’t no hardship, George.”
I did a duckwalk over to the grub bucket and bowed my head close to it and oversniffed to draw attention my way.
“Let’s eat,” I said. “There’s plenty for all. Smells good.”
Clyde squatted into his corner and said nothing, but Holt joined me at the grub bucket and said, “It does. It surely does.”
I drove a mess of potatoes into my mouth. I wrapped a string of bacon around a corn-bread chunk and set it chasing after the potatoes. The race to my gullet was more or less a tie.
Jack Bull had only stayed out a minute. He and Clyde picked at their food and were silent. Holt and me took up the slack and just slammed away the grub.
“Holt,” Jack Bull said after a bit. “Do you want my bacon?”
“I could eat more,” Holt said. He was starting to flourish in the chatter business.
“Good.” Jack Bull got up and walked over and dropped a nice meaty bacon string on Holt’s plate. It was a meaty bacon string that would have usually been mine. I made no complaint.
“ ’Preciate it,” Holt said.
Clyde watched all of this and his face relaxed a good deal. He chewed away with his big jaw muscles throbbing. Pretty soon he looked my way and said, “Roedel, you want my bacon?”
I was full, but his gesture could not be scorned. I would have to tough down another