“Mm-hmm. His name is Puckett, and he sure enough is from Texas—big hat, shiny guns, and cowboy boots.”
She didn’t mention that he was as handsome as Adam on the first day of creation, but Sissy cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. Betsy swallowed a smile. Obviously her young aunt already had her suspicions. Betsy would have to work on convincing everyone that she thought him as plain as rye bread. If he knew how she described him on paper, she’d never have the upper hand.
Uncle Fred nudged Betsy. Obediently, she repositioned herself to the bench as they took their seats and bowed their heads. As her uncle said grace over their breakfast, Betsy added her own prayers. Automatically she prayed for Ma, Pa, and her younger siblings, for her brother Josiah, his wife, Katie Ellen, their children and soon-to-be-born baby, but then she said a prayer for blessings over her new venture and thanked the Lord for the dual gift He’d given her in the form of a deputy and the idea to make the most use of him. She prayed she’d be a good steward of the inspiration and not let a single movement of his go to waste.
The amens were said, and Baby Eloise called out from her crib. Sissy got up to get her, and Uncle Fred watched her leave. As soon as the coast was clear, he leaned forward. “What’s the deputy like? Any chance he’ll make a difference around here?”
Betsy thought of his determination, his fearlessness as he charged toward the Sanders house when he heard a woman’s cries. “He’s going to stir things up, no doubt about it. Whether he fixes something or only gets himself killed remains to be seen.”
“Why would he come here? You gotta know that when the governor of a state invites outsiders to come rule over the people, it ain’t going to sit well. No one in their right mind would want the job . . . unless they’re running from something,” said Uncle Fred.
Betsy mulled that over. Sheriff Taney had been elected by the people. Overturning the election results and sending in a replacement hadn’t been popular. So why had the deputy come? Maybe he’d made a mistake in Texas? Killed the wrong person? Failed to protect his partner? Let a bandit get away? There had to be some sort of hot water boiling beneath his feet, or he would have stayed put. Absently she twisted a button on her cuff. What if her deputy was less than heroic? That took some of the fun out of her project.
“Seems like since the Bald Knobbers organized, things have settled down,” Uncle Fred said. “But you know the government. They can’t have people taking care of anything on their own. Only a genuine representative of the state is qualified. That’s how it’s been ever since . . .”
Betsy didn’t have to listen to know exactly where her uncle’s speech would wander next. States’ rights, individual liberty, government corruption—she’d heard it all repeatedly. Uncle Fred thought of himself as a statesman, but his best material never made it into his newspaper. Instead he published stories about whose kin was in town for a visit, the rising or falling price of timber, and notices of the winners of the school board elections. Nothing controversial enough to lose readers or bring any threats to his door.
Not taking time to fix a drink of her own, Betsy drained Sissy’s cup just as her aunt returned with a tousle-headed tot in her arms.
“I declare, I wish you’d stop filching off my plate.”
“It’s a cup, not a plate.” But Betsy reached for a new mug and sloshed the last of the milk from the can into it for Sissy. Messing the blond hair of her little cousin, she said, “I’m going on out. Don’t want to miss the introduction of the deputy to the people. It could be the most entertainment we’ve had around here since Miranda got attacked by the headless chicken.”
“Umm, Betsy,” Sissy said, “before you go, I’ve been meaning to ask if you could give me a hand with the rabbits. I’m hankering after some rabbit stew, and we need to thin out the cages.” Judging from Sissy’s no-nonsense scowl, her timing was no coincidence.
Betsy flashed a desperate look at Uncle Fred, who suddenly took an avid interest in the bottom of his mug. Why this morning of all mornings? Because this morning was precisely the morning Sissy wanted Betsy home and out of trouble. Just when things started to get interesting, Sissy had to remind Betsy that no matter how many years passed, she was still a junior member of the family with no rights. Which was why she couldn’t wait to have a place of her own.
“How many rabbits do you want?” Betsy rolled up her sleeves in preparation for her task.
Chapter 5