Page 32 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
“Depends what the bear’s been eating,” Owen said.
“This one ate nuts and berries. I watched Yeller gut it.”
“Levi.” Virgil’s voice was a low warning. “Ladies don’t care for talk like that.”
“Yeah.” Nettie let her tongue hang out with disgust.
“I’m not bothered by talk of butchering,” Marigold assured him. “Two years ago, we had wild pigeons come through our farm. My uncle killed a hundred in thirty minutes, swinging a fence picket. We lost all our corn, and they broke four fruit trees, snapped them right onto the ground, there were so many sitting on the branches. I plucked and gutted while my sister pickled and jugged. I can’t say I enjoyed it, or that I’m in a hurry to eat it again, but we didn’t go hungry.”
“I used to see them when I was a boy,” Virgil said. “Flocks a mile wide passing over for an hour, blocking out the sun and sounding like a tornado. My mother would hold me under the steps of the big house, praying the whole time. We’d come out and find shit on the ground an inch deep, like it had snowed.”
“Is that real, Pa?” Levi asked, eyes wide.
“’Tis.” Virgil nodded.
Marigold’s attention was caught by more than the spectacle of what he’d described. She’d only ever heard people who were or had been enslaved use the term “big house.” Emmett distracted her by claiming to have eaten alligator. Stoney explained how to roast rattlesnake and turtle.
“Hell, when we were in the army, Virgil and I would have eaten the ass out of a live skunk if—”
“Owen,” Virgil growled.
“Let’s all of us enjoy what’s here tonight,” Marigold said, biting back her smile. “The soup should be warm if your biscuits are baked.”
…
Two hours later, Marigold coaxed the children to say good night.
“I’ll turn in with them. Thank you all for coming. It was nice meeting you, Emmett and Stoney. Thank you again for your assistance today, Owen.”
The door of the cabin closed, but the men didn’t take the hint. They stayed around the dying fire with Virgil, all of them mellow from whiskey-spiked coffee and a full belly.
Emmett broke the silence with a suppressed burp. “That’s the best meal I’ve had in years. If you don’t marry her, I will.”
“Hell, you will.” Virgil meant it to come out as a good-natured drawl, but he spoke a little too fast and hard, turning it into more of a warning rumble.
The men exchanged looks, and Virgil saw their mouths twitch.
Shit. A prickling sensation went up his arms and into his scalp. He cleared his throat, annoyed with himself for sounding so possessive. For feeling it.
“She’s here to mind my children, same as Leyohna. You want a woman to cook for you, place an ad in the papers and take what arrives, same as I had to.” He drained the last of his coffee.
“She could still watch your children and be married to someone else. Leyohna is,” Owen pointed out.
“I told you more than once tonight to shut up. I’m starting to mean it,” Virgil warned, still missing the mark on keeping a friendly tone.
Stoney snorted and said, “Buena suerte,” under his breath because Owen had lost more than one bet trying to keep his trap shut longer than a full minute.
“She’s not hard to look at,” Emmett commented to Owen, as if this was a conversation they had every right to continue. “Anyone would want her.”
“No shit,” Owen said into the dregs of his cup. “A woman who can smother a bear with her skirt, skin it herself, then throw it on the fire and feed half an army?”
“Is that the story we’re going with?” Virgil rolled his eyes to the stars. It wasn’t enough for Owen to talk more than anyone else; he had to talk the tallest, too.
“Ought to call her Bear-igold,” Stoney said.
Emmett spit out his coffee, and the men guffawed so hard, they wobbled on their seats.
“Jesus Christ.” Virgil rose, thinking of how upset Marigold had been earlier, worried they would tease her to death.Sad news, Bear-igold. They would. Mercilessly.Bunch of dumbasses.
