Keeping Secrets Read Online Free Page B

somethin’?”
    “If you’d give two hoots about yer woman, you’d remember.”
    Jim looked uncomfortable then, taking off his battered Stetson and twisting it in blackened, gnarled fingers. He searched his wife’s face for any sign that would help him out.
    “Toothpaste? Shampoo?”
    Dorothy harrumphed her disgust, drank more coffee, and spilled it over the front of her dress. Then, she waved to Jim, telling him to go on, git to town, she’d get the item herself if he didn’t know what it was.
    Sadie knew, then, that all laughing was finished. Dorothy meant serious business, and she had better do her best in the kitchen. And if Jim knew what was good for him, he’d get out of Dorothy’s kitchen soon.
    Sadie worked efficiently during the following hour, side by side with Dorothy. The silence stretched between them comfortably and with the respect Sadie knew was required of her.
    She finished the sausage gravy, and then mixed batter for the hotcakes, pouring perfect yellow orbs of it onto a steaming griddle and flipping the cakes expertly. She and Dorothy cooked mounds of scrambled eggs, shining pots of grits and baked oatmeal, and great square pans of bacon cooked to perfection. Then they carried the vast quantities of food to the beautiful dining room. The steam table sat along one wall, and they slid the pans onto the grids. The steaming water beneath the pans, heated by electricity, kept everything piping hot.
    Sadie made sure everything was in order, setting out clean plates, napkins, silverware, mugs, and tumblers. Then she moved swiftly through the swinging doors as the clattering of boots and the rough voices of the jostling ranch hands were heard coming down the hallway from the main entrance.
    She was never at ease being in the dining room with the men. Her mother would not let her work here at Aspen East Ranch if she thought Sadie would be among the ranch hands. It was unthinkable. It was bad enough the way she was always talking about horses with her boss, Richard Caldwell.
    Mam was too strict, Sadie thought. Most of the men who worked at the ranch were married or had girlfriends. Richard Caldwell told her once that the white covering she wore reminded the men of a nun’s habit. It scared them and made them think twice about misbehaving. It was good for them that she was there. It reminded them that there was more to life than running cows and racing trucks and chasing girls they didn’t respect anyhow.
    Sadie had assured Richard Caldwell that she wasn’t any better than those men’s wives. They were good women who treated their men well, and she didn’t want to be viewed as someone who was better than they. She was certainly only human herself, regardless of her clothes.
    Richard Caldwell had only looked at her, levelly, and said nothing. She didn’t know whether he took what she said as truth or not.
    When she returned to the kitchen, Dorothy had disappeared once again. With one look at the closed bathroom door, Sadie stifled a smile and bent to the task of cleaning up. She soaked pans in hot, soapy water, filled the large, commercial dishwasher, wiped counters, scoured the stove, and then felt dizzy and a bit weak.
    She hadn’t eaten her breakfast at home, that’s what it was. Well, she’d drink some orange juice, then fill a plate after the men were finished eating.
    What was that?
    She straightened, turned off the hot water, then listened.
    A knock, although a soft one. There. Another one.
    Wiping her hands on her apron, Sadie went to the door and opened it slowly. She didn’t see anyone, until she looked down. There was a very dirty, very brown, little boy, clutching the hand of a little girl who must be his sister. She was an exact replica of him, only grimier, if such a thing was possible.
    Their hair was impossibly matted, snarled until it stood out from their little heads, stiff with dirt and dust. There were brown streaks caked onto their faces. The little boy’s T-shirt had been