on the shoes he would wear up to the house.
âSheâs looking to hire someone to help her on her ranch.â
âThis is cow country.â
âI expect she has cows, too.â
âWhy has she come here instead of Austin or San Antonio?â
âYouâd better let her tell you that. I just met her myself.â
âIâll look forward to meeting her. Maybe sheâll have some news.â
Walter didnât ask if the widow was young or pretty. Thatâs why he would be perfect for her.
* * *
Sarah had remained in her chair after Salty left, more shaken than she cared to admit. She had never had any trouble telling a potential hand that he didnât fit her needs. Nor had she had any trouble replacing them when they failed to do their job. So why did she feel bad about telling Salty he wasnât what she was looking for?
Okay, so she found him attractive. It wasnât like he was so handsome sheâd dream about him tonight. She probably found him attractive because he seemed very nice, had a sense of humor, and had been kind to Jared and Ellen. She was, however, annoyed at him for thinking sheâd treated Jared like an invalid while forcing Ellen to do the work usually expected of a boy. Sheâd done everything she could to treat her children normally, but her situation wasnât normal. There was no sense in taking herself to task over Saltyâs disappointment. If he was as hardworking and dependable as Rose said, heâd find a way to own his own land.
Rather than give herself an opportunity to continue to think about Salty, she left the parlor and headed for the kitchen. The voices coming through the open doorway made it easy to find. She paused in the doorway. Jared was sitting on a stool next to Rose. Ellen was on her other side, as interested as her brother in what Rose was doing.
âI donât usually do this,â Rose was saying, âbut youâre company so I have an excuse.â
âDonât people like them?â Jared asked.
âThey like them too much. If Zac had his way, Iâd never cook anything else.â
âIt sounds fascinating,â Sarah said, entering the kitchen. âWhoâs Zac, and why wouldnât he want you to cook anything else?â
âSheâs making doughnuts,â Ellen said, turning to her mother with a big smile. âShe said sheâd teach me how if I wanted.â
âZac is my husbandâs youngest brother,â Rose told Sarah. âHeâs the same age as your children and spoiled beyond redemption.â
Ellen and Jared were cutting the holes out of doughnuts and handing the dough back to Rose.
âYou can see why I donât do this often,â Rose said. âGeorge has five brothers and we have three hands just now. With the three of you, that makes twelve. At two doughnuts each, thatâs two dozen.â
âYou have that many already,â Sarah pointed out.
âTheyâll want a couple more before they go to bed. Theyâd eat a dozen apiece if Iâd let them.â
Sarah felt a pang that sheâd never made doughnuts with her children, but there had been no time or money for anything as frivolous as that. Over the next half hour, Sarah helped Rose cook the doughnuts in a pot of boiling fat. As soon as the doughnuts were laid out to cool, Jared and Ellen sprinkled them with sugar. When they were done, the children counted forty-two.
âI think thatâs enough for one day,â Rose said, surveying their work. âNow we have to put them in a tin before Zac and Tyler come in to help me with supper. Jared, Iâm going to put you in charge of the tin. Youâre not to let Zac or any of the others have a doughnut until after supper. Would you do that for me?â
âHow am I supposed to stop them?â
Rose handed over a large wooden spoon. âGive them a whack with this. That ought to slow them down.â
Jared