Ginger almost choked on the milk.
Kate stood up, went to the sink, and rinsed her cup. “Since Rooster was the name of the town and since most men are like little banty roosters, she had that sign made that still hangs out there on the porch—the Banty House.”
“And then she made the rules that still hang on the wall above the piano,” Connie said.
Ginger made a mental note to reread the whole list of rules she’d seen when she crossed what the ladies called the parlor. Connie had quoted the first one to her on the way to Rooster from Hondo the day before: Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Heb. 13:2
Ginger wondered why that was the first rule in a brothel.
Sloan made sure there wasn’t a fleck of dust anywhere on the car, and then he rapped on the back door and went inside. The smell of sweet elderberry jelly filled the whole place. A dozen pint jars sat on the counter. Once the people in the area knew that they were available, they’d fly out of the house pretty damn fast.
No one was in the kitchen, so he poked his head through the basement doorway and yelled, “Kate, you down here?”
“I am, but I’m on my way up, so stay up there,” she yelled. “And I’ve got dibs on you for the whole afternoon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” If he’d been a drinking man, his mouth would have watered at the aroma of apples and cinnamon floating up the stairs. But Sloan would rather have an actual apple pie than a double shot of moonshine.
Thank goodness the law down in Hondo never bothered much with Rooster, and not even the most conscientious police officer would lock up an eighty-year-old woman for brewing shine for nothing but personal use.
Kate took the steps a little slower than she had when he’d first come home, but she didn’t need to pull herself up by the banister by any means. “I want you to plant our cornfield today. It’s two weeks since the last frost. I saved seed from last year’s crop, so we’re ready to go. Come harvest time, I’ll be gettin’ almighty low on my supply of corn for mash. Since I been makin’ flavors, seems like I can hardly keep up.”
He held the door for her and then closed it behind her. “You’ve got everything all safe, and you’ve double-checked your vent pipes, haven’t you?”
“Every week, regular as clockwork, just like Mama taught me, but thanks for reminding me,” she said. “Have you met Ginger?”
“Yes, I surely have. Will she be needin’ a ride to town later this evenin’?”
Kate shook her head. “No, I don’t reckon so. We’re going to keep her another day or two.”
“How’d you find this one?” Sloan asked.
“Connie found her sittin’ on the park bench in front of the beauty shop yesterday.” Kate went on to tell him the rest of what had happened.
“I’ve told y’all before that pickin’ up strangers isn’t a good thing.” Sloan followed her into the kitchen.
“Now, just exactly what could one little bitty pregnant woman do to harm the three of us?” Kate protested.
“She might not be as innocent as she looks,” Sloan warned her.
“Well, she’s good help in the kitchen, and she says she knows her way around a mop and broom. We may keep her for a while instead of our usual just two or three days.”
“Why is that rule so important anyway?” Sloan asked.
“Mama said that we wouldn’t want to turn away someone that might be an angel sent from God to help us get through a difficult time,” Kate answered.
“Just be careful,” Sloan told her.
“Always.” Kate patted him on the back. “Shhh . . .” Kate put a finger over her lips. “I hear them all talking in the dining room. Betsy will set the dinner table in there since there’s five of us now. Speakin’ of that, since the garden is comin’ on, reckon you could give us another day a week, like maybe Saturday?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “Starting tomorrow?”
“That would be great,” Kate told him.
“What would be great?” Betsy heard the last word as she came through the door separating the dining room and kitchen. She picked up a basket of biscuits. “We’ve got everything on the table but the sweet tea. By the time y’all get washed up, we’ll be ready for grace.”
Sloan took his time washing up, then fished a comb from his back pocket and ran it through his black hair. He wore it a little longer these days than he had in the service, but lots of things had changed since then.
He was the last one to the table, and they’d seated him right beside Ginger. He sat down and bowed his head. Betsy said a short grace; then they began to pass the food around the table.
“The rules say that we always bless our food,” Kate said. “You figured that out last night, Ginger, but we didn’t tell you that we take turns. When Mama was alive, we divided it by oldest to youngest.” Kate put a fried chicken leg on her plate. “I say the breakfast prayer. Betsy does the noon one, and Connie takes care of supper.”
“Fried chicken is my favorite meal.” Sloan was glad they never asked him to pray. He and God hadn’t had much of a relationship since he’d lost all his buddies over there in the sandbox.
“Mine, too,” Ginger said. “I never learned to fry it like this, though.”
“The secret is in being patient. Some things you just can’t hurry along.” Betsy smiled across the table at her. “The sisters and I’ve decided that if you’re willing, maybe you’d stay through Sunday. That’s Easter, you know, and we’d hate for you to be out on the road all alone on a holiday.”
“Are you serious?” Ginger asked.
She seemed genuinely surprised at the invitation. Maybe she wasn’t out to fleece his friends after all and was really what she claimed to be—just a woman down on her luck.
“Yes, we’re very serious. Mama wouldn’t want us to turn you out right here at Easter. It was her favorite holiday,” Kate offered.
“You barely know me,” Ginger said.
“They’re pretty good at reading people.” Sloan dipped deep into the mashed potatoes when they came his way. “I’ve seen them follow rule number one a lot of times.” They’d sure looked after him plenty of times since his grandmother died.
“And the next morning, we sometimes feed our stranger and send them on their way,” Betsy said as she picked up the gravy boat and handed it to Sloan. “Mama said that the rule said we could tell within twenty-four hours if we had an angel or just a passerby.”
Connie shot a smile across the table toward her. “I’ve been wearing a lapis lazuli next to my heart since you got here. It leads to enlightenment and wisdom. In the dream, I saw us all four hunting Easter eggs together. I never go against a dream, just in case it’s Mama talkin’ to me in spirit form.”
She’d given Sloan a small chunk of rose quartz when he first came to work for them. He was supposed to keep it with him at all times, and according to Connie, it would heal all emotional problems. He’d thrown it in the dresser drawer with his socks when he got home and had forgotten all about it until that moment.