Yo was, of course, not about to come in and take care of his proper responsibility of chaperoning the twins. He was sitting outside, and the sweet sound of the fiddle was drifting through the woods and down the mountain. It was a lively tune today, full of happiness and joy. Pa was still thrilled over the church basket.
"See, Esme-girl," he'd told her on the walk back up the mountain. "The Lord does provide."
"The Lord didn't provide this, Pa." Her voice was harsh with criticism. "It's charity from our neighbors."
Pa shook his head. "I know it don't sit well with you, girlie. But it don't just put food on our table. It provides a chance for those good folks to do good works."
Cracking an egg into the beans, Esme sighed in exasperation now as she did then. There was just no talking to Pa. The way she felt—the worthlessness, the shame—he felt no part of that. Maybe that was a good thing. Glancing over at the twins who were cheerfully trading tickles with Armon Hightower, she decided that it apparently didn't bother them, either.
Shuddering, she felt it again. Standing before them all in her ragged dress was as if she were naked. And Cleav… he saw her. He saw her shame. She wondered if he pitied her. A lone tear fell unheeded into the big pot of boiling beans.
A scream of laughter abruptly halted her thoughts, and she looked toward her sisters. Adelaide was actually lying back on the bench screeching with laughter as Armon leaned over ostensibly tickling her ribs. Agrippa had her arms around the young man's chest and had pressed herself tightly against his back, pretending to be protecting her sister.
What immediately caught Esme's attention was the serious heated look in Armon Hightower's eye. The look was not playful, it was dark with passion.
Grabbing up a bucket of water, she poised it threateningly before them.
"Stop that this instant! Or I swear I'll give you something to cool you off in a hurry!"
The action froze immediately. With calm careful movements, as if not wanting to startle Esme into any drastic moves, the three disengaged themselves from their naughty little entanglement.
Esme set the water back in its place with a thud.
"Adelaide, Agrippa, you two sit on this side of the table and behave like young ladies."
The two quietly and without comment followed their younger sister's orders. Esme hurriedly turned back to the beans and gave them a quick stir to keep them from scorching before continuing her tirade. Holding the bean-splattered spoon before her like a weapon, she turned her attention to Hightower.
"Young man, I expect decent behavior in my house," she told him angrily. "If you cain't conduct yourself with propriety, you're going to find yourself real unwelcome around here." Esme's chin was raised stubbornly, and her eyes blazed with fury. Armon Hightower was five years older and twice her size, but he knew a formidable enemy when he saw one.
"I apologize, Miss Esme," he said quietly. "I guess it's this warm spring weather—it's got the sap running, I reckon."
Esme started to make a reply about not letting his sap run around here but thought the better of it.
She turned back to her beans.
"Cornbread's done," she stated with exaggerated calmness. "Best call Pa in to supper."
The meal did not set her in a better frame of mind. Armon turned his considerable charm toward her father. The bright-eyed, smiling young man had Pa laughing and grinning until Esme wanted to reach over and slap him. Armon was clearly looking to get on Yo's good side, and he was probably succeeding! Esme had little taste for her supper. How was she supposed to keep the twins respectable and safe if Pa wouldn't even scare off a no-account like Hightower?
She was more convinced than ever that her plan was the proper course of action. As long as they lived in a cave and were, as the preacher had said today, the most "bowed down" in the community, Esme knew any good-for-nothing male type with an itch in his britches was going to come looking for the twins. There must be some unwritten law that said poor women were fair game, because when fellows went looking to sow wild oats, that's exactly the girls they picked.
In a big blue house with a wraparound porch, menfolk would come courting the twins. They would woo and spark 'em on the porch swing maybe. But they wouldn't be laying 'em on the kitchen bench.
"Mr. Hightower," she said with great formality, "am I to understand that you are interested in paying call on my sisters?"
Armon glanced quickly at Yo and then the twins.
"Well, sure, Miss Esme, your sisters are a couple of mighty fine gals."
Esme's words were in as haughty a tone as she could project. "Then I'm sure Pa would agree to allow you to pay call to one of them."
"One?" Armon amazingly seemed surprised.
"We've always shared everything!" the twins protested.
"You cannot share a man." Esme was adamant.
Staring dumbfounded across the table for a moment, Armon scratched his head thoughtfully.
