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Mr. Olson grunted.
“Jim. We can’t let that poor girl go in her condition. It wouldn’t be Christian,” Mrs. Olson said quietly.
Mr. Olson sopped up his applesauce with the broken edge of a fritter and said nothing.
“I grew up on a farm. Looks like you could use some help,” Jericho said at last. “If you’d allow us time for our friend to heal, and to speak with your daughter about how to stop the King of Crows, we’d be happy to work around the farm.”
“You know how to work a thresher? A plow? Can you milk a cow?” Mr. Olson challenged.
“Yes to all three,” Jericho answered. “Do you have any hired hands?”
“Used to,” Mr. Olson said and didn’t comment further.
“They left ’cause they were scared of me,” Sarah Beth blurted.
Mrs. Olson put down her fork. “Now, Sarah Beth, that isn’t true, dear.”
“Yes, it is,” Sarah Beth answered. If it was true, she didn’t seem bothered by it.
Mr. Olson chewed thoughtfully. “All right, then,” he said at last. “Anybody comes around asking, you’re just hired help. Anything happens to my Sarah Beth, though, and you’ll answer to the law. Or to me.”
“Much obliged, sir,” Bill said evenly, but Henry could feel the big man’s discomfort.
Mrs. Olson smiled with relief. “I’ll make up some beds after supper.”
“I’ll help,” Theta said.
Sarah Beth put her napkin on the table. “May Isaiah and I be excused, Mother? I want to show him the kittens.”
Mrs. Olson sighed. “You be careful under the porch. And don’t get too close to the mama. She’ll scratch.”
“We won’t. Come on, Isaiah!”
“Isaiah,” Memphis prompted.
Before Isaiah followed Sarah Beth outside, he dutifully carried his plate to the kitchen sink. “Thank you for supper, ma’am.”
“Why, you’re very welcome, Isaiah.”
The screen door creaked open and Sarah Beth’s voice drifted after her: “…the little calico is mine. She’s the prettiest one.…”
Ling tried not to stare at Sarah Beth’s plate, still on the table. “Is your daughter very ill?”
Mrs. Olson scooted food around on her plate with her fork. “She has these fits. The doctors can’t do anything for her. They say a bad one could… well, I ask the Lord to watch over her.”
“It’s because of Project Buffalo,” Ling said.
Mrs. Olson’s brow furrowed. “Project Buffalo?”
“A government experiment. We were all part of it,” Ling continued. “Did you have trouble having a baby?”
Henry spat up his milk. “You’ll have to pardon Ling, ma’am,” he said when he recovered. “She had her manners removed with her tonsils as a child.”
Ling blushed. “I’m sorry if that was rude.”
“That’s all right, dear. Just a surprise is all,” Mrs. Olson said. “I kept losing them. After the third time, Dr. McCormick came around and said he’d heard about a cure for troubles like mine. I went to Omaha, and they had me take a test.”
“Guessing at cards to see how many you got right?” Sam said, taking his place at the table. “She’s finally sleeping a little easier,” he said to the others.
