"Well," she stared in awe of it for a moment. "To tell the truth, I told everyone back home I was going to work for a big rancher, but I never
imagined anything this big. How much of the land is yours?"
"From the edge of the tree line to the east to the banks of the river on the west."
"Your joking?"
"No, why?" He turned his head to stare at her.
"No wonder your too busy to court a lady." She whispered, her glance taking in the vast amount of property.
He chuckled. "I have a lot of help now, but when I was younger it was a real challenge."
They rode for a long while before they reached a trail leading down.
"How long have you lived here?" she asked.
"I was born here. It's been Rogers land for a three generations." He told her.
He stopped and looked at her. "Maybe you should tell me a little more about yourself. People will want to know where you are from."
"I was born in New York, but we moved to St. Louis while I was still a wee one. I grew up in St. Louis." She wouldn't be telling him she grew up in the poor part of town and struggled to go to school as her parents struggled to make ends meet. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, but it wouldn't do him any good to know.
"Did you go to school there?"
"Yeah," she didn't explain any more than that.
"College?"
"No," she eyed him a moment. He had no idea how poor she really had been. "I went to work at twelve."
"Work, scrubbing floors?"
She stopped and stared down the hill, "Alright Mr. Rogers, you want to know it all. You want the truth about me. Well, I'll tell you. I'm not ashamed. I got too much pride to be ashamed. For years I scrubbed floors six days a week, for a prominent citizen of St. Louis and all his properties which were vast. I wanted to work in the kitchen, but they already had help there."
His expression changed, "I see."
That was all he said, but he was very quiet after that.
"Now that isn't something you can tell your prominent friends, is it?" she didn't mean to sound so sarcastic, after all, this man did give her a job in the kitchen. "I guess you'll just have to make something up for them, because I have nothing grand to tell you. I took this job because I needed it. I'm tired of scrubbing floors and I'm a damn good cook!"
"And you have quite a temper, too."
"Comes natural, I'm Irish."
"But a dress like you were wearing cost a lot of money, somehow this doesn't all fit." He mused.
She nodded and again hung her head; this time shame did wash over her. "You wouldn't understand, not being poor. I know."
"Well— enlighten me." He leaned over the horn of his saddle and listened.
"I spent almost every penny I had to buy that stupid dress." She looked away from him, ashamed of her behavior. "After you sent a letter saying I had the job, I wanted to make a good impression. I so needed that job. I suppose I'd planned to lie about my background. Not that I'm ashamed. I'm not, I lived with the most wonderful parents, you can't imagine. I had a happy childhood but growing up wasn't as easy. I realized the rent had to be paid, and with my father drinking so much after my Mama died, someone had to make the living. That someone was me. And glad to have a job such as scrubbing floors. But with you, I wanted to make an impression. You and your ranch became my new dream for life. Granted, I knew nothing about you except you were a rancher, in need of a cook. But because cooking for people is so much better than scrubbing floors. I figured if I was dressed nicely, you'd think better of me and keep me on."
"Well you sure as hell did that." He smiled. "You're a beautiful woman, why didn't you just marry someone."
She shook her head. "In St. Louis there are two kinds of people and they don't mix. The people there were kinder hearted than those up north, I'll admit. There are the rich, and there are the poor. And since that was the rule, you don't automatically marry a rich man, and I wouldn't marry a poor man, unless I really loved him. I had no time for love, so marriage was not doable. But to tell the truth, I had little time for frivolities. My Momma loved my Pa. She was happy, even though she scrubbed floors all her life. But I had bigger dreams. I have some very bad qualities and you might as well know them. I have a temper, and I always fight for the underdogs of the world and from time to time I cuss almost like a sailor, my father would have told you."
"Nothing wrong with fighting for something you believe in. My grandfather did a lot of fighting when he first came here. He wouldn't fight the Indians though, so he had to fight the whites. They burned him out once. He rebuilt. I guess he was kind of a stubborn man."