She got up and dusted herself off, as she walked around the area. The men were busy roping, then bringing the calves to the fire. The dust was flying but there was a lot of goings on. All the men knew their job and didn't need much ramrodding. Some gathered wood for the fire.
She watched and the smell of it like to have gagged her, but she did her best not to frown.
Lance handed her the branding iron, "Try it." He offered. The boys all gathered around to watch with smiles on their faces.
She did like they all had, and the brand came out nicely, she laughed. "I did it!" She almost jumped up.
"You sure did." Lance chuckled. "We might make a cowboy out of you yet."
"I better get back, I gotta to shell some peas for supper." She told them all. She'd already shelled the peas, but she couldn't hang around the men and him all day. That was not her job and certainly not proper.
She knew Lance was disappointed in Priscilla and she feared he might write and tell her not to come. But where would that leave her?
They should get an annulment, but why that thought bothered her she wasn't sure. Or was she?
All the boys waved and thanked her for the food.
Lance stared after her for a long while.
***
George came up to him. "Boss, I don't know how to tell you this, but well, did you notice her dress?"
Lance frowned, "I guess I didn't pay much attention to it. It doesn't matter what she wears, she looks good, doesn't she? What's your point?"
George stared at him a minute as though he should know what he was aiming at. "Well I might be out of line saying this, but that dress she had on today is the kind poor women wear to scrub floors in. And, she wore it last night to supper. Now, maybe it's just soft and comfortable on her, but I got a feeling—"
"Well, go on, speak you mind. You always do." Lance told him with a frown.
"You said she scrubbed floors for a living. You said she was poor. Lance, the girl don't have no clothes. That dress she has on is plain and simple, worn by a lot of women I've seen up north, women that worked for a living. I doubt she's got more than two dresses to her name. And she's your wife, you gonna let her dress poorly all the time? People will talk you know."
"My God, George!" he studied on what he was saying, and it hit him. "I hadn't even thought about it. Her valise was pretty light come to think of it. Good gosh, she had that riding outfit, the fancy dress she got off the train in, and this one. I guess because she's so beautiful, I didn't look at her dress. But you are right."
"She ain't like a lot of the ladies you know, Lance. It's not something others will overlook. She wasn't lying when she said she was poor. Kind of funny when you think about it."
"What?"
"Well, some girls have beautiful dresses and fancy hair dos and men come calling for them all the time, and they have teas. This girl, she's worked hard, Lance. She isn't used to having much at all, and yet, she seems— happy. I guess that's the word I'm looking for. Kind of hard to figure, isn't it?" George scratched his chin.
"You're right, she does. The dress she wore on the train and to get married in, she must have paid everything she had to get it. She had two reasons for buying it, she fell in love with it, and she wanted to impress me. Which, by golly, she did."
"Just try to be tactful when you offer to buy her some clothes."
"Yeah, I gotta figure how to talk about something like that. I'm glad you pointed it out. I just wasn't thinking straight, I guess. But I’m not well versed in women's conversations."
"She's kind of a new experience for all of us boss. She's beautiful, humble, and hardworking, and the best damn cook you ever hired."
Lance chuckled. "I guess I ought to tell you, I heard from Priscilla, a telegram came, and Trudy brought it out to me."
"Oh, well, was it good news or bad?"
Lance frowned, "I'm not sure. All she said was that her mother was still sick, and she didn't know when she's coming."
"The sooner you make up your mind, the better." George advised.
Lance sighed heavily. "It's not so much making up my mind, it's knowing how to tell her."
"Which one?"