The silence stretched out between them, filled only with the hiss of the dying fire and the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. How long? She finally asked. What? How long would I have to work there?
She could hear the relief in his exhale. Contract's for 6 months. Room and board included plus wages. You send the money back, we pay off the debts and maybe maybe we can figure out how to make this place work again. Evelyn closed her eyes.
6 months. Half a year of her life gone to some remote ranch in the middle of nowhere cooking for rough men who probably wouldn't even appreciate it. But what choice did she have? Watch Thomas drink himself to death while they lost everything their parents had worked for? End up on the street with nothing?
When do they want me? Monday. Day after tomorrow. Of course. No time to think, no time to prepare, just pack up and go.
Fine. The word tasted like ash. But I want it in writing. Every penny of what I earn goes to the debts first. And if anything happens to me out there?
Nothing's going to happen to you. It's just cooking. She finally turned to look at him, really look at him. Thomas was 23, 2 years younger than her, but he looked 40. His hands shook from too much whiskey and not enough food.
His eyes were bloodshot, his face gaunt. When had he gotten so old? You need to stop drinking, she said quietly. I'll stop when we're not about to lose everything. You'll be dead before then.
He flinched like she'd hit him, but didn't argue. They both knew she was right. Red Hollow on a Saturday afternoon was a study in judgment disguised as civilization. Evelyn walked down the main street with her head up and her eyes forward, very aware of the whispers that followed her like flies on meat. That's the Harper girl.
Heard her brother's sending her away to work. Probably for the best. Nothing left for her here anyway. She'd lived in this town her entire life. She'd gone to the schoolhouse with most of these people's children, had helped their mothers during harvest season, had brought food to their families when someone was sick.
None of that mattered now. Poverty was contagious in places like Red Hollow, and the Harpers had caught it bad. The general store was her first stop. She needed supplies for the trip, practical things she could afford with the few coins she had left. The bell above the door jingled as she entered, and Mrs. Brennan behind the counter looked up with an expression that could have curdled milk.
Miss Harper. Mrs. Brennan. Evelyn kept her voice polite, neutral. I need to buy some things. I heard you're leaving town.
The older woman's tone made it clear what she thought of that. Going to work at Thornridge Ranch. News traveled fast. That's right. You know what kind of place that is?