Ralph Compton the Law and the Lawless by Ralph Compton

Author:Ralph Compton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Cecelia made beef stew for supper. Her brother was fond of soups and stews of all kinds, and had been since he was a boy. She humored his craving by making it a point to prepare some sort of soup at least once a week.

This particular evening, Sam got in from the fields late. He’d been hard at work all day preparing a new section for plowing. It involved clearing trees and removing more than a few large boulders and a lot of smaller ones that might damage the plow.

“I’m hungry enough to eat one of our cows,” Sam announced as he came in the back door. He’d washed up at the pump and his face and hands were clean, if not his clothes.

Cecelia had his silverware and bowl waiting on the table, and ladled the stew. She didn’t mind waiting on him when he toiled so hard each day for their mutual benefit. He handled almost all the field and barn work, and she handled the house and the vegetable garden.

“No Boyd tonight?” Sam teased.

“He was out early today but had to go back,” Cecelia said. “That outlaw business.”

“Mad Dog Hanks,” Sam said. “The judge will do a service to the town and the territory when he sentences Hanks to hang.”

“The man hasn’t put been on trial yet.”

“He will, and that will be the end of him. Or should be,” Sam said, “if the judge doesn’t go easy.”

Cecelia decided not to pursue the topic. Sam was quite set in his ways when it came to the legal system. He often complained that judges mollycoddled criminals too much. “Eat your stew,” she said, setting his bowl in front of him.

Sam didn’t need urging. When it came to meals, he jumped in like a starved bear and ate as if it were his last meal on earth. When he was eating soup, he slurped now and then, much to her annoyance. Just now, smearing butter on a piece of bread, he licked his lips and said, “Smells delicious. You’re about the best cook who ever lived, except for Ma.”

Cecelia moved to the other end of the table and sat. Placing the napkin in her lap, she spread it out. “Your flattery is appreciated, kind sir.”

Chuckling, Sam was about to spoon stew into his mouth, and froze. “I just had a thought.”

“Oh no,” Cecelia said.

“I’m serious.” Sam lowered the spoon. “What happens to me if Boyd and you get hitched?”

“Pshaw. You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Cecelia said. “We’ve barely begun our courtship.”

“You’ve been at it long enough to spend a lot of time on the porch swing at night.”

“That’s hardly your concern,” Cecelia said archly.

“My stomach is.”

About to dip her own spoon, Cecelia paused. “How’s that again?”

“My stomach,” Sam repeated. “Who’s going to feed me if you marry Boyd Cooper and move out?”

“First off,” Cecelia said, “you’re old enough to feed yourself. Second thing, who says I will? Maybe Boyd wouldn’t mind moving in here.”

“No married man in his right mind wants to live with his brother-in-law.

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