Page 55 of Second Start: Family
“Haven’t you ever smelled perfume before?” Dan asked with disdain.
“Sure we have,” Molly jumped in. “Miss Kenzie wears perfume, but it smells nice, not like she did. Made me want to sneeze.”
“Not precisely perfume,” Lizzie clarified. “Miss Kenzie said it’s soap with perfume in it.”
Using that as a springboard, Hall declared it was bath time for the three youngest.
That distracted them all from their aunt’s visit.
Dan didn’t say a word until his bedtime, when he was on the second step up, he threw some over his shoulder.
“I didn’t ask her to come.” Dan’s put-upon tone said he’d been unjustly accused, when Hall hadn’t said a word.
“Did you contact her? Ask about staying with her in Cheyenne to take the scholarship?”
“Why shouldn’t I contact my aunt?”
Why shouldn’t I?
Like Naomi’s response about Dan going to Cheyenne. A self-justification, not a straightforward answer.
Dan added, “I should know her better —weshould. All of us. If you’re going to forbid me to be in contact with Mom’s sister—”
“I’m not. Go to bed, Dan.”
The boy hesitated.
If Dan asked a question. Or opened the door a little…
He turned and pounded up the stairs.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hall wasn’t sure how he’d been talked into driving his kids all the way to Bardville, cutting short a good-weather work day to put up signs — his kids and Kenzie. But here they all were, working their way down Big Horn Avenue, following Bexley’s instructions.
The girls dashed into shops to ask if they could post their flyer, followed by Dan with dragging steps, but not too many words of protest. He and Kenzie and Bobby stayed outside.
Kenzie showed a lot of interest in the town, peering around and asking questions like it was a national park or something.
He answered the questions he could, but he hadn’t spent much time here.
“…and there’s a sign for a plant nursery,” Kenzie said.
“We used to get plants at the feed store in the spring,” Lizzie said. “But we didn’t get any this year.”
Hall stifled a wince, remembering the flowers out front and vegetables out back Annie used to plant. Lizzie was right. There’d been none this past summer.
“What kind of flowers do you like, Miss Kenzie?” Lizzie asked.
She chuckled. “I like the kind you don’t have to plant each year. They’re called perennials. Things like roses. You plant them once and they come back every year, as long as you take care of them. Or flowers that self-seed like black-eyed Susans or sunflowers. So they come up each year on their own.”
That sounded practical.
Maybe next year, if he got a good enough price for the cattle he intended to sell soon, he could hire some help, have a bit more time … But not if it meant selling more head than he planned. Building the herd came before any help for him. Or flowers and vegetable gardens.
“And sometimes,” Kenzie continued, “the patch grows big enough you can spread them out by transplanting, so you have more and more flowers.”
She stopped and pointed to the sign for the next store. “Oh, look, this is Jenna’s shop, Nearly Everything. She helped with winterizing the schoolhouse. I know she’ll let you put your signs up here.”
