“They were here until just a little while ago. They went home to get some rest. Do you want me to call them?” Sloan took his phone from his pocket.

“Lord, no!” Betsy moaned. “They need their rest. Oh. My. Goodness.” She gasped. “Neither of them can cook. They’ll burn down my kitchen if they try.”

“Don’t you worry.” Sloan got up and stood beside the bed. “I’ll go get them in the morning and take them out to breakfast before I bring them to see you.”

“And I’ll cook when we get home,” Ginger said.

“I’m only half a mile down the road, and I can be there in two minutes anytime you need me,” Sloan offered.

Home had been many different places to Ginger—last count maybe as many as twenty—but the word had never really felt right coming out of her mouth until that moment. Maybe going to California wasn’t such a big deal after all. She felt like she was needed right there in Medina County, Texas, and it was pretty nice to have that kind of feeling.

She glanced at Sloan, who smiled at her and nodded. The warm feeling that wrapped itself around her heart was far more than friendship. Who would have thought she’d find family and possibly love right here in Rooster?

Chapter Fourteen

Betsy awoke with a headache the next morning, but other than that she seemed to be feeling okay and thinking clearly. When Ginger questioned her, she even remembered the fight with Edith. Ginger started to ask her what she meant when she said she’d lost her once and didn’t want to lose her again, but on second thought, she decided it would be better to wait until they were alone in the kitchen together.

Just as Ginger had said, when Connie and Kate arrived that morning, the three of them were still talking about the confrontation with Edith—only this time in even more detail. Getting all the spotty parts of Betsy’s memory filled in took almost an hour, and then they moved on to the subject of how they’d manage the next few weeks.

“There’s nothin’ sayin’ that I can’t sit in the kitchen and supervise Ginger. She’s picked up a lot this past week, and she’s already better at cookin’ than either one of y’all,” Betsy said.

“What about your jam business?” Sloan got up from a chair and stretched. “I’ve helped you with that so much, I could probably take care of it with a little help from Ginger.”

Ginger could only imagine how many kinks he might have in his back and neck after sleeping on the other chair all night. Her body ached in places she hadn’t even been aware that she had.

“It will be put on hold. Cooking is enough for Ginger in her condition, and you’ve got other things to do. There’s a supply built up already down in the basement,” Betsy said.

Ginger was elated that Betsy could make decisions and remember what had happened. She’d seen a few folks that were younger than Betsy who hadn’t popped back as fast.

“Thank you,” Connie and Kate said at the same time.

Dr. Emerson poked his head in the room in the middle of the morning and said, “I hear you had quite a dustup yesterday. Did you know that Edith has filed a restraining order against you? The sheriff’s deputy will probably bring it to you when you go home later today.”

“Well, if that ain’t good news,” Betsy said. “Now she’ll stay away from the Banty House, and, Doc, that was just round one. When the fight’s over, I’ll bet you a pint of Kate’s apple pie and a nickel bag of my best product I’ll be the winner.”

“I wouldn’t bet against you for anything,” Doc said with a laugh and came on into the room. “I looked at your X-rays and everything looks good. I will want to see you in my office in a week to check on your arm and leg. Stay off the leg and keep it propped. Don’t try to lift anything with the arm. I’ll probably take the stitches out of your head when I see you again.”

“That mean I can go home?” Betsy asked.

“After two o’clock,” Doc said. “I want you to be here a full twenty-four hours.”

“You just want to charge me for another day in this bed,” Betsy accused him.

He threw up his hands. “Busted! See you in a week, but I’ll see you on Thursday.” He pointed at Ginger. “Why don’t you bring old cranky pants here with you, and I’ll change that bandage then?”

“We’ll be there.” Ginger smiled. “But after calling her that, I’d run real fast if I was you.”

“Good advice.” Doc started toward the door and then turned around to say, “I’ll let the nurse know to discharge you after two o’clock.”

He stopped at the door and winked at Ginger. “I was so worried about her when she got here. I’ve treated all of the sisters for years. They remind me of my old aunts, who I don’t get to see very often but who would probably take a switch to me for talking about them like this to strangers.” He waved and left the room.

“If he’d been here last night, he would’ve let me go home,” Betsy complained.

“Then thank God he wasn’t,” Kate argued, “because me and Connie wouldn’t have slept a wink for worrying about you.”

Connie put in her two cents. “You caused us to miss our Sunday-afternoon nap, and now I’m a day behind with my cleaning.”

“I didn’t cause jack crap.” Betsy glared at her sister through the rails on the side of the hospital bed. “Blame Edith, not me. If she’d kept her skinny butt at home where she belonged, then I wouldn’t be here.”

Kate flashed a grin, deepening the crow’s-feet around her eyes. “Oh, but if she hadn’t brought those old love letters, we wouldn’t know her secret, now, would we? I just wonder what our own Preacher James would think if he found out his biological father wasn’t Max Wilson.”

Connie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You know very well that we’ll never tell him or anyone else. Mama didn’t believe in spreading gossip.”

Betsy held up a finger to get their attention. “But Edith doesn’t know that, does she?”

“You got that right, Sister.” Kate nodded.

“She won’t be coming to your house anymore, sure, but y’all do realize that if she really did file a restraining order against you, then you can’t be in the any of the same buildings with her,” Sloan said. “How’s that going to affect you going to church on Sunday?”

Kate gasped. “Well, I’ll be damned. She filed that so we wouldn’t be around James. She thinks we’re as petty as she is when it comes to rumors. Now what are we goin’ to do about church? I promised Mama that we’d always go on Sunday morning.”

Ginger stood to her feet and wiggled her head from side to side to get the stiffness from her neck. “When I decided to go to church, I didn’t go to just one—churches are pretty much all alike anyway but for the singin’, Kate. Next Sunday, let’s just get in the car and pick out one here in Hondo. We passed at least a dozen coming to the hospital. That way, you won’t break your promise to your mama.”

“Or get thrown in jail for violating a restraining order,” Sloan told her.

“You really are an angel,” Betsy whispered. “God sent you to us for sure, and she’s right, Kate. We can drive into town and pick out a different one every week.”

Connie chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Ginger asked.

“Number one.” Connie held up a finger. “We’ll never be able to agree on which one, so we better all decide right now that we take turns on choosing. Number two”—another finger shot up—“do you think for one minute that James is going to let us take the money we put in the offering plate on Sunday elsewhere? He’ll be around to the Banty House to talk to us if we stop giving our dues. Y’all do know that what we give the church at the end of each year pays his salary and what we donate on Sunday keeps the electricity bill paid.”

Sloan started to say something, but he changed his mind and walked over to the doorway. His grandmother had been a big contributor to the church when she was alive, and Preacher James had come to talk to him when he stopped attending services. He remembered the day well. The preacher had told him he shouldn’t blame himself for what had happened. Sloan had listened to him talk for a while, and then he’d simply walked out of the house. Rude or not, he couldn’t listen to the man trying to talk him back into church—not when the hurt was still so raw.

“Do we go from oldest to youngest like we always have?” Kate was saying.

“For what?” Ginger asked.

“For choosing a church house each Sunday morning,” Kate explained.

“Since it’s Ginger’s idea, I vote that we reverse the order. She chooses the first week and then we go from the youngest of us to the oldest,” Betsy said.

Sloan didn’t care where they went to church or even if they went. He could be close to God sitting on his front porch with Tinker.

“I agree.” Connie covered a yawn with her hand. “I need caffeine. I’m going out to find a coffee machine. Anyone else want a cup?”