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mind these younguns of mine," Onery continued. "Jesse just says whatever comes to his fool head and Meggie's a dreamy sort and a bit sensitive about her cooking."
     
    "Pa!" Meggie protested.
    "Meggie, show some manners with our guest. And get some victuals on the table 'fore I faint to the floor with hunger. Jesse, take your seat there by your new friend."
    Onery chuckled at Meggie's dismay and smiled companionably at Roe. "We're always glad to have company down our way. And my Meggie ain't had a gentleman caller in a month of Sundays."
    Meggie slammed the cornbread skillet on the table with a loud thump. "He's not
calling
on me."
    Roe found himself amused with the exasperation in her voice. The joke was a good one, but he wanted to make sure the old man didn't get to thinking that perhaps there was some truth to it. "Did Jesse or Meggie tell you about my mission?"
    "Mission? Nope, neither of these children said one word. You a preachin' man, Roe?"
    "It's not that kind of mission," Meggie snapped. She slapped a huge hunk of cornbread on the table in front of the men's plates. Roe reached for his and flinched when his blistered hand tore a piece off the hot loaf.
    "What's ailing you?" Onery reached over and grasped the young man's hand. Pulling off the bandage, he gazed with worry at the raw, red blisters he found on the palm.
    "Lord, boy, you sure got your hands in a mess. What'd you do, slip a rope?"
    Roe looked down at his hands. The pain in his stomach had temporarily made him forget their sting.
    "It's nothing," he answered.
    "Meggie made him split cordwood for his meal," Jesse said.
    "What?" Best's eyes widened in disbelief.
    'Tattletale!" Meggie snapped, glaring at her brother, a hot flush of color rising in her cheekbones. "And I didn't make him. He said he would."
    Best glared at his daughter. "Mr. Farley, I don't know what to say. This is not the way that mountain folk treat visitors."
    "Remember, my name's Roe, and please, don't give these blisters another thought," Roe insisted. "It's as your daughter says, I wanted to do something to help. Unfortunately, I'm not accustomed to chopping wood. I'm sure they'll be healed very soon. And Miss Best has already put some salve on them."
    'That's what they was doing when Roe kissed her," Jesse volunteered with some pride in his understanding of the situation.
    "I swear, Mr. Best, I wasn't trying—"
    "Onery, boy, call me Onery." Best continued to eye his daughter with disappointment as she set the rest of the food on the table and took her place across from Roe.
    "You're a city man, a one-eyed dog could see that a mile away," he said. "You'll toughen up a bit in time and your hands'll be all the better for the blisters on 'em now."
    Turning to Meggie, the old man shook his head. "Now you, little gal, you shouldn't put your new beau to work. It'll turn a feller off you quicker than milk'll sour."
    "He's not my—" she began uselessly. Her father loved to tease.
    "I'm proud Meggie's done put salve on your blisters, Roe," Onery continued. "She's right good at nursing and that's a fact."
    Meggie flushed slightly at the unexpected praise.
    "Still," the old man continued. "This family owes you an apology and I'll be giving it to you now."
    Roe shrugged and glanced down at this hands with unconcern. "Apology accepted. Believe me there is no harm done."
    "There certainly is harm done and this family is obliged to make it up to you."
    Onery was looking directly and sternly at Meggie,implying that it was she who ought to be doing the
making up
.
    Less than enthusiastically, Meggie reached across the table and took Roe's hand in her own.
    Roe felt her tremble slightly at the touch. A strange fluttery feeling expanded in his abdomen. He tried to attribute it to the bad piccalilli, but it was the taste of her lips that he recalled.
    'The salve's purt-near healed him up already," she said. "It ain't our fault that the man ain't
accustomed to working."
    "It's 'cause he's a
scholar
,