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was a cloud of dust, which meant someone was coming her way. The sun was hovering just above the horizon. She had slept all day . There wasn’t a speck of dust on the horizon in any direction, which meant there was no one around. If she wanted a chicken for dinner, she’d have to kill it herself.
    Eliza got up and put on the gown she’d worn last night, the front of the skirt gaped open—no one was around so it didn’t matter that she was indecent. Before he left Daniel had said he’d buy her a whole bunch of new ones. Enough thinking about that. She had one other gown and she was saving that to wear tonight. She got the ax and went determinedly out to the chicken coop.
    Eliza entered the wire enclosure and was greeted by some very excited hens. She’d forgotten all about feeding them last night. She reached out for one, and it flew into the air squawking and flapping its wings. Tried for another. Same thing. Soon the coop was a mass of squawking, flapping creatures, feathers flying, claws scratching, beaks pecking furiously. She tried to protect her eyes with one hand and grab a neck with the other and got pecked repeatedly on her arm. And on her fingers. A claw tore at her thigh, and then a vicious peck on the other. This was not a good idea with her skirt like this and her legs exposed. In fact, this was not a good idea at all. Holding her hands in front of her face she backed out of the coop.
    Nasty, ungrateful wretches , she thought as she washed the blood off at the well. I’d enjoy chopping off your heads—all your heads. But she wasn’t about to go into that coop again tonight. What was she going to serve for dinner if she couldn’t cook a chicken?
    Well, she’d just have to pretend that green beans, two little not-quite-ripe tomatoes and a couple of even smaller biscuits with no gravy were a fine supper. She was so hungry that she salivated at the thought of them, but she’d pretend she wasn’t and he could have them both. She thought lovingly of Mrs. Timmons’ chicken at the picnic the night before. She’d eaten her fill and more, but there’d actually been one roll left.
    “Why didn’t I take that roll with me? I could be eating it right now.” She sighed. Truth is I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could think about was that man and how I wanted to see him again. Soon.
    Well, she had time to bathe and wash her hair and put on the good gown. Maybe I’ll leave the top button undone. Maybe the top two? She’d noticed that Miss Susan over at the saloon often had a few buttons undone. Miss Susan’s dresses didn’t go up as high on the neck as her own did. She’d have to leave quite a few open to reveal as much of her chest as Miss Susan did. She didn’t want to appear excessively bold. Or maybe she did.
    * * * * *
     
    A few hours later, a huge pile of green beans and the biscuits were warming in the oven. The aroma of the biscuits was driving her to distraction. Even thinking about Daniel taking her in his arms, kissing and caressing her, didn’t interfere with her desire to open the oven, pull out those two plain, pitifully small biscuits, even though they weren’t fully baked, and devour them. The two unripe tomatoes lying on the table ready to decorate the top of the pile of beans looked appealing as well.
    “Stop it!” she commanded herself and tied her clean hair back with a strip of fabric cut from a rag. They’d decided on nine thirty for dinner. But where was he? It was a going to be ten o’clock soon.
    She had left the top two buttons of her gown undone. Then she’d done them up again.
    “Don’t want to appear too forward,” she’d said to herself. “Don’t want to seem too anxious to do what we did last night.” But then, deciding she did absolutely want to repeat last night, she’d opened them up again. First the two and then another and then the fourth, opening the gown within an inch of the top of her breasts.
    She thought she heard the lowing of cattle, but that