Because Bonard had no taste or talent for farming, Rooster became in all practical ways master at Oaks. Belying his nickname, which nevertheless clung to him as such have a way of doing, although changing meaning in people’s minds, Rooster was a quiet and sober man without in any way suggesting coldness. Heavy-shouldered and deep-chested, he was always to feel a little out of place and to move a little awkwardly indoors.

He loved his land and tended it well, and he had earned the respect of everyone, including now even his brother, for Bonard was sensible enough to see that, although the elder and natural heir, he would have made a mess of the management of Oaks. He was content to leave the work and responsibility to his brother, with the understanding that when their father died, he would be provided with a fair portion of the profits of the plantation. He had at the time of his father’s stroke begun to read law under the supervision of Felix Kendrick in Highboro. He did not work very hard, and Felix was certainly no hard taskmaster; the two shared amusement in each other’s philandering and enjoyed telling tales over their cigars, each encouraging the other to exaggeration in the most amiable way. People in the county, who always had opinions on such matters, and whose opinions counted with those concerned, agreed that the Davis brothers had arranged things very well between them.

In all seasons there was a good deal of riding about and discussion among the farmers, and Rooster did his share of both. He was highly regarded by Deborah, who valued his opinions. Roscoe Elk sometimes made a third in their talk of crops and livestock. In his riding about Rooster had naturally become friendly and easy with the farmers of the two small estates that separated Beulah Land from Oaks. Both the Cokers and the Andersons had sons and daughters, and Rooster found himself eventually with warmer feelings for Gertrude Coker, called Trudy, than he entertained for any other young woman of his acquaintance.

Trudy pleased Rooster in every way. She was always cheerful and often jolly, which made him less sober with her than he was with others. Their temperaments made a good balancing seesaw. And she was a true farm girl. Casual but not careless in her dress, she forgot to wear a sunbonnet most of the time, or discarded it; her arms were frequently bare, dress sleeves rolled above the elbows. The summer sun made her arms as tan as Rooster’s, and sprinkled her face with freckles, and bleached her brown hair with streaks the color of straw.