Kennedy piped in with, “From your bounty, we are nourished. Thank you, Lord.”

The two new hires mumbled something Erin couldn’t catch, and then it was her turn. She hadn’t been raised saying a meal blessing and drew a complete blank. She came up with, “Thank you, Lord, for good company and plenty of food for each of us.” In actuality, she wanted to pray that the next supper might include a salad and broccoli. If she had to eat this way for any period of time, she’d get as big as a barn.

“Amen,” all the men chorused, and then Tex said, “Three beans fer four of us. Thank God there ain’t no more of us. Lay back yer ears and dig in.”

And to Erin’s amazement, that’s exactly what they did. The huge pot was nearly empty before she could blink. By the time she got ahold of the metal spoon handle to serve herself a portion, the men were already shoveling food into their mouths. She deposited a tidy mound of hamburger gravy on her plate and reached for a biscuit, which she planned to eat separately.

Tex relieved her of that notion. “That ain’t how you eat shit on shingles. First you butter your biscuit. Then you pile the gravy on top.”

Erin froze with a forkful of meat halfway to her mouth. Wyatt spoke up and said, “Tex, let Erin eat her food however she likes. It’s none of your concern.”

“But it don’t taste as good thataway!” Tex objected.

Erin cleared her throat. “I’m not big on butter, Tex.”

“You ain’t?”

“No, I’m not. It’s fattening, and too much of it is bad for the heart.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Tex looked mystified. “I’m skinny as a fence rail, and I been eatin’ near on a cube a day most of my life. And so far as I know, my ticker must be well greased, cuz it keeps on goin’, kind of like that rabbit in them TV commercials.”

Erin took a bite of meat gravy, which was surprisingly good. As she chewed, she realized all five men were staring at her, and she wondered if she had gravy on her chin. There were no napkins on the table. Kennedy said, “We’re still hungry. We’re just wondering if you’d like more. You haven’t taken your share yet.”

“Oh!” Erin swallowed. “Please, help yourselves. This will be plenty for me.”

Wyatt stood up, grabbed the pot, and began slopping equal measures of gravy on every man’s second helping of already-buttered biscuits, including his own. Then he sat down and began eating again. Erin decided Wyatt was like a father figure who rode herd over a bunch of ill-mannered kids.

The other men carried on an animated conversation about their days, mentioning things that baffled her. What did it mean when a certain horse had a hitch in its get-along? That it was lame, possibly? Then Wyatt filled everyone in on the leaking water main; leveled an uncompromising stare at Wade and Richard, the newbies; and told them the next time they ignored soggy ground, they’d be collecting their last paychecks.