She woke again, around the usual time, to realize that although the lightning and thunder had subsided somewhat, the rain certainly had not. It was still drumming on the roof overhead, which suggested that this storm was going to last the day.

So we ain’t going out today, she thought with a moment of pleasure, which vanished when she realized that she had a lot of reasons to want to go out now.

She bit her lip in dismay. Would Aunt Jinny allow her to make the trek down to the Holcrofts’ farm and back in a storm?

She heard her aunt moving around downstairs, and hurried down the ladder to make her case. She turned to face her aunt, who was just setting the table, and opened her mouth only to have her aunt give her a gimlet stare.

“No,” Jinny said flatly. “I know what y’all’s thankin’. Not terday. I ain’t a-gonna let y’all git lightnin’-struck, nor soaked an’ chilled an’ git sick, nor take a slip an’ mebbe sprain or break somethin’. Th’ boy’ll be there termorrer, an’ th’ day arter thet, an’ th’ day arter thet.”

She almost started to argue, when Jinny put the cap on it. “Y’all needs ter show Matt and Maddie that y’all’s responsible afore they’re gonna let their boy come a-courtin’. Y’all thank it’s gonna look responsible t’show up on their doorstep soaked through an’ needin’ t’ git put up by th’ fire an’ fussed over? They’d be a-wastin’ their time, all ’cause y’all couldn’t wait a day. Thank it’s responsible t’ go courtin’ a fever? Y’all might thank it’s romantical thet y’all ain’t gonna let a little thang like gittin’ sick keep y’all apart, but know what Matt an’ Maddie are gonna thank? Once the fuss is over, they’re gonna thank how y’all put ’em out, confusticated their day, an’ caused a ruckus.” Her stern gaze grew even sterner. “They’ll be a-wonderin’ what kinda gal is gonna leave me all alone up here when lightnin’ could hit th’ house, or the pigs or hens could git loose, or th’ roof could spring a leak. What d’y’all thank they’ll be thankin’, thet y’all cain’t bear t’ be away one damn day when wimmin ’round these parts sent their men off ’n niver saw ’em fer years t’fight the war not thet long ago?”

She shut her mouth. Because, of course, Aunt Jinny was right. She hated it, but Aunt Jinny was right. She wouldn’t look like someone who could be trusted with a household. She wouldn’t look like someone who could be trusted in a crisis.

In fact, she’d look like her Ma, and her Ma’s Ma, at least if Aunt Jinny was to be believed. A flibbertigibbet. A girl with more hair than sense. Too lovestruck to think straight. Not to be trusted to act sensible any time her man was concerned.

Someone who needed to be taken care of. Not someone who could take care of others.

So instead of objecting, she heaved a long, tragic sigh. Aunt Jinny snorted. “Y’all oughter be a actress in a mellerdrama. Come stir th’ mush,” she ordered, and gestured at the pot on the hearth. “It’ll be ready ina minnut. I’m already dressed, so I’m a-gonna run out t’ th’ hens and pigs, an’ let y’all stay dry fer once.”