Dishonoring Jack

Chapter Seven

Jack jogged to catch up with Donovan, matching his long stride with her own. "So, what brings you to Irvington, Mr. Donovan?" she asked, wondering if she could discover his purpose for coming to such a small town.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his troubled face as he looked away from her. "Just visiting some old friends. And please, don't call me mister. I hope I'm not that old yet."

Jack's face ignited with shame. "Oh, I didn't mean to imply you were old--of course you're not. And anyways, I'm quite aged myself, so I would be in no position to offer judgment."

Jack's words elicited another laugh and she touched her cheeks, wondering just how red they were. "Just call me Donovan," he said.

"Then call me Jack," she responded. "Not Miss Harrison or any of that ladylike nonsense."

"I did just see you scale a tree to fetch a one-legged chicken," he teased, the soft summer wind disturbing a loose strand of black hair from its place behind his ear. "Ladylike wasn't the first word that came to mind upon our acquaintance."

Jack laughed heartily, and the sound echoed into the Bookers' brick house, alerting them to their guest's arrival. Minnie stuck her head through the door, her dark hair in a knot on top of her head.

"It's about time you got here! Quit lollygagging outside."

Jack smiled at her friend and greeted Minnie with a warm hug around her narrow shoulders. "I'm sorry I'm late, Minnie. Martha got stuck in a tree and I had to fetch her."

Minnie clucked, motioning both Jack and Donovan in side. "You and that confounded chicken, Jack. You should have just let Julius put her down when she lost that leg."

Jack's jaw dropped, aghast. "Of course I couldn't let her die! She's one of my best layers!"

Minnie shook her head, saying nothing else. Despite Jack's tough demeanor, everyone knew of her soft heart towards creatures, especially those of the non-human variety.

"Come on in, we're having baked potatoes and asparagus for dinner," Minnie said, welcoming Jack and Donovan into their home, dimly lit with a few gas lanterns.

Their broad oak-hewn table was decorated with a handful of wildflowers and a heaping bowl of asparagus with baked potatoes. Jack's stomach grumbled at the sight of the cuisine--she had only eaten a meager breakfast of porridge and an apple plucked from her tree all day, and the fight with the delinquent goat and climb up the poplar had given her a voracious appetite.

"I see you've met our visitor?" Minnie said, eyes jumping from Jack to Donovan. There was something hidden and defensive in the look, and Jack felt curious questions aching to pester her friend.

"Indeed I have," Jack answered. "We met just a few minutes ago."

"What happened to your shirt?" Minnie asked, looking to Donovan's now stained linen shirt.

Jack and Donovan both burst out laughing at the idiocy and effectiveness of Jack's defense technique. "I had a run in with a few errant eggs."

Minnie's dark eyes widened and she spun towards Jack, her apron wishing. "Jack, you didn't!"

"I didn't know who he was!" Jack declared, trying to vindicate herself despite Donovan's withheld laughter. "For all I knew, he'd come to pillage my farm and murder me!"

"You didn't remember I told you we had a visitor?"

"He caught me halfway up a tree chasing a chicken! I didn't have time to think!" Jack protested.

Donovan's laughter broke through Minnie's interrogation of Jack, and Jack herself couldn't resist a mischievous smile. Minnie just rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air, seating herself at one end of the table.