We pulled up to a few frame houses that were in need of paint. It looked very old, and I wondered if we were going to be living there.
"Let's get these bags and things unloaded. Eugene! You children grab whatever you can carry and help get this done," shouted Papa.
A man wearing a hat and rough looking clothes came around the corner of the house. He reached out his hand to Papa.
"You must be Mr. Browning! I'm John Westerfield! Glad to have you and your family. If you are the kind of worker your brothers are, we'll get along just fine! After you get your family settled, I'll expect to see you at the men's bunkhouse for instructions. Your wife will need to speak with my wife about her duties."
"Her duties? What do you mean? She is supposed to care for our children!"
"Didn't you understand that your family came with you to be of help on the ranch? They can be a great help in doing little jobs like helping to pick cotton. We need all hands when that ripens. Your wife will be helping to do the cooking for the ranch help. My wife is not well."
"Hmmm, I see," replied Papa. "Well, that's fair enough. You did provide our passage out here, as well as a place for us to live. It certainly won't hurt the children to do honest work and my wife is an excellent cook! It's good that we can all be together. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Westerfield! We won't let you down!"
I had been standing nearby, catching all I could of the conversation. I could hardly wait to tell the others.