He broke off embarrassed. "Did I wake you-all, ma'am, with my fool singin'? I'm right sorry if I did."
"You didn't." Kitty, clinging shyly to the side of the doorway, tried to gain confidence from his unease. "I was already awake. Is it a range song you were singing?"
"Yes'm. Cattle range, not kitchen range."
A wan little smile greeted his joke. The effect on Johnnie himself was more pronounced. It gave him confidence in his ability to meet the situation. He had not known before that he was a wit and the discovery of it tickled his self-esteem.
"'Course we didn't really clean up no Indians nor drink all the alkali. Tha's jes' in the song, as you might say." He began to bustle about in preparation for her breakfast.
"Please don't trouble. I'll eat what you've got cooked," she begged.
"It's no trouble, ma'am. If the's a thing on earth I enjoy doin' it's sure cookin'. Do you like yore aigs sunny side up or turned?"
"Either way. Whichever you like, Mr. Green."
"You're eatin' them," Johnnie reminded her with a grin.
"On one side, then, please. Mr. Lindsay says you're a fine cook."