"Whew!" Jeremy flopped onto the window seat to pull his boots off. He straightened his legs out, leaned forward, and pulled on his toes.

"Tired?" Jason asked. "You worked hard today." He was building a fire.

Jeremy grinned. "Yeah, I did!" He wiggled his (stockinged) toes.

Jason smiled. One thing about Jeremy, he didn't do anything halfway. He had worked hard today, and hadn't got too far behind at any one time. "Are your feet hurting? Is that why you're limping?" He started a fire in the stove, too.

"J-just my t-toes. M-my b-boots are trying to p-push them b-back in."

"Why do you suppose that is?" Jason picked up one of the boots and looked it over.

Jeremy shrugged. "M-my t-toes are stretching out too much?"

Jason laughed. "How about growing? Is it at all possible your feet are growing?" Jason caught Jeremy's foot in one hand and held the boot up to it. "Are you ever going to learn to tell me when you're outgrowing your garments?"

"D-don' us'lly have to t-tell ya."

"Yes, well, I can see when your shirts get too tight and your pants get too short. Can't see inside your footwear. Are your shoes getting tight, too?"

Jeremy thought about it and shook his head.

"Alright. We'll look into this over the weekend. Tomorrow you can rummage through the storehouse and see if you can find anything that will be more comfortable for working in the meantime. Okay?"

"Uh-huh." Jeremy hopped to his feet, winced, and started making coffee.

Josh came in, carrying a steaming pot in both hands and a bundle wrapped in a bandanna tucked under his elbow. "Lottie said when no one came in by 7, she figured she'd better hold some back for us. The men are eating now."

"Not here. G-good." Jeremy took the bundle from him and opened it, and put the bread on a platter.

"Yeah, they've all got someplace to go." Josh set the pot on the stove. "The coffee isn't ready yet? If I'd known that, I'd've brought some with me."

"How?" Jeremy asked.

"Shuddup with your questions, you, and get the ladle and some bowls."

"I've got them," Jason said.

Jeremy put water on the stove to heat for dishes afterward.

"Moving slow, boy," Josh observed. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"His toes hurt," Jason explained blandly.

"All the way up to his ribs, would be my guess. You want a rubdown before bed?"

Jeremy shook his head and said, "Maybe."

Jeremy did consent to the smelly rubdown, but not until after he took care of the dishes. His muscles had stiffened up while he was sitting still and eating, but he said nothing about it. But it was his turn to do this chore, and if he could do a man's work, he could certainly finish the night with something he'd been doing since he was a child. (It did hurt a bit to stand or step in reach certain ways, which made him wince silently, but he could stand it.)

Jason and Josh talked at the table while he worked. They were watching him off and on while they talked – they asked him if he was alright when he wiped off the table – and he heard them say his name (or 'he') a few times, but he just kept on working.

When he was done with chores he washed himself up for the night. That might have been harder than doing the dishes had been. But he did it, and when he was finished he got the liniment from the shelf and brought it to Jason.

"That bad, huh?" was Jason's only comment, leading Jeremy to his bed, and Jeremy didn't disagree.

He couldn't really. It was bad. And if his brothers wanted to think it was from working (Josh was making jokes about him being a weakling and getting soft after a few days off – he was teasing–.) They could think whatever they wanted. He wasn't going to tell them anything different.

The liniment didn't smell so bad after a few minutes, and it and Jason's hands spreading it were both warm and soothing. He was almost asleep when Jason stopped and pulled the bedcovers out from under him and put them over him. ""Th-thanks," he murmured without moving.

He didn't go to sleep right away. He had a lot to think about.

He shouldn't have gotten mad at Josh last night.

There really wasn't anything wrong with talking about when theft came to town. That was just a fact. It had happened. And everything else that happened came from that.

Before they'd moved into town, he'd been able to talk right.

Before they'd moved into town, Da hadn't been mean unless they were being bad.

Before they'd moved into town, Da didn't sit around and do nothing some days, and cry some days, and he hardly ever drank so much that he yelled at things and hit people for no reason.

Before they had moved to town, they were allowed to talk about Mama.

Before they had moved to town, he only hid under his bed when other people came.

But none of that was Josh's fault.

Josh liked being in town.

And going to school, and running and playing with other boys who weren't his brothers. (Why?)

So he probably shouldn't've been mad at Josh for talking about it.

He really shouldn't have tried to kick him in the behind right through his bed and all. That was what hurt his legs and back, but it hadn't been bad when he first got up.

At least he didn't think so. He'd been more worried about either of them, but especially Jason, knowing what he'd done. You shouldn't hit a guy if he was asleep or didn't know why. That went double for a brother you lived with.

He wondered if he could explain it to Jason.

"Think we should take it easy on him tomorrow?" Josh asked, getting into his bed.

"Depends on how he's moving in the morning. He'll never get used to the work if he doesn't keep at it. But we don't want to overdo it either. We'll have to play it by ear."

"At least that's a whatchacallit I understand."

Jason laughed quietly. "Metaphor, Josh." He turned out the lamp and went to his bed.

Jeremy sighed contentedly and rolled onto his side. He didn't know why Jason was always the one who turned out the light, but it always ended the day perfectly.

Today had been a perfect day, too. Not perfectly perfect, but the ending of it was.