Read Online Summer Lightning by Cynthia Bailey Pratt - Free Book Online

What’s the matter with ‘em? Well, I’ll tell you. I respect old age too much to want to eat it for lunch. And this young lady was looking forward to something a sight tastier than this old boot.”
    The waiter blustered a little and then said, “I’ll get Mr. Waters for you, sir.”
    “Good, you do that.”
    Edith whispered, “It’s all right, Mr. Dane. I don’t mind. There’s no need to make a fuss.”
    “Never you mind, Miss Parker. It’s an insult to serve meat like this to a God-fearing cattleman.”
    But when Mr. Waters, a florid gentleman with a stomach his watch chain almost failed to span, came over, Jeff stood up, his grin spreading. Shaking hands, he said, “Here I am again, Jack. And ready to prove my point.”
    “You don’t give up easily, Jeff. I respect that in a man. What’s the trouble?”
    “Sit down and take a bite, man.”
    His cheeks abloom with confidence, Mr. Waters did as Jeff asked. Like Edith, he soon began chewing more and more slowly, each grind of his teeth a greater effort. He fought to swallow his bite. “So all right, that particular steak is a mite . . . stiff. But I’m sure . . .”
    “You want to try the young lady’s?”
    “As they came from the same side of beef . . . But you get the occasional tough cow from the wholesaler. Could happen to anyone.”
    “And your cook takes the tougher stuff and gets a kickback from the supplier, or charges you for the prime stuff and puts the difference in his own pocket,”
    “That happens too.”
    Some vulgar shouting echoed from the saloon, words no gentleman would utter. Mr. Waters glanced at Edith, a frown drawing down his heavy brows. “Beg your pardon, miss. Gotta take care of that one of these days.”
    “Look, Jack,” Jeff said in a reasonable tone. “You want to attract a better class of customer, right? You want the society ladies to eat here, and to bring along their high-rolling husbands. You want the businessmen, the big boys, to make their deals here and drop the cash they carry around.”
    “Sure, that’s what every restaurateur wants.”
    “So stop serving meat that the customer needs to cut with a hacksaw. This cow’s been driven from Texas, losing weight and fat with every step. He’s lean, so lean that all the flavor’s gone, ‘cause all he’s had to eat is scrub.”
    “True.”
    “Now take one of my beefs. He’s been living on lush Missouri grass for two years, never having to walk further than the stream running through the bottom of the field. Then for the last six months of his life, he lives like a prince on the finest grains and corn. He’s fat, Jack, fat and contented.”
    “I kinda envy him,” Jack said, his broad hand resting on his stomach. Edith nodded in agreement.
    Jeff went on, “Then he takes a little ride on a train. The track’s laid, you know. Then he’s put down humanely at my brother-in-law’s place at the St. Louis stockyards. Harlan also takes care of the aging, and he’ll see you get what you pay for.”
    “That’ll make a change, all right.”
    Jeff put his hand on Mr. Waters’ shoulder and gave him a searching glance. “And when you serve your customers,” he said, “they’ll get a steak so juicy, so tasty, you know they’ve got to come back for more. ‘Specially as every other restaurant in town’s still serving Texas beef.”
    “All right ... all right.” Mr. Waters pushed himself up from the table. “You’ve sold me. But I want exclusive rights in St. Louis. Let’s say, for a year. By that time, either I’ll have the best place in the city, or be bankrupt. And dang me, if I don’t close down the bar!”
    The two men shook hands again. Mr. Waters nodded to Edith before returning to his office. Jeff sat down. “Sorry about that,” he said, shaking out his napkin. “Shouldn’t deal in front of a lady.”
    “Don’t apologize. I was fascinated. Is that why you came to St. Louis?”
    “I’ve had this idea for a while. But I’ve been stymied