“Ma would probably say the same thing.” Kat twisted her hands. “But things aren’t the same with her gone and Pa confused.”
“Your path is not an easy one.”
“No. But Ma would want me to be brave.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m hungry. Did you save me some food?”
“I think I can find something.” Amelia rose and fell in step with Kat.
As they approached the house, the door flew open, outlining Zach in lamplight. He was back, unharmed. Amelia’s breath caught in her chest, relief sagging through her.
Kat slowed. “Great. Zach’s angry.”
“Maybe he’s just grateful you’re safe and sound.”
With two bounds, Zach left the step and raced toward them. He skidded to a halt. “Kat, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Where have you been? I was worried sick.”
“I’m fine.” She marched past him into the kitchen.
Amelia caught Zach’s arm to stall him from following. “She went for a ride, then visited your ma’s flowers, had a little cry, let herself mourn, and fell into a deep sleep. She’s fine now, and that’s all that matters.”
He sagged. “You’re right. But she sure gave me a scare.”
Together, they entered the house. Gil, Pa, and Kat sat at the table. Amelia made tea and served Kat a plate of the stew, biscuits, and the pudding she’d served earlier to the others.
“I like the pudding.” Pa eyed Kat’s bowl.
Amelia gave him another serving.
He savored a spoonful. “Good food is good for…” He’d forgotten what he was going to say. He ate another mouthful. Then chuckled. “It’s good for the tummy.”
Tension eased from the air as they grinned at Pa.
Zach eyed Kat.
Concerned that he might scold the fragile girl, Amelia gathered up the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, hoping the commotion would distract him.
Perhaps aware of her brother’s state, Kat grabbed a towel, dried the dishes, and then hurried to bed.
Pa followed her up the stairs, and Gil slipped out the back.
Amelia sat facing Zach across the table. “I know she had you worried, but she’s fine. It might even have done her good to mourn her mother for a spell. I recall how sorrow swept over me unexpectedly. Still does occasionally.” Now, why had she admitted that? It wasn’t as if she was sad or even that she wanted sympathy. “It’s all part of grieving. We each do it in our own way.”
“Thank you.”
She blinked at his change in demeanor. “For what?”
“For everything. Finding Kat, understanding what she needs, taking care of Pa”—he waved toward the stove—“making dessert. I assume it was you.”
“It was, but to his credit, Gil has been sober all day. Good thing, as I needed him to be here with Pa while I searched for Kat.”
“What made you think of looking there?”
“That place has so many memories for you, and I thought it might be the same for Kat.”
He huffed, but his eyes glowed. “This is the first time I’m glad for those letters you received so you have an understanding of things here.”
