Page 72 of Tracking Safety

“As you may have realized by now, the cottages were vandalized.” His voice sounded even and careful around the children.

She held his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“I just wanted to give you an update. I need to head back out. The damage has set us back, and I want to get ahead of it before the end of the day.”

She stood there in the kitchen a moment after Luke left, then she turned to where Liam had settled near the window with a book. She needed to do something to occupy herself—and baking had always been one of her standbys. She was certain no one would mind if she worked in the kitchen.

“Liam.” She kept her voice light. “Do you want to come help me make some cookies?”

He looked up from his book, his expression unchanged. “No.”

She nodded once, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Okay then. But I’d love your help.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not my mom. I didn’t want you to come back! I was doing just fine without you!”

An ache split her heart in two. “Liam . . .”

But he didn’t look at her. His gaze went to his book, and it was clear he didn’t want to talk.

Time, she reminded herself. She just needed to give him time. But even with that realization, her heart still hurt.

CHAPTER 29

An hour later, Jenna stood at the counter sliding her spatula beneath some gooey chocolate chip cookies while Naomi sliced homemade bread. Ruby, meanwhile, bounced between the refrigerator and the table like a woman who’d fed large groups of people for decades.

The kitchen was warm and smelled like cookies, savory soup, and homemade bread. Outside on the screened porch the children’s voices rose and fell.

“I think everything is done,” Ruby announced. “Jenna, would you call the children and men inside? They’ve got to be hungry. Feel free to use the dinner bell. It’s old fashioned but very effective.”

“Of course,” Jenna murmured.

She set the spatula down and went to the back door.

Jenna stepped out on the porch to call the kids in and stopped at the door. Cora sat cross-legged in the grass a careful distance from Freya—close, but not too close—talking in the low, steady voice she used on things she’d decided to love. A strip of bacon lay on the step between them, an offering.

“You don’t have to,” Cora was telling the dog. “I just left it there. It’s yours if you want it.”

Freya watched her. For a long moment she didn’t move.

Then she rose, crossed the grass, and took the bacon. She didn’t retreat with it the way Jenna expected. She lay down where she was. A few feet from Cora.

Cora looked up at the porch, triumphant. “She likes me.”

“I see that.” Jenna kept her voice even, but something in her chest pulled tight. Her daughter had a gift for finding the wounded thing in a room and sitting with it until it trusted her. She’d gotten that from someone. Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to claim it.

She told the kids it was time for lunch. Then she used the bell and listened to its loud clang as the sound stretched over the property.

It didn’t take long for footsteps to pound across the porch as everyone rushed inside.

Jenna counted. Then she counted again.

Tension crept up her spine. “Where’s Liam?”

“He said he was going to play with the chickens,” Cora said as she reached for a piece of bread.

Her heart pounded faster. “When?”

Cora shrugged. “Earlier.”