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But when he returned to the kitchen and found the table set, big bowls of stew steaming gently, a golden mound of cornbread in the center of the table, and Mary smiling at him, the bone deep longing in his chest was almost as painful as the injuries he had incurred during the war. He hesitated, still debating the urge to run, but she pointed at the chair next to her.
“Now sit. Eat.”
“I believe you are the one being bossy now,” he muttered as he obeyed, and she laughed.
“Good. It’s about time the tables were turned.”
He took a large spoonful of stew and almost moaned with pleasure.
“This is delicious.”
Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled at him.
“Thank you. I enjoy cooking. I even tried working in a restaurant once in Port Cantor.”
Her pleased expression faded.
“What happened?”
“The usual. Another bastard of a boss. He wasn’t that bad to me because he liked my cooking, but there were a couple of young Satian girls working there and he treated them like slaves. I finally told him off and he fired me.” She shrugged, but he could hear the bitterness in her voice. “I was never very good at keeping my mouth shut and just going along with things.”
He couldn’t help laughing, despite his anger at the male who had treated her so poorly.
“No, little fojii, I don’t imagine you are.” She grinned back, her bitterness fading, and his curiosity got the better of him. “What other employment did you seek?”
As they ate she told him about the many jobs she had attempted. Although she kept her voice light and made the stories amusing, he could read between the lines enough to know that she’d had a difficult time. If only he had encountered her then, perhaps he could have aided her. Or perhaps he would have avoided her as she appeared to have avoided other males. Although she let very little drop, he gathered that her attempts at a relationship had been as disappointing as her attempts at employment.
After dinner, they sat at the table drinking tea and to his surprise, he found himself telling her about some of his jobs. There had been fewer and they had lasted longer, but they had been just as unsatisfying.
“Temel was always looking for better opportunities for us, but none of us fit in well in civilian society. Except perhaps S’kal,” he admitted reluctantly.
“He seems to enjoy leading the caravans.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps he prefers the constant movement rather than having time to reflect. None of us were unscathed by the war,” he added, meeting her eyes across the table.
He saw the understanding on her face before she nodded and rose.
“I’ll just clean the dishes -” A wide yawn interrupted her words and she grinned. “And then I’m going to bed.”
“I will clean the dishes,” he said firmly as he stood. “You need to rest.”
Instead of arguing, she tilted her head and considered him thoughtfully.
“Are you planning to spend the night in the barn again?”
She knew about that? He started to deny it and tell her he wouldn’t stay, but he already knew he wouldn’t be leaving.
“Yes.”
“That’s stupid, especially after you work so hard today.” She held up a hand when he started to object. “Just stay with me. In the house, I mean,” she added quickly, her cheeks turningpink. “You can stay in my parents’ room or upstairs in my old bedroom if you put something over the broken window.”
This is not a good idea, he told himself, but he nodded anyway.
“Good, then that’s settled.” She hesitated again, then rose up on her toes to brush her mouth gently against his. “Thank you for your help today.”
He clenched his fists at his side to prevent himself from pulling her closer and demanding more. His tail lashed unhappily as he watched her walk to the door. She looked back long enough to grin at him.
“Not that I need the help, of course.”
