At the risk of Lily Salt turning tail and fleeing her own kitchen, Roen offered a slim, apologetic smile. “Your boy was a help to me,” he said. At the stove, Clay glanced over his shoulder and gave Roen an appreciative eyeful. Roen ignored him. “Thought it was the least I could do to see him home.”
Lily’s slim hand, the one that curved over the back of a chair, tightened so her knuckles stood out in stark white relief. Her chin came up. “I reckon Clay knows the lay of the land a mite better than you do even with all of your fancy instruments.”
Clay stopped stirring and stared openmouthed at his mother. “Ma!”
Roen thought Lily appeared more surprised by her temerity than she was regretful of it. Her lips parted but she had no words. It fell to Roen to supply them. “You’re correct, Mrs. Salt. Clay was a better escort to me than I was to him, and I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Ma!” This time Clay’s cry was plaintive. “I invited Mr. Shepard to take supper with us.”
“Did you now?” she asked without taking her eyes off Clay’s guest.
“I did. He’s been taking his meals regular at the hotel and I figured home-cooked food would do him right.” He jerkedhis chin in Roen’s direction. “You can see for yourself that some meat on his bones wouldn’t come amiss.”
Lily’s eyes did not stray from Roen Shepard’s angular face, but it was impossible not to note that her son was correct. The man standing in her doorway probably filled out a black coat and tails just fine, even excellently, but his blue chambray shirt drooped some at the shoulders. The butternut leather vest was loose across the chest, and his denim trousers looked as if they would benefit from a beltandsuspenders. Someone needed to take him in hand. That thought flitted uncomfortably through her mind, but what she said was, “The Butterworth serves excellent food.”
She stepped back to the stove, took the spoon from Clay, and set it aside. “Go do what I asked you to do.”
Uncertain, Clay nonetheless hurried from the kitchen.
When he was gone, Lily pointed to the pegs to the left of the door. “You can hang your hat there.”
Roen did as he was told and closed the door behind him. Lily was already turned back to the stove when he was done. Her thick hair was neatly arranged in a braided coil at the back of her head. His eyes settled on the fragile nape of her neck as she bent to her work. “What decided you?” he asked.
“It’s the least I can do to make amends for my son pestering you.”
“Oh, but he didn’t.”
Lily picked up a folded towel and used it to open the oven door. She removed a pan of cornbread, but not before she gave Roen Shepard a jaundiced look that said she knew her son as well as her son knew the lay of the land. It was gratifying that he accepted that silent reprimand and said nothing in return.
The warm fragrance of cornbread was wafting through the kitchen as Hannah came rushing in from the hallway. She skidded to a halt, closely followed by her younger sister Lizzie, and the pair of them held up their hands to show they’d been washed clean. Droplets of water flew from their fingertips as they shook them out. Whatever admonishment Lily meant to say when she opened her mouth to speak came to nothing as Hannah interrupted her mother.
“So youarehere!” she said, addressing Roen Shepard.“Clay said you were but I didn’t know if I could believe him. He likes to play tricks. Say hello, Lizzie, to Mr. Shepard.”
Lizzie, at five, was a practiced coquette. She gave Roen a sidelong glance and a sweet smile while tilting her head just so. Her curls, the color of sunshine, swung to and fro when she righted her head. “Hello.” Then she sidled closer to her sister, where she sought the protection of Hannah’s gingham skirt.
“Hello, Lizzie. Hannah. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
Lily set the pan of cornbread on a warming plate on top of the stove. “Set the table, Hannah. Bowls and spoons. Lizzie, take your seat.” To Roen, she said, “How do my girls know you?”
Hannah answered before Roen could. “We see him in church, Ma. Same as everyone.”
Lily recognized the truth in that, but she also recognized there was something left unsaid. “I was speaking to Mr. Shepard.”
Roen hadn’t moved more than two feet into the kitchen. His place at the table was not clear to him, and he waited to be invited to sit or asked to help. “They introduced themselves when we were in Hennepin’s mercantile.”
Lizzie plopped herself into her chair and swung her feet under the table. “He bought us a bag of licorice whips and horehound drops.”
Lily frowned deeply. “Why would you do that? No, Lizzie, I don’t want to hear from you. I want to hear from Mr. Shepard.”
Lizzie clamped her lips closed and regarded Roen sorrowfully. She had told the truth but her mother’s expression led her to believe it wasn’t the right answer.
Without the least regret, Roen said, “It appears I overstepped, and that certainly was not my intention. Indeed, my intention was to move them along. As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Hennepin has a large selection of candy and your girls could not decide between the peppermint, the butterscotch, or the horehound drops. It was amusing at first, and then it was painful. I had an appointment, you see, and needed to be onmy way, and Mr. Hennepin was giving the girls their due, as a good shopkeeper should. I chose the horehound candies for them and added the licorice whips because I wanted one myself. And that’s how it came to pass. They were grateful and I was on time for my meeting with the town council.”
He thought he saw Lily’s lips twitch, but whether she was amused or skeptical, he couldn’t say. After a moment she nodded once and the subject was closed. Lizzie’s sigh of relief was audible and Hannah actually winked at him. If Lily noticed either girl’s reaction, she did not comment.
“Can I help?” Roen asked as Hannah set bowls on the table.
Lily pointed out a chair. “You can sit yourself there. Ham will sit beside you. The girls opposite. Hannah. See what’s keeping your brothers.”
