“And perhaps some sliced tomatoes and some bread and, oh! There’s chocolate.” Delia brandished the delicious looking bar as she spun around. “That will be dessert.”
Anna gave the first little smile Delia had seen when she laid eyes on the chocolate. Her hand crept toward it the second Delia set it down. Guessing exactly what the girl intended to do—take it and run—Delia picked it back up and set it in the pantry again. “I’ll need your help,” she said, pretending Anna had never intended to escape with the chocolate in hand.
She opened cupboards until she found a knife suitable for slicing bread and a wooden board. She’d have to tell Max how well-stocked his kitchen was. She’d expected to have to make do, but she had yet to find anything lacking.
Setting the board and the knife on the table next to the bread, she looked at Anna. “Have you ever sliced bread?”
Anna shook her head.
“All right, I’ll show you. But first we must wash our hands.” She found a bit of soap on the countertop, pushed back her sleeves, and stepped out the rear door, hoping to find a water source. She was rewarded with a well that appeared to be for all of the nearby homes and businesses, including theirs.
Delia half-expected Anna to run off again, but she must have been intrigued enough to follow suit as Delia washed her hands and led the way back inside.
Anna said nothing as Delia demonstrated how to slice the bread safely. When Anna successfully cut the first slice, Delia praised her. “When you’ve finished, you may set the bread on a dish and take out the butter.”
Satisfied that Anna was occupied for the moment, Delia set to work with the ham. After a few minutes, they had a simple and filling lunch prepared. Anna didn’t have much to say, but Delia counted the fact that she’d remained in the kitchen and done what was asked of her as a victory.
She invited Max in to eat. The second they were all seated, Anna dug into the food as if she were starving. Delia bit her lip. She’d intended to say a prayer, but that could wait. She could work on table manners and prayers later. For now, it was enough that Anna was present.
“What do you usually cook for supper?” she asked Max.
“Potatoes. Vegetables. I’ve tried to make chicken, but it never tastes all that good.” He made a face. “Usually, I buy food already made to bring home.”
It sounded as if Anna had plenty to eat on a daily basis, so hunger didn’t explain why she’d tried to take those rolls. Delia smiled as she watched the girl enjoy the bread she’d worked hard to slice and butter.
“Anna sliced and buttered the bread,” she told Max.
His eyebrows lifted as if he didn’t believe her. “This may be the best bread I’ve ever had,” he said.
Anna watched him but said nothing. After a few seconds, she pushed away her half-eaten plate. “I’m not hungry.” Then she jumped up and ran out the back door.
“Anna!” Max stood and called after her, but she was already gone.
“Perhaps we should go after her this time?” Delia asked. All she could imagine was the marshal dragging Anna back home again with another wild story about what the girl had done.
Max’s shoulders sagged, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. “I’ll go.”
He looked so defeated that she reached out and squeezed his arm. He gave her a smile before retreating to the parlor for his hat. After a moment, she heard the door close.
Sitting alone at the table, surrounded by the remains of their lunch, Delia pressed her fingers to her temples.
What had she gotten herself into?
She’d planned to write about the people she met in town, the wilderness, and the trials of marrying someone she barely knew.
But the only things on her mind right now were a troubled little girl and a kind man desperate to be a good father.
