He turns back to me, surprised. “Oh, yeah?”
“She liked to be in the kitchen.”When she could, anyway.
Rowen slants his head. “Did you say was? She’s not around anymore?”
I flinch. Shit. I shouldn’t tell them too much about me.
Turning around, I walk to the window, but Rowen follows, keeping his distance. After eating a treat from his plate, he says, “I’m sorry you lost her. I know that pain. My dad died about five years ago.”
I don’t look at him or reply.
“What was your favorite thing that she made?”
It’s an innocent question, but it still makes my heart clench. I chew the inside of my cheek.
He leans against the dresser, waiting.
“Ice cream,” I say finally. “I’ve never had ice cream like hers.”
Rowen’s brows lift, and the half-amused, half-confused glint in his eyes almost makes me laugh. “I… you know, I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade ice cream before.” He considers it, then shakes his head. “No, Idon’t think so. Which is kind of surprising when I think about it. Mom makes everything from scratch, so why not ice cream? We usually just buy the cartons at the store.”
I don’t reply.
Rowen holds the plate of treats out, and I take a chocolate ball, enjoying the silky, minty goodness on my tongue.
“What was your favorite flavor?” Rowen asks. “Of ice cream, I mean.”
“Is all of them an appropriate answer?”
He laughs. “Okay.Yes,it is. All ice cream is good. But if you had to choose. What would be your top three?”
I have to think about it. There are so many flavors I’ve missed over the years. “Butter pecan, chocolate peanut butter, and lemon.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Lemon?”
I shrug. “Mom used real lemons, so there was a tartness that matched the sweet. I know it sounds weird, but it was really good.”
He reaches for another apple treat. “It’s not weird. Mom uses the tartest apples to make these. Like, they’re awful before they’re cooked down. I can’t stand them. But after?” He takes a bite and moans. “Heaven.”
“Tobias?”
We both turn to see Red holding a stack of clothes in his hands. I blink in surprise when he holds them out to me. I thought I’d have to steal some.
“These should fit you, since we’re similar in size.” When I don’t accept them, Red sets the clothes on the bed. “There’s three pairs of pants and, oh… maybe half a dozen shirts? I’ll find you some sweaters too, since it’s so cold. Oh, and I brought you some more tonics too.” He pulls two amber bottles from his pocket, explaining each of them. “The taller one is a plain lavender blend. No magic. Just something to calm your nerves, if you want it. And the other one is the same healing tonic I’ve already given you, except without the sleeping draught.”
The gifts are too much. Way more than I expected. I don’t know what to do, or say. My eyes suddenly burn with unshed tears.
He gives a small smile as he sets the bottles on the dresser. “I’ve instructed everyone to give you space for now, but you’re free to come down when you’re ready. We won’t lock the door anymore. I apologize for that, by the way. I just didn’t want you to leave when we were cutting down our Christmas tree.”
My eyes widen.It’s Christmastime?
Red exits the room, leaving the door open.
Rowen gently touches my elbow before pulling away. “Come out when you’re ready, okay?”
I stare after the men in a daze. Maybe I haven’t landed in another hellhole after all.
4
