CHAPTER 7
As soon asKori and Wyatt stepped inside Ember & Oak, the smell of something slow-cooked made Kori’s stomach rumble.
Before she could even wipe her boots on the rug near the door, a woman bustled from the back. She was probably in her sixties, with a sturdy build and the kind of face that had seen everything and forgotten nothing. Kori instantly liked her.
The woman’s eyes went straight to Thunder, and she crouched down, both hands going to the dog’s face. “Well, look who’s here. My hero.”
Thunder almost seemed to smile at the woman’s attention—not that dogs could smile. But if they could, that was exactly what Thunder would be doing.
“Martha.” Warmth filled Wyatt’s voice. “Good to see you.”
“You too.” Martha straightened and quickly looked Kori over, not bothering to hide the curiosity in her gaze. “Two for dinner—three including Thunder.”
“You got it.”
“Follow me.” Martha led them to a corner table away from the handful of other diners and pulled out a chair for Kori.
Then she leaned toward Thunder. “I have your favorite meal. Are you hungry, boy?”
The dog wagged his tail.
She straightened. “You two look at the menu. I’ll be right back.”
Wyatt looked at Kori, and he must have seen the curious look on her face. “Martha keeps a special meal for Thunder. She has since he found her mother in the woods two years ago. She was eighty-three years old with dementia, and she decided to take a walk at midnight.”
Her lungs tightened at the image. “Was she?—?”
“She was fine. Cold and a little confused but fine.” He shrugged and picked up the menu. “Martha’s been feeding Thunder ever since.”
Kori looked down at the dog as he settled under the table at Wyatt’s feet. Thunder looked back at her with his steady amber eyes.
She rubbed the scar on her arm.
Maybe all dogs weren’t bad. Thunder seemed pretty decent.
But she still didn’t want the canine getting too close.
She looked back at her menu and read the options. She was hungrier than she thought.
The steak sounded extraordinary. Herb crusted, with roasted potatoes and something involving butter that she refused to read the full description of.
She set the menu down and reminded herself to stay strong. She hadn’t eaten a steak in eighteen months—and she hadn’t really been tempted. The stress of this situation was playing with her willpower right now, but she needed to hold to her convictions.
Martha reappeared several minutes later with a bright smile. “Ready to order?”
Wyatt closed the menu. “I am. I’ll have my normal—the ribeye. Medium rare.”
Kori’s stomach grumbled.
Martha wrote his order down and turned to Kori. “And you?”
She cleared her throat before saying, “I’m actually vegan. Do you have anything here I can eat?”
Martha’s pen stopped moving, and she looked at Kori the way a surgeon might look at someone who had just declined anesthesia. “Vegan?”
“That’s correct.”
Another pause stretched, longer this time. Then Martha took a breath, squared her shoulders, and nodded. “I’ll figure out something.”
