Kiela skidded to a stop.
Panting, she stared at the greenery. “That went well.”
“If you leave out feed, it’ll come back,” Larran suggested.
Yay, more advice. “Great. Thanks. I’ll do that.” Catching her breath, she straightened and returned to her sack, which thankfully didn’t have anything within it that could escape. Although what she really wanted to do was to tell him to go away, she had to ask: “What do chickens eat?”
He gawked at her. “You bought a chicken without knowing how to feed it?”
“I lit a fire in a stove without knowing the chimney was clogged,” Kiela pointed out. “I think it’s safe to assume I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He laughed, a very nice laugh. She appreciated that it didn’t feel like he was laughingather. “Corn, oats, beans, but only if they’re cooked,” he said. “Any kind of fruit. Whatever scraps you have from your meals. They’ll eat just about anything.”
She wanted to ask what to do if the chicken didn’t like her cooking and preferred whatever it found in the wild, but she decided she’d already looked ridiculous enough in front of him for one day. “Well, as soon as you’re done . . .”
He patted the chimney as if it were a well-behaved pet. “Just about done now. Let’s try to light the stove. If it works, I’ll cook us those eggs.”
“You mean, the eggs you gave me?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
“As a gift. Those eggs.”
“Yes, I’ll cook them.”
“And eat them,” she said. He wanted to eat the eggs he’d given her as a gift, which made it not quite a gift anymore, didn’t it? “Fine. You fixed my chimney. A few scrambled eggs are better payment than coin.”
Confused, he frowned. “I didn’t ask for any payment.”
And I didn’t ask you to fix my chimney.“Let’s get this over with.” She didn’t want to owe him for this unasked-for favor.
He finished up as she went inside. After a day of cleaning, it didn’t look overly terrible, especially given the years of neglect. Caz had made additional progress in her absence as well. She noted that the quilt was back on the daybed and that pockets of dirt were piled neatly in various spots around the room.Caz made himself at home.That was a good thing.
Also a good thing: it no longer smelled like smoke.
Peeking into the back bedroom, Kiela noted that the crates were still covered by the tarp. They didn’t look as if they’d been disturbed. Reassured, she returned to the front room and eyed her nemesis, the wood-burning stove. “Ready to dance again?”
“Are you talking to the stove?” Larran asked as he came inside, ducking through the doorway.
“Were you talking to a plant?” she countered.
Caz entered, walking on his tendrils. “Hey.”
Opening the stove, she saw it had been cleaned out. Fresh wood was inside, as well as wood shavings ready to be tinder. No piles of dust and no leaves. She wondered if this was due to Caz or to Larran. Regardless, it was done. She told herself to be grateful, not annoyed. Taking the fire-starter off its hook, she knelt in front of the stove.You can do this,she told herself. She wished she didn’t have an audience.
On the other hand, if the cottage filled with smoke again, this time it wouldn’t be her fault. She struck the fire-starter and sparks flew onto the kindling.
“Blow on it,” Larran suggested.
Kiela blew on the tiny flames, certain she was going to blow them out, but no, they grew larger and the flames spread, dancing onto the other tinder and curling onto the logs. Sitting back, pleased, she shut the stove door.
As they waited for the stove to heat, Larran helped himself to a glass of water from the sink. She watched him drink it while trying not to look like she was watching him. Now that he was inside, he seemed even taller than he had before. He was a lot of person, filling her space, and she had no idea what to say to him. She felt as if she’d used up all her words in the village.When all this talking is over, I’m not going to speak for a week.
Of course, she could thank him for fixing her chimney. That was an obvious thing she could say. She knew sheshouldbe grateful, even if it had been unsolicited help. “Thank you for fixing my chimney,” she said at the same time as he said, “What did you think of the village?”
And then they paused awkwardly, and she said, “It was very nice,” at the same time as he said, “You’re welcome. It’s what your parents would have done for me.” And then: “You knew my parents?” she asked as he said, “I’m glad you liked it.”
Caz slid between them and held up his leaves. “Gah, stop! This is painful. Don’t either of you know how to have a conversation? Let the plant teach you. Firstyoutalk, thenyoutalk, thenyou . . .”
