(Un)bidden (18 page)

I pulled back and caught her looking at Thomas again.  I glanced over my shoulder at him.  He still sat on my bed, relaxed and unconcerned by our regard.

“Could you step out for a minute, please?” I said.

He nodded, stood, and left.

“Winifred is worried about him sleeping in here with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping Winifred’s concern was for me and not Thomas.

Mary nodded hesitantly.

“She wants me to remind you she’ll be here tomorrow.”

I smiled.

“I’m fine.  I’m sorry for crying like that.  Maybe I just need a few more cookies.”

Mary finally returned my smile.  It was weak, but it was something.

“She said she’s baking them now.  I’ll stay with you until Thomas returns.”

I gave her another quick hug then kicked off my shoes and changed.  Another long day gone.  I crawled under my covers and closed my eyes.

Tomorrow had to be better.

*    *    *    *

Snuggled under the covers, I lingered between asleep and awake.  I was comfortable and felt well-rested for a change.  It took a moment to remember the prior day, the fight, and the subsequent permission I gave to Thomas.

My eyes popped open.  I once again had an up-close view of the wall.  I held still and listened for a sign I wasn’t alone but heard nothing.  But, rolling over, I found Thomas sitting with his back to the door.  His eyes were open, and he watched me closely.

Neither of us spoke.  Was he remembering how he held me last night?  I had to look away before I blushed, and I noticed Mary’s bed and clothes were gone.  They were so quiet, sometimes.

“Good morning,” I said, softly.  He smiled slightly, making me feel a bit more relaxed.  “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes.”

I sat up and winced at all the sore spots.

“Well, what should we do today?” I asked.

He chuckled, a smooth pleasant sound.

“I was about to ask you that.”

“I know.  That’s why I asked you first.  How close is the nearest town?”

“Further than you’d walk in a day.”

“Where did Mary and Gregory go to find everything?”

“Town.”

I arched my brow in question.

“We’re faster than you are.”

“Ah.  I see.  When will Winifred arrive?  Perhaps she could take me in the truck.”

“I’ll take you,” he said standing.  He held out a hand.  “But, first, let’s feed you.”

I went to him but ignored his hand.  He didn’t make an issue of it.  Instead, he turned and led the way downstairs.

The door was open in the main room, and someone already had a pot of water on the stove.  The heat from the stove battled with the cool breeze that occasionally drifted through the room.  The smell of pheasant roasting on the fire made my mouth water.

“Do you think instead of killing them, we could catch a few?” I asked as I took two plates down from on top the new cabinet.

“Pheasants?  What for?”

“Eggs.  It would be handy in winter.”  I set the plates on one of the tables.

“And tempting,” he said as he removed the skewered bird from the fire.

“It would be worth a try,” I said with a shrug.  “They would need some sort of coup, though.”

“The way you think...I can’t seem to guess what you’ll say or do next.”  Thomas set the bird on his plate and used his fork to pull off some breast meat that he then set on my plate.

“Neither can I,” I said with a grin.  “But I can explain the eggs.  I was thinking that I miss regular breakfast food like cereal, oatmeal, and eggs.  And since you seem to be able to kill a pheasant easily enough, why not just keep them alive once you catch them.”  I took a bite of the pheasant.

He nodded.  “There are several meadows and a marsh nearby.  They like the tall grasses.  Perhaps, instead of walking to the junk yard, we could go there today.”

If we had eggs, we could invest in flour too; and more food options would open up to us, like pancakes.  We could make enough pancakes each morning to feed everyone.  If we had enough eggs and flour.  When I finished my pheasant, I carried my plate to the sink.

“A trip to the meadow might be a bit premature.  We should have a coup ready first and food for them.  What do they eat in the wild?” I asked him.  I used the water from the stove to fill the sink.

He grinned widely.

“We eat them.  That’s all we’ve needed to know.”

“If we want to try to raise a few, we’ll need to find out what they eat.  If it’s something we can gather, it could work; but if we need to purchase something, we might be out of luck.”

“They eat seed,” Anton’s familiar voice said behind me, “from the grasses, insects, and other things.  Keeping them should be no problem if we build a pen in the meadow

I turned with a smile.  Anton stood in the doorway, eyeing Thomas.  Thomas, still at the table, glowered at Anton.

“Welcome back, Anton,” I said, pulling his attention from Thomas.  “There are clean plates over here if you’d like some pheasant.”

“I didn’t come to eat.  I came to help.  I heard what happened yesterday.”  His gaze lingered on my sore cheek.

I nodded, but wanting to forget yesterday, changed the subject.  “I’m glad you came back.  Thomas and I were just talking about the junk yard, too.  I’d like to go there to see if we can find anything else useful, but it sounds like it might be too far for me to walk in a day.”

“I could carry you and run it,” he said.  “It would take an hour.”

“Run carrying me for an hour?  You wouldn’t get tired?”

He gave me a cocky grin.  “No.”

Thomas cleared his throat.

“Winifred would like you to stay here until she arrives.  She’s concerned about your safety after yesterday’s attack and feels this is the safest place for you.”

Disappointed, I nodded.  I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I’d need to control anyone again.

“Then I suppose I’ll find something to do around here,” I said, rinsing the plate and setting it aside to dry.  “What is everyone else working on today?”

“Bine, Zerek, and most of the others are still working on wood.  A few are fixing things in the other building.”

He didn’t mention anything about Grey, Henry, or Paul; and I didn’t ask.  I needed to focus on my own purpose for the day.  There were still windows to replace and a ladder to check on.  I wiped my hands on my pants and added laundry to the list.

“Anton, if you’re willing, can you help me with the windows?” I asked, walking toward the door.

“Of course,” he said.

“If you want, you can join us when you finish, Thomas,” I said, glancing back at him.  His gaze was on his plate, but he nodded.

Ann and Mary had the evening meal on the stove when I trudged in hours later.

“Heard things aren’t going well,” Mary said.

“Not really.  Anton broke several panes of glass while trying to cut them with his nails, which is impressive to watch, by the way.  And building a coup for pheasants isn’t easy work.  We need some kind of wire or net to go over the top of the walls otherwise the birds just fly away.  One of the guys suggested breaking their wings,” I said with exasperation.  Neither Mary nor Ann looked as upset by the idea as I was.  “How are things going in here?”

“It’s going well,” Mary said.  “We’ve been working on making the unusable clothes from those charity bags, usable.  We washed everything, tore the pieces into sections, removed and saved the buttons, and now have a bunch of random cloth.  Wash rags, drying cloths, bandages...I think we have it all covered now.  We also started sewing some curtains from the bigger shirts.”  She pointed to the window behind me.  It now had a heavy flannel curtain pulled back with ties.

“I’m impressed,” I said.  “Better progress than I’ve made.  What’s for dinner?”

“Gregory brought in several squirrels.  We made a stew again, like you did yesterday.  Tried to, anyway.  It doesn’t taste the same.”

I went to the stove, gave the pot a stir, and then took a small taste.  It wasn’t bad.  There was a hint of scorch to it, though.

“It’s good.  But, after you add the rice, you need to make sure to stir it more often, I think.  The rice settles to the bottom and can burn easily.”  At least, I thought that might be what had happened.

Both Mary and Ann nodded.

“We have water heating if you want to wash,” Mary said.

I heaved a grateful sigh.

“Thank you.”

I shut myself into the side room and peeled off my shirt.  Mary had moved one of the small tables into the room, and a bowl of hot water waited.  Beside it laid several folded squares of cloth.  I wet one and washed my face, arms, then hands.  The water was dark when I finished.  I totally wanted a bath but knew dinner was almost done.  I air-dried then put my dirty shirt back on.

When I stepped back out, I saw many of the men were in the room and already eating.  Winifred was there, too, having a quiet conversation with Mary.  Both looked my way.  Mary looked slightly guilty and Winifred a tad upset.  Winifred, I could understand.  Dealing with these men, there was always something to be upset about.  But why Mary’s guilty look?

I moved to join them.

“Hello, Charlene.  Mary was just telling me about the changes—”

“Winifred,” Thomas said, standing from his spot at the table.  “Could I have a minute?”

I didn’t miss Winifred small, slow exhale as if she were trying to control her temper.

“Of course, Thomas.”

Mary and I watched her join Thomas on the other side of the room.  They didn’t speak openly, just stood near each other, not saying anything.

“That’s a handy trick,” I said softly, wishing Mary and I could do that.  The ability to have a completely private conversation in this place was impossible for me.  Not for them, though.

“Did you eat already?” I asked Mary.

“Yes.  I saved a bowl for you, too.”  She pointed toward the stove.

“Thanks.”  I stepped away to fetch the bowl while keeping an eye on Winifred and Thomas.

He stood before her with his arms crossed over his still bare chest.  I needed to grab him a shirt from the pile of clothes in the front entry.  He appeared neither upset nor happy as he stared at Winifred.  She, however, was turning a bright shade of pink.

The sparse conversation that had whispered through the room when I entered, disappeared. The room quietly waited for the outcome of whatever Winifred and Thomas discussed.

I rejoined Mary, who studied the pair as well, and took my first bite.  The stew was a bit too thick, and my teeth closed on a small piece of gristle.  I quickly swallowed it whole.

“This is really good.  Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice down.

“You’re too nice for this place.”  Mary gave me a sideways glance, and I saw the start of a humorous curve to her lips.

“Enough.”

Winifred’s sudden outburst startled me.  I looked over and saw her throw her hands up.

Thomas uncrossed his arms, but fisted his hands, giving away how he felt.

“Winifred.  You started this.  Now let it go.”

She waved him away as she turned toward me.  Her dismissal of him seemed to unlock the others in the room.  Many of them rose, following her as she crossed the room.  They left their bowls by the sink, and she moved to look in the bag of medical supplies.

“As soon as you’re done eating, I’d like to look at your stitches,” she said.  “Perhaps we can take them out.”

I was ready to be done eating, but dutifully took another bite.  The men slowly left the room.  Thomas didn’t leave, though.  He sat at the table and watched me.  Used to his study, I didn’t pay him much mind.

Without chewing too much, I managed to swallow down half the stew when Anton walked in.  He went to the stove, saw the empty pot, and started to turn away.

“Anton, you can have the rest of mine,” I said quickly.

Mary grinned but said nothing. I knew she could see through the offer of my stew, but I did feel badly that there hadn’t been a full portion for him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Totally.”  I held out my bowl, and he accepted it with a nod of thanks.

He didn’t move to sit by Thomas but stood by the sink, ate the last few bites, set the bowl with the others, then left the room.

“Take a seat at the table,” Winifred said, looking at me.

Still thinking of Anton’s lack of food, I spoke to Mary as I moved to do as Winifred asked.

“Tomorrow, we’ll make two pots of stew.  Whoever brings the meat should double what’s being brought.  It doesn’t have to be the same kind of meat.  Two rabbits and two pheasants would work.”

“All right,” Mary said, sitting next to me.

Winifred set the iodine and bandages to the side, moved my hair away, and bent close to look at the stitches.

“I see the tear.  And the new marks.”  The last bit she said with exasperation.