Chapter 1

1

Mal couldn’t remember the last time he ate a real meal, sitting a real table, surrounded by well-scrubbed and smiling faces. He nodded his thanks at Mrs. Rose as she passed his full plate and dug into the food, his stomach twisting with a hard hunger cramp as soon as he tasted his biscuit. Lee Rose continued speaking as the meal was served, but he didn’t seem terribly offended by Mal’s lack of response. The three Rose children ate their dinner politely and silently, though they couldn’t stop stealing glances at Mal. He didn’t mind—after all, he was a stranger at their table.

He grimaced when his fork scraped against the bottom of the empty plate. He was still hungry, but he wouldn’t infringe further on their hospitality. Especially since they were all still eating. When he glanced up, Mrs. Rose’s eyes were dancing in the dim lamplight.

“I like to see a man with a hearty appetite.”

Mal smiled. “It’s easy to have a hearty appetite when the food is this good, ma’am. These biscuits are heavenly.”

“They’re Christian’s special recipe,” the youngest child volunteered. “She lets me help with them.”

“Emily, children should be seen and not heard at the dinner table.”

“Sorry, Ma.” She put her head down and focused on her food once again.

“Well, these are some good biscuits.”

“Christian!” Mrs. Rose didn’t lift her voice, but she didn’t need to in the small house. Only a thin wall and door separated the dining room from the kitchen. “She will get you more food.”

“Oh, no, ma’am, that isn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is. Don’t let it ever be said that a man left my table hungry.”

A girl shuffled out of the kitchen, her head down and shoulders hunched. At first, she looked no more than a child, but as she approached the table, the fire cast more light on her form, and Mal could see she was young, but she wasn’t a child. Her long hair hung around her face in dirty black strands, and her body was a little too pinched to look inviting. She didn’t make eye contact with anybody in the room.

“Please serve another plate to our guest, Christian.”

The girl nodded, took his empty plate, and left again.

“Forgive her,” Lee said, licking the gravy from his mustache. “Mrs. Rose has tried to teach the poor girl English, but she is, no doubt, incapable of learning.”

“She seems to understand it,” Mal said, glancing at the empty space where his plate used to be.

“She does a bit, by the grace of God, but she only knows that savage tongue her mother insisted on teaching her.”

Mal wanted to ask who she was, and why she was there, but he doubted the answer was anything that should be discussed over the dinner table. When the girl returned to the room, he tried to watch her without staring. He saw a curious light in her eye that might have just been his imagination. She carefully placed his dinner in front of him, bending next to his arm. She glanced up from the corner of her eye, and their gazes met. That curious light was still present.

Lee resumed his speech as soon as the girl returned to the kitchen, and Mal resumed eating. He only listened with half an ear now, as Lee spoke of the great times he used to have with Mal’s father, the great Brandon Hawkins. Mal already knew these stories, though he had heard slightly different versions of the same events. Brandon always spoke of his years in the Union army as though he was delivering a lesson in history. Lee took a different approach.

“I swear, I never saw so many Rebs. I told Brandon I was going to take out at least two dozen of them. He said he’d take that bet, and the stakes were the first pair of decent shoes we could find. Well, I took out twenty-five of those bastards, and I’ll be damned if the twenty-fifth didn’t have the newest pair of boots I ever saw! Must have been a gift from his mama or his wife. They were a size too small, but I was wearing rags on my feet at that point. Anyway, I insisted your pa should take them, since they were just about his size, but he wouldn’t, you know. He said I’d won the bet fair and square.”

Mal smiled and laughed at the appropriate points. The children didn’t even react. Perhaps they had heard all of this a hundred times already. Or perhaps they weren’t listening to him at all. Mrs. Rose smiled at the right times, too, but otherwise, her attention was completely focused on Mal. He resisted the impulse to fidget under her watchful gaze, but he couldn’t help but think she saw something she shouldn’t. Like he was naked in front of her. She didn’t even have the good manners to look away when he glanced up and caught her staring.