I nodded. “You’ll find that it’s pretty quiet intown too.”
He took a sip and shrugged. Then his brows rose. “Good coffee. Where’d you get it?”
“Penny’s in Old Town. The owner, Jimmy, will sell you beans if you ask.”
He nodded.
“May I have a taste?” Henry asked.
Without blinking, Christopher handed Henry his mug.
“It’s better than the stuff you usually drink” was Henry’s only comment after he took a sip. Then he handed the cup back to his dad.
We all dug into the food after we sat down. We didn’t need to talk as we fueled up for the day. Christopher and Henry eating my homemade breakfast in the family farmhouse kitchen hit me hard. How many times had I sat at this old, scarred table and stared out into the fenced yard and beyond to the mountains and wished I had someone to share my life?