"We made it." They were still sitting there eating warm cornbread and not talking about dead mothers when Ridgewell appeared in the doorway. Evelyn started to stand, but he waved her back down. "Papa, look what we made." Lily held up her piece of cornbread like a trophy.
Ridgewell's expression softened in a way Evelyn had never seen before. "Looks good, sweetheart. Miss Harper teaching you her secrets? All of them, Evelyn said. She's a quick learner.
She gets that from her mother. He said it casually, but Evelyn saw the flash of pain that crossed his face before he locked it down again. Lilly, why don't you go wash up for dinner? Mrs. Chen's making stew. Can Miss Harper eat with us?
Miss Harper has her own dinner to cook for the ranch hands. Lilly's face fell, and Evelyn felt an unexpected pang of disappointment herself. But she stood up and started cleaning the kitchen, giving them space. Maybe another time, she said to Lilly. We can make biscuits next.
I know a recipe that'll change your life. After Lilly left, practically skipping, Ridgewell lingered in the doorway. Evelyn kept cleaning, hyper aware of his presence. Thank you, he finally said, for spending time with her. She doesn't get much.
She doesn't have many people to talk to out here. She's a sweet kid. She is. He paused. But I need to be clear about something, Miss Harper.
Lilly's been through enough. I won't have her getting attached to someone who might not stay. Evelyn turned to face him, meeting his eyes directly. I signed a six-month contract, and I intend to honor it. After that, we'll see.
But I'm not the kind of person who makes promises to children and then disappears. Good. He nodded once, sharp and final. The men are asking if you can make fried chicken tomorrow. Apparently, word's gotten around about your cooking, and now they have opinions.
Let me guess, they want their mother's recipes. Something like that. I'll see what I can do. After he left, Evelyn finished cleaning and walked back to the bunkhouse through the evening light. The ranch was quieter now, most of the men finishing up their work or already washing up for dinner.
She could hear cattle lowing in the distance and the rhythmic clang of the blacksmith's hammer. Billy Carson intercepted her halfway across the yard, his hat in his hands, and that same cocky grin on his face. "Miss Harper, I was wondering" "No." Evelyn said without breaking stride. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"Doesn't matter. The answer's still no." "I just wanted to know if you needed help carrying anything." Evelyn stopped and turned to look at him. He was young, probably hadn't been working the ranch more than a year, and he had the kind of eager energy that probably got him into trouble regularly.
"I don't need help, Billy, but thank you for asking." "Maybe I could help you in the kitchen sometime. I'm real good at peeling potatoes." "I bet you are, but Mr. Ridgewell has rules about men in the kitchen during my work hours." "What about after work hours?"