"Still no." She left him standing there looking dejected and headed into the bunkhouse. The kitchen was already starting to feel like home, which was dangerous. She'd learned not to get too comfortable anywhere because comfortable meant it hurt more when you had to leave. But as she started preparing dinner, fried chicken like the men wanted with mashed potatoes and green beans and fresh biscuits, she couldn't help feeling something settle in her chest.
Purpose, maybe. Or just the satisfaction of doing something she was actually good at. The dinner rush was controlled chaos, as always. The men filed in, loud and hungry, tracking in dust and sweat. They loaded their plates and found seats at the long tables, and Evelyn kept the food coming.
"This is incredible, Miss Harper." Tommy said, biting into a piece of chicken. "Better than Cookie by a mile." "Better than Cookie by a thousand miles." Another hand added.
"Cookie couldn't fry chicken if his life depended on it." "Remember that time he tried to make dumplings?" Someone called from the back. "Damn things were like rocks, near broke a tooth." Laughter rippled through the room, and Evelyn found herself smiling despite the exhaustion.
These weren't bad men. Rough around the edges, sure, and some of them probably had histories they weren't proud of, but they worked hard, they were honest about what they wanted, and they appreciated good food. After dinner, she was elbow deep in dishwater when Mrs. Chen appeared with a covered basket. "From Lily," the older woman said, setting it on the clean end of the prep table. "She wanted you to have some of the cornbread you made together."
Evelyn dried her hands and lifted the cloth covering. Inside were three pieces of cornbread wrapped carefully in napkins, still slightly warm. "She didn't have to do that." "No, but she wanted to." Mrs. Chen picked up a dish towel and started drying plates without being asked.
"You were kind to her today. She noticed." "I just taught her to make cornbread." "You did more than that, and you know it." The older woman's eyes were sharp.
"That child is lonely. Her father loves her, but he doesn't know how to talk to her." "I do my best, but I'm not I'm not family, just the help." "You're more than that." "Maybe, but it's not the same as having a mother."
Mrs. Chen set down a dried plate and picked up another. "Be careful, Miss Harper. Lily loses people easily. Her mother, then a series of housekeepers who couldn't handle the isolation. Don't become another person who leaves."
"Mr. Ridgewell already gave me that speech." "I'm sure he did, but I'm saying it differently." "Dawson worries about protecting Lily from disappointment. I worry about the girl having no one to teach her how to be a woman in this world." She looked at Evelyn directly.
"She needs someone like you, someone strong who doesn't quit when things get hard." The weight of that expectation settled on Evelyn's shoulders like a physical thing. "I'll do my best." "That's all anyone can ask." The weeks rolled forward with gathering momentum.
Evelyn's routine became fixed. Wake at 4:30, start breakfast, cook, clean, start lunch, cook, clean, start dinner, cook, clean, collapse into bed. On Saturdays, she taught Lily something new in the kitchen. On Sundays, she caught up on mending and wrote short letters to Thomas that she never got responses to. The money she earned went straight back to Red Hollow with Coop's supply runs, along with terse notes about how the debt should be paid.