What? We are. The house is just there, Jake said, gesturing. Wash up at the pump first. He went ahead to start preparing food, pulling out what provisions he had.
Beans, salt pork, some potatoes that were starting to sprout. Not much, but it would fill bellies. He was cutting the potatoes when the sisters entered, hesitating at the threshold. "Come in," Jake said without turning. "Sit. " They filed in slowly, taking in the sparse interior.
The house wasn't much kitchen and living space in one room. His bedroom through a door to the left, his parents' room to the right, still untouched since his mother's death. The furniture was handmade, functional rather than fine. Catherine's eyes landed on the small shelf of books by the window. "You read? " she asked, the first words he'd heard her speak clearly.
"When I can," Jake replied. "You're welcome to borrow any of them. " Her face lit up, the first genuine smile he'd seen from any of them. It transformed her, revealing the young woman beneath the fear and exhaustion. "Thank you," she breathed, moving toward the shelf like it held treasure. Katie loves books, Rose said, settling into a chair with a groan.
Used to read to us every night when we were small. Before, Margaret started sharply, then cut herself off. Jake kept his attention on the cooking, but his ears were pricked. Before what? Before they'd started running, before whatever had driven them to his door in the middle of a killing storm.
Smells good, Rose said, clearly trying to change the subject. She had pulled off her boots and was rubbing her feet, grimacing. Jake noticed the blisters. Some broken and bleeding. "There's salve in that box on the shelf," he said, nodding toward his mother's medicine supplies.
"Help yourself. " Rose found the salve and began tending her feet with a matter-of-fact efficiency. Margaret had taken up a defensive position by the window where she could watch the approach to the ranch. Only Catherine seemed truly at ease. Already lost in one of Jake's few books. "You expecting trouble? " Jake asked Margaret quietly.
She stiffened but didn't turn from the window. "No, you're a poor liar. " That got her attention. She faced him, green eyes flashing. "And you're too trusting, taking in three strangers, feeding them, offering your books. Most men would want something in return. " I'm not most men.
No, she said slowly, studying him. I'm beginning to see that. Jake served up the simple meal, and they ate in relative silence. He noticed how Margaret made sure her sisters got full portions before taking any herself, how Rose kept touching Catherine's arm, as if reassuring herself the girl was really there. Family, he thought.
Whatever else they were, whatever they were running from, they were family first. There's a town about 2 days ride east, Jake said as they finished eating. Milfield sheriff there is a fair man. If you're in some kind of trouble, no law, Margaret said sharply. Too sharply.
I mean, we just need to keep moving. Find work somewhere. Start over. What kind of work? Jake asked.
The sisters exchanged glances. We can cook, clean, mend, Margaret said carefully. Honest work. Rose knows horses better than most men, Catherine added, earning a warning look from her sister. And you?