He grinned widely.

“We eat them.  That’s all we’ve needed to know.”

“If we want to try to raise a few, we’ll need to find out what they eat.  If it’s something we can gather, it could work; but if we need to purchase something, we might be out of luck.”

“They eat seed,” Anton’s familiar voice said behind me, “from the grasses, insects, and other things.  Keeping them should be no problem if we build a pen in the meadow

I turned with a smile.  Anton stood in the doorway, eyeing Thomas.  Thomas, still at the table, glowered at Anton.

“Welcome back, Anton,” I said, pulling his attention from Thomas.  “There are clean plates over here if you’d like some pheasant.”

“I didn’t come to eat.  I came to help.  I heard what happened yesterday.”  His gaze lingered on my sore cheek.

I nodded, but wanting to forget yesterday, changed the subject.  “I’m glad you came back.  Thomas and I were just talking about the junk yard, too.  I’d like to go there to see if we can find anything else useful, but it sounds like it might be too far for me to walk in a day.”

“I could carry you and run it,” he said.  “It would take an hour.”

“Run carrying me for an hour?  You wouldn’t get tired?”

He gave me a cocky grin.  “No.”

Thomas cleared his throat.

“Winifred would like you to stay here until she arrives.  She’s concerned about your safety after yesterday’s attack and feels this is the safest place for you.”

Disappointed, I nodded.  I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I’d need to control anyone again.

“Then I suppose I’ll find something to do around here,” I said, rinsing the plate and setting it aside to dry.  “What is everyone else working on today?”

“Bine, Zerek, and most of the others are still working on wood.  A few are fixing things in the other building.”

He didn’t mention anything about Grey, Henry, or Paul; and I didn’t ask.  I needed to focus on my own purpose for the day.  There were still windows to replace and a ladder to check on.  I wiped my hands on my pants and added laundry to the list.

“Anton, if you’re willing, can you help me with the windows?” I asked, walking toward the door.

“Of course,” he said.

“If you want, you can join us when you finish, Thomas,” I said, glancing back at him.  His gaze was on his plate, but he nodded.

Ten

Ann and Mary had the evening meal on the stove when I trudged in hours later.

“Heard things aren’t going well,” Mary said.

“Not really.  Anton broke several panes of glass while trying to cut them with his nails, which is impressive to watch, by the way.  And building a coup for pheasants isn’t easy work.  We need some kind of wire or net to go over the top of the walls otherwise the birds just fly away.  One of the guys suggested breaking their wings,” I said with exasperation.  Neither Mary nor Ann looked as upset by the idea as I was.  “How are things going in here?”

“It’s going well,” Mary said.  “We’ve been working on making the unusable clothes from those charity bags, usable.  We washed everything, tore the pieces into sections, removed and saved the buttons, and now have a bunch of random cloth.  Wash rags, drying cloths, bandages...I think we have it all covered now.  We also started sewing some curtains from the bigger shirts.”  She pointed to the window behind me.  It now had a heavy flannel curtain pulled back with ties.

“I’m impressed,” I said.  “Better progress than I’ve made.  What’s for dinner?”

“Gregory brought in several squirrels.  We made a stew again, like you did yesterday.  Tried to, anyway.  It doesn’t taste the same.”

I went to the stove, gave the pot a stir, and then took a small taste.  It wasn’t bad.  There was a hint of scorch to it, though.

“It’s good.  But, after you add the rice, you need to make sure to stir it more often, I think.  The rice settles to the bottom and can burn easily.”  At least, I thought that might be what had happened.

Both Mary and Ann nodded.

“We have water heating if you want to wash,” Mary said.

I heaved a grateful sigh.

“Thank you.”

I shut myself into the side room and peeled off my shirt.  Mary had moved one of the small tables into the room, and a bowl of hot water waited.  Beside it laid several folded squares of cloth.  I wet one and washed my face, arms, then hands.  The water was dark when I finished.  I totally wanted a bath but knew dinner was almost done.  I air-dried then put my dirty shirt back on.

When I stepped back out, I saw many of the men were in the room and already eating.  Winifred was there, too, having a quiet conversation with Mary.  Both looked my way.  Mary looked slightly guilty and Winifred a tad upset.  Winifred, I could understand.  Dealing with these men, there was always something to be upset about.  But why Mary’s guilty look?

I moved to join them.

“Hello, Charlene.  Mary was just telling me about the changes—”

“Winifred,” Thomas said, standing from his spot at the table.  “Could I have a minute?”

I didn’t miss Winifred small, slow exhale as if she were trying to control her temper.

“Of course, Thomas.”

Mary and I watched her join Thomas on the other side of the room.  They didn’t speak openly, just stood near each other, not saying anything.

“That’s a handy trick,” I said softly, wishing Mary and I could do that.  The ability to have a completely private conversation in this place was impossible for me.  Not for them, though.

“Did you eat already?” I asked Mary.

“Yes.  I saved a bowl for you, too.”  She pointed toward the stove.

“Thanks.”  I stepped away to fetch the bowl while keeping an eye on Winifred and Thomas.

He stood before her with his arms crossed over his still bare chest.  I needed to grab him a shirt from the pile of clothes in the front entry.  He appeared neither upset nor happy as he stared at Winifred.  She, however, was turning a bright shade of pink.

The sparse conversation that had whispered through the room when I entered, disappeared. The room quietly waited for the outcome of whatever Winifred and Thomas discussed.

I rejoined Mary, who studied the pair as well, and took my first bite.  The stew was a bit too thick, and my teeth closed on a small piece of gristle.  I quickly swallowed it whole.

“This is really good.  Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice down.

“You’re too nice for this place.”  Mary gave me a sideways glance, and I saw the start of a humorous curve to her lips.

“Enough.”

Winifred’s sudden outburst startled me.  I looked over and saw her throw her hands up.

Thomas uncrossed his arms, but fisted his hands, giving away how he felt.

“Winifred.  You started this.  Now let it go.”

She waved him away as she turned toward me.  Her dismissal of him seemed to unlock the others in the room.  Many of them rose, following her as she crossed the room.  They left their bowls by the sink, and she moved to look in the bag of medical supplies.

“As soon as you’re done eating, I’d like to look at your stitches,” she said.  “Perhaps we can take them out.”

I was ready to be done eating, but dutifully took another bite.  The men slowly left the room.  Thomas didn’t leave, though.  He sat at the table and watched me.  Used to his study, I didn’t pay him much mind.

Without chewing too much, I managed to swallow down half the stew when Anton walked in.  He went to the stove, saw the empty pot, and started to turn away.

“Anton, you can have the rest of mine,” I said quickly.

Mary grinned but said nothing. I knew she could see through the offer of my stew, but I did feel badly that there hadn’t been a full portion for him.