the wind. “Nope. All’s under control.” He darted them a quick glance. “Have you ladies had breakfast yet?”
“Victoria, has, but I, uh, slept a little later.”
“You’ll find fresh eggs and bacon in the icebox. Better eat and enjoy before they spoil.”
Fresh eggs and bacon sounded just fine to Shaye, even if the word icebox was a little antiquated. Somehow, though, coming from Samson it didn’t seem strange. Without pausing to reflect on the improvement in her attitude toward him, she asked, “How about you? Can I bring you something?”
“Ah no,” he sighed, patting his belt. “I had a full breakfast earlier.”
“How about coffee?”
“Now that’s a thought. If you make it strong and add cream and two sugars, I could be sorely tempted.”
Shaye smiled and turned to her aunt. “Anything for you?”
“Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m fine.”
“See you in a bit, then.” Still smiling, she entered the companionway, trotted down the steps and turned into the galley. There her smile faded. Noah was sprawled on the built-in settee that formed a shallow U behind the small table. He’d been alerted by the pad of her sneakers and was waiting, fork in hand, chewing thoughtfully.
“Well, well,” he drawled as soon as he’d swallowed, “if it isn’t the iron maiden.”
“I though you’d already eaten.”
“Samson has, but I don’t make a habit of getting up at dawn like he does.”
She was looking at his plate, which still held healthy portions of scrambled eggs and bacon, plus a muffin and a half, and a huge wedge of melon. “Think you have enough?”
“I hope so. I’m going to need all the strength I can get.”
“To sit back and watch Samson sail?”
“To fight with you.”
Determined not to let him irk her—or to let him interfere with her breakfast—she went to the refrigerator. “It’s not really worth the effort, you know.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She shrugged and reached for two eggs and the packet of bacon. After setting them on the stove, she opened one cabinet, then the second in search of a pan.
“In the sink,” Noah informed her.
She took in the contents of the sink at a disdainful glance. “And filthy. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Automatically she reached for the tap, only to find there was none.
“Try the foot pump. You won’t get water any other way. Not that you really need it. Why not just wipe out the pan with a paper towel and use it again?”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Not really. You’re having the same thing I had.”
“But there’s an inch of bacon fat in this pan.”
“Drain it.”
There was a subtle command in his voice that drew her head around. “I take it we’re conserving water.”
“You take it right.”
She pressed her lips together, then nodded slowly as she considered her options. She could pump up the water in a show of defiance, but if water was indeed in short supply, she’d be biting off her nose to spite her face. Bathing was going to be enough of a challenge; a little water spared now would make her feel less guilty for any she used later.
Very carefully she drained the pan, then swabbed it out with a paper towel and set it on the stove to heat.
“Need any help?” he taunted.
“I can crack an egg.”
“Better put on the bacon first. It takes longer.”
“I know that.”
“Then you’d better start separating the bacon. The pan will be hot and you’ll be wasting propane.”
“Are you always a tightwad?”
“Only when I’m with a spendthrift.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So educate me.”
But Shaye wasn’t about to do any such thing. It suited her purpose to keep Noah in the dark, just as it suited her purpose to leisurely place one rasher of bacon, then another in the pan. While they cooked, she rummaged through the supplies until she located the coffee, then set a pot on to perk.
“I’m impressed,” Noah said around a mouthful of food.
“Victoria, has, but I, uh, slept a little later.”
“You’ll find fresh eggs and bacon in the icebox. Better eat and enjoy before they spoil.”
Fresh eggs and bacon sounded just fine to Shaye, even if the word icebox was a little antiquated. Somehow, though, coming from Samson it didn’t seem strange. Without pausing to reflect on the improvement in her attitude toward him, she asked, “How about you? Can I bring you something?”
“Ah no,” he sighed, patting his belt. “I had a full breakfast earlier.”
“How about coffee?”
“Now that’s a thought. If you make it strong and add cream and two sugars, I could be sorely tempted.”
Shaye smiled and turned to her aunt. “Anything for you?”
“Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m fine.”
“See you in a bit, then.” Still smiling, she entered the companionway, trotted down the steps and turned into the galley. There her smile faded. Noah was sprawled on the built-in settee that formed a shallow U behind the small table. He’d been alerted by the pad of her sneakers and was waiting, fork in hand, chewing thoughtfully.
“Well, well,” he drawled as soon as he’d swallowed, “if it isn’t the iron maiden.”
“I though you’d already eaten.”
“Samson has, but I don’t make a habit of getting up at dawn like he does.”
She was looking at his plate, which still held healthy portions of scrambled eggs and bacon, plus a muffin and a half, and a huge wedge of melon. “Think you have enough?”
“I hope so. I’m going to need all the strength I can get.”
“To sit back and watch Samson sail?”
“To fight with you.”
Determined not to let him irk her—or to let him interfere with her breakfast—she went to the refrigerator. “It’s not really worth the effort, you know.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She shrugged and reached for two eggs and the packet of bacon. After setting them on the stove, she opened one cabinet, then the second in search of a pan.
“In the sink,” Noah informed her.
She took in the contents of the sink at a disdainful glance. “And filthy. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Automatically she reached for the tap, only to find there was none.
“Try the foot pump. You won’t get water any other way. Not that you really need it. Why not just wipe out the pan with a paper towel and use it again?”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Not really. You’re having the same thing I had.”
“But there’s an inch of bacon fat in this pan.”
“Drain it.”
There was a subtle command in his voice that drew her head around. “I take it we’re conserving water.”
“You take it right.”
She pressed her lips together, then nodded slowly as she considered her options. She could pump up the water in a show of defiance, but if water was indeed in short supply, she’d be biting off her nose to spite her face. Bathing was going to be enough of a challenge; a little water spared now would make her feel less guilty for any she used later.
Very carefully she drained the pan, then swabbed it out with a paper towel and set it on the stove to heat.
“Need any help?” he taunted.
“I can crack an egg.”
“Better put on the bacon first. It takes longer.”
“I know that.”
“Then you’d better start separating the bacon. The pan will be hot and you’ll be wasting propane.”
“Are you always a tightwad?”
“Only when I’m with a spendthrift.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So educate me.”
But Shaye wasn’t about to do any such thing. It suited her purpose to keep Noah in the dark, just as it suited her purpose to leisurely place one rasher of bacon, then another in the pan. While they cooked, she rummaged through the supplies until she located the coffee, then set a pot on to perk.
“I’m impressed,” Noah said around a mouthful of food.
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