on this woman. He set the knife down and jabbed a finger toward her, but he addressed his comments to Coralie. “Ya tell that woman we don’t need her help nor her fancy spices. We’s got it covered between us.”
He glowered when Coralie shifted on her feet. “An extra pair of hands might be nice.”
“Bah!” This was his domain and as far as he was concerned, there could only be one cook—and it wasn’t going to be her. The woman could find another way to repay Wolf.
The wagon master had insisted she and her grandchildren join his group when he’d learned that she’d been left behind to nurse her sick family. He’d come across her, a month after she’d lost most of her family, fighting a group of rough-looking men who were trying to rob her and rape her granddaughter. The thieves had gotten away with her money, leaving her unable to offer any payment for Wolf’s assistance, not that his friend would have taken the woman’s money. Still, Rook couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to offer recompense, but he didn’t need or want her help, and he especially didn’t want her around him.
Undaunted by Rook’s blatant dismissal, Sofia lifted a thick black brow then glanced around, noting that the slab of pork needed to be sliced, the pieces already frying were quickly turning brown and two pots of water were boiling away. She indicated the hunks of fresh meat he’d set on a wooden board next to the pots. A sack of dried beans sat on the ground.
“You would ruin perfectly good meat by cooking it with beans and pork? No. I will make agnoletti. It will be delicious.” She kissed her fingers with a loud smack.
Rook had no idea what kind of meal she was thinking to fix and didn’t care to find out. “ My boys don’t need some fancy foreign dish they can’t even say. My grub sticks ta their ribs. Tha’s what they need: food that’ll stay with them.” He pursed his lips and added, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with beans.”
“Nothing unless that’s all you eat,” Coralie muttered beneath her breath, eyeing Sofia’s bag of spices with interest.
“What was that, lass?” He shoved his hands down onto his hips and stood.
Coralie jumped. “Ah, nothing, Rook. Nothing at all.” She glanced around, then smiled. “While Sofia cooks whatever she’s planning and you cut up the meat, I’ll start the bread.”
Both Rook and Sofia protested at the same time, for once in agreement. Repressing a shudder, Rook jammed his pipe into the pocket of his buckskin shirt. “No, lass. I’ll do it.” The men would skin him alive if he let Coralie make the bread. “Add the beans and rice to the water and finish cookin’ the pork.” He turned to glare at Sofia. “I’m still in charge around here and I says we’s having a nice stew of beans, pork and antelope meat.”
Coralie folded her arms across her chest and tapped an impatient foot. “You don’t trust me to make the bread.” Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “How am I supposed to learn if no one lets me practice?” She sniffed and glanced first at him, then Sofia from beneath golden lashes darkened by tears.
Rook knew Coralie too well, had seen her produce tears at will without even blinking an eye. The lass had perfected that pout long ago; it had got her whatever she wanted before she could walk! But Sofia fell for it.
“Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made the child cry.” She glared at him and shook her finger. “She’s right. I’ll teach her to make bread so light, it floats.”
“No,” Rook bellowed, taking a step forward. “I’m in charge of cookin’ and I say who fixes what.” He glared at Coralie who had the audacity to blink her innocent blues at him. Despite her penchant for complaining, the lass really tried. The spoiled-little-girl demeanor she adopted hid a tender, sensitive soul.
As if sensing his weakness, Coralie sniffed and turned away, shoulders hunched for good measure. Rook ignored Sofia who stood with her
He glowered when Coralie shifted on her feet. “An extra pair of hands might be nice.”
“Bah!” This was his domain and as far as he was concerned, there could only be one cook—and it wasn’t going to be her. The woman could find another way to repay Wolf.
The wagon master had insisted she and her grandchildren join his group when he’d learned that she’d been left behind to nurse her sick family. He’d come across her, a month after she’d lost most of her family, fighting a group of rough-looking men who were trying to rob her and rape her granddaughter. The thieves had gotten away with her money, leaving her unable to offer any payment for Wolf’s assistance, not that his friend would have taken the woman’s money. Still, Rook couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to offer recompense, but he didn’t need or want her help, and he especially didn’t want her around him.
Undaunted by Rook’s blatant dismissal, Sofia lifted a thick black brow then glanced around, noting that the slab of pork needed to be sliced, the pieces already frying were quickly turning brown and two pots of water were boiling away. She indicated the hunks of fresh meat he’d set on a wooden board next to the pots. A sack of dried beans sat on the ground.
“You would ruin perfectly good meat by cooking it with beans and pork? No. I will make agnoletti. It will be delicious.” She kissed her fingers with a loud smack.
Rook had no idea what kind of meal she was thinking to fix and didn’t care to find out. “ My boys don’t need some fancy foreign dish they can’t even say. My grub sticks ta their ribs. Tha’s what they need: food that’ll stay with them.” He pursed his lips and added, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with beans.”
“Nothing unless that’s all you eat,” Coralie muttered beneath her breath, eyeing Sofia’s bag of spices with interest.
“What was that, lass?” He shoved his hands down onto his hips and stood.
Coralie jumped. “Ah, nothing, Rook. Nothing at all.” She glanced around, then smiled. “While Sofia cooks whatever she’s planning and you cut up the meat, I’ll start the bread.”
Both Rook and Sofia protested at the same time, for once in agreement. Repressing a shudder, Rook jammed his pipe into the pocket of his buckskin shirt. “No, lass. I’ll do it.” The men would skin him alive if he let Coralie make the bread. “Add the beans and rice to the water and finish cookin’ the pork.” He turned to glare at Sofia. “I’m still in charge around here and I says we’s having a nice stew of beans, pork and antelope meat.”
Coralie folded her arms across her chest and tapped an impatient foot. “You don’t trust me to make the bread.” Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “How am I supposed to learn if no one lets me practice?” She sniffed and glanced first at him, then Sofia from beneath golden lashes darkened by tears.
Rook knew Coralie too well, had seen her produce tears at will without even blinking an eye. The lass had perfected that pout long ago; it had got her whatever she wanted before she could walk! But Sofia fell for it.
“Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made the child cry.” She glared at him and shook her finger. “She’s right. I’ll teach her to make bread so light, it floats.”
“No,” Rook bellowed, taking a step forward. “I’m in charge of cookin’ and I say who fixes what.” He glared at Coralie who had the audacity to blink her innocent blues at him. Despite her penchant for complaining, the lass really tried. The spoiled-little-girl demeanor she adopted hid a tender, sensitive soul.
As if sensing his weakness, Coralie sniffed and turned away, shoulders hunched for good measure. Rook ignored Sofia who stood with her
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