Chapter 14 Supper as Usual

Scarlett’s POV (Before the War)

I'd known since the wind changed. I couldn't wait until morning to tell Father.

I'd lain facing the window as long as I could bear it, going over what I would say. Once the house was quiet, I got up, pulled on my boots and hurried down the back stairs with my coat half on and my hair loose.

The study door was closed. I knocked and opened it before I'd caught my breath. Father sat beneath a low lamp with a ledger open in front of him. He looked as though he'd been there all evening.

"Ash is my mate," I said. "I wanted you to hear it from me."

He kept his thumb between the pages for a moment, then closed the book.

"Which pack is he from?"

I'd imagined telling him, then going straight back to Ash with whatever he'd said. I hadn't expected to be answering the same question again. I took off my coat, hung it over a chair and stood behind it.

"His arm still hasn't healed. Caleb says it's getting better, but slowly."

Father waited.

"He was badly hurt. He can't be expected to explain everything at once. And he doesn't know us. Of course he's careful about what he says."

"I'd be careful too. I'd still tell the people sheltering me where I came from."

I picked at a splinter in the chair back. "He's lived south of the mountains. Beyond the ford."

"So have a great many people. Has he given you a town? A family name?"

I couldn't answer. The splinter wouldn't come loose, and I pressed it back against the wood.

"Then he stays out of council meetings, and he isn't to use the pass. You won't take him there on your own. When he tells me where he was born and who his people are, we can discuss what happens next."

I pushed the chair back, letting it scrape across the floor.

"Then ask him yourself tomorrow. You asked him at supper. Perhaps he'll tell you more now."

"He could have told me then."

"That was before we knew."

Father kept his hand on the ledger. "I'm glad you've found your mate, Scarlett. But I still need answers. Go on. We'll speak again tomorrow."

I took my coat, too disappointed to say goodnight properly. I'd thought this would settle whether Ash could stay. Instead, I had nothing to take back to him except more questions.

Caleb was in the corridor, still wearing his riding boots. He looked at my face.

"Did you argue?"

"He wants a birthplace and a family name. I don't have either."

"Then Ash can tell him himself. You don't have to do it for him."

"I'm trying to help."

"I know. Slow down a little. His arm's healing, but he still won't tell anyone where he was before he crossed the ford."

He almost smiled. "You were like this when you jumped the loose rail at the shearing pens. You wouldn't wait for anyone to lift it. Scraped both knees."

"I'm not six anymore."

"Then give it some time. You'll find out more about him."

I hated being told to wait when neither of them could say how long. I went past him and out into the yard. Father's lamp was still burning when I looked up at his window. I pulled on my coat and took the track past the pens toward the lodge.

On the walk, I worked out how to explain the conversation to Ash. At his door, I forgot half of it. The room smelled of smoke, wool and the tar used on harness leather. Beneath those familiar smells was his scent, stronger now that I knew what it meant. I wanted to go straight to him and ask whether he'd spent the evening thinking about it too.

He stood by the hearth with the poker in his good hand. I stayed near the door long enough to begin.

"Father asked about your pack. Your family, your name. Why nobody's come looking for you."

Ash lowered the poker into the coals and turned one over without looking up.

"All I could tell him was where you'd traveled. I told him you're my mate before he could ask anything, and he still wanted the answers."

I sat on the stool. Ash looked at me, the poker resting against the hearth. For a moment I thought he'd ask what Father had said about us.

"When did you last eat?"

"There's still half a loaf in that basket from lunch. You didn't finish it. Worry about your own supper."

I hadn't eaten since lunch either, and now he'd mentioned it, I was hungry. Before I could say anything else, footsteps sounded outside. Ash set down the poker and opened the door to a boy carrying a covered basket from the main kitchen.

"From the house, my lady. Your father asked us to bring it."

There were two portions beneath the cloth, with a separate dish of four small griddle cakes. I recognized the way the kitchen made mine: still pale in the middle, darker around the edges. I'd liked them that way since I was small enough to burn my fingers stealing them from the tray before Naomi could stop me.

I stood holding the cloth and looking at them. Father must have sent word to the kitchen after I'd left him.

"He sends me out of his study, then sends me cakes. He won't listen, but he still has to make sure I eat."

"Eat them," Ash said. "You can be angry with him afterward."

He served the soup with his good arm. When I reached for a bowl, he brought it closer so I could take it securely. His fingers touched mine before he let go. I looked down into the soup, wanting him to sit beside me instead of going back for his own bowl.

"Will you come up to the house tomorrow? Speak to him yourself, once he's had some sleep?"

"I will."

He answered without hesitation. I put down my spoon and reached for a cake, relieved that I wouldn't have to walk into the study alone and begin all over again.

"What will you tell him when he asks where you're from?"

I'd tried to make it sound casual. Ash picked up one of the paler cakes, then set it down uneaten. I waited, but he didn't answer. I wanted to ask again. I also wanted to eat supper with him without returning to the argument I'd just left.

The edge of my cake broke off in my fingers. That corner was darker than I liked, so I ate it first.

"They've had the griddle too hot again. I'll tell them in the morning, before I go to Father's study."

"They're no worse than the bread."

"You're one to talk. You left half that loaf."

I ate the darker cakes and pushed the pale ones toward him, telling him he could thank Father for his supper. He'd promised to come with me tomorrow. He still hadn't said where he was from.