Chapter 11: Morning

I came down the loft stairs at six with my shirt on inside out.

Abel was at the camp stove with a spatula in his hand.

He took one look at me and looked very hard at the eggs.

"Good morning," he said, to the eggs.

"Morning," I said.

"Sleep okay?"

"Yes."

"The cot is really loud," said Abel.

I turned bright red.

Ward lay propped on a pile of bedrolls on the steel table, pale and awake, with a blanket to his chest.

He watched me cross the room.

"I'd say I didn't hear anything," he said, "but I've had a bullet wound and a lot of painkillers, and I'm a poor liar."

"Ward!"

"I'm happy for you both."

"I'm going to electrocute you," I said.

"Please don't," said Ward. "I've had enough of that this week."

Emmett came in from the gate with an empty coffee cup, saw my face, and began to laugh so hard he had to hold on to the bucket truck.

"I want it noted," he said, wheezing, "that I called it. Day four. I said, those two are going to explode, and nobody believed me."

"Nobody bet on it," said Hollis.

He stood at the shop door with a pot of coffee.

His hair was wet, and he wore a fresh shirt, and he did not look at me.

I understood from the set of his shoulders that he had not looked at me on purpose.

He poured a cup, stirred in cream, no sugar, and handed it to me without a word.

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