Elias remained seated.
He didn't reach across the table without invitation.
Finally, he said, "You don't owe me a single word."
She looked up.
He continued.
"I came because I wanted you to know that the man you helped survived."
Loretta's face crumpled.
For twelve years, she'd carried the quiet sadness of believing she'd failed to save him.
Now he was sitting before her.
Alive.
Warm.
Eating the food she cooked.
She pressed both hands against her cheeks.
"Well," she whispered, "that's the finest news I've heard in a very long time."
Elias smiled.
Then he looked toward the untouched portion of bread on his plate.
"May I finish supper?"
Loretta laughed.
This time, the sound was full and bright.
"Of course you may."
Elias returned to his meal.
And for the first time that evening, Loretta felt as though she could breathe.
The cookhouse door opened again shortly afterward.
Bram Kincaid stood in the entrance.
He'd gone outside to drink with two of his preferred workers, and his expression suggested he was surprised to find Elias still seated at the table.
He looked toward the washed dishes.
Then toward the empty griddle.
Finally, he looked at Loretta.
"Thought you'd be finished by now."
Loretta's smile disappeared.
Elias noticed.
Bram approached the counter.
"There's still cleaning to do."
Loretta nodded.
"I know."
The foreman looked toward Elias.
"Your friend staying the night?"
Loretta hesitated.
Elias answered.
"If the cookhouse has a room."
Bram laughed.
"Not for strangers who start trouble."
Elias set down his fork.
"I haven't started anything."
Bram's expression hardened.
"You shoved me."
"You shoved first."
Several miners remaining near the far wall looked toward them.
Bram pointed toward the door.
"Get out."
Loretta felt fear rising.
She knew how quickly Bram could make life difficult for anyone who challenged him.
But before Elias could answer, she spoke.
"He brought enough meat to feed fifty men. I'll give him a place to sleep."
Bram stared.
"You'll do what?"
Loretta took a slow breath.
"The storeroom has a spare cot. He can stay there."
The foreman looked almost amused.
"You seem to have forgotten who controls this establishment."
Loretta's hands trembled.
She knew the company handled the meal vouchers.
She knew its manager claimed authority over the property.
But the lease hadn't yet been settled, and she had never signed an agreement surrendering control of the kitchen itself.
She looked directly at Bram.