She stared.
“You need it.”
“So do you.”
“I’m bigger than you.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He immediately realized danger.
“That came out wrong.”
“How?”
“I meant you’ve been working since dawn.”
“That is not what words mean.”
He almost laughed.
“Clara.”
She looked down.
Truth beneath the irritation.
She knew people watched how much she ate.
Always.
At market.
At weddings.
At church suppers.
A large woman taking seconds became public evidence.
Caleb understood.
He said quietly:
“I have watched you feed six people today and hide your own hunger because you think taking a full bowl will look selfish.”
Clara’s face changed.
He continued.
“That is foolish.”
She stared.
“You don’t get to decide.”
“No.”
“But I get to say.”
He took her bowl.
Filled it properly.
Set it back.
“You are not going to starve yourself to make somebody else comfortable with the shape of you.”
Her eyes burned.
She hated him suddenly.
Because tenderness could hurt more than mockery.
“Caleb.”
“Eat.”
She did.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Outside, wind returned.
Then the knocking began again.
By morning, a dozen families knew Clara had food.
By afternoon, nearly everyone did.
That was when fear became dangerous.
The Pattersons arrived.
Then the Millers.
Then an old man from East Hollow.
Then Silas Broome’s farmhand, asking whether Clara would trade flour for firewood.
She did.
Then another family offered eggs.
Another offered labor.
Clara accepted trade when people insisted.
Never required.
Caleb grew more tense with every visitor.
Finally, after sunset, he closed the door behind the last family and said:
“This stops.”
Clara turned from the table.
“What?”
“You have three sacks flour.”
“Two and half.”
“Worse.”
“Corn?”
“Less than one barrel.”
“Beans?”
“Six jars.”
“Meat?”
She looked away.
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
“You will be empty in ten days.”
“Then we find more.”
“Where?”
She said nothing.
“Mountain doesn’t care how kind you are.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then act like it.”
Clara’s temper rose.
“Do not come into my house and command me.”
He went still.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“So am I.”
“No.”
“You’re trying to keep everyone alive.”
“Someone has to.”
“Not you alone.”
“Then who?”