The scent of roasted beef and herbs filled the cabin.
Outside, Elias was chopping wood.
He had already split enough for three days.
But he was angry.
Angry at Caleb.
Angry at the forged letters.
Angry that an innocent woman had been dragged into a dispute over land.
Angry that he had been powerless to stop the town from laughing.
He lifted the axe again.
Then paused.
Something drifted through the cold air.
He lowered the blade.
Roasted beef.
Onions.
Fresh bread.
He stared toward the house.
For a moment, he wondered whether his imagination had betrayed him.
He had not smelled cooking like that since his mother died.
He set the axe aside.
Brushed snow from his shoulders.
And walked toward the cabin.
When he opened the door, warm steam rolled toward him.
Lara stood beside the stove.
She was lifting the lid from the Dutch oven.
Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and loose strands of chestnut hair framed her face.
The enormous pot bubbled with rich brown stew.
She looked up.
“Oh.”
Elias stared.
“What are you doing?”
She smiled shyly.
“Cooking supper.”
“With what?”
“Your pantry.”
He looked toward the shelves.
“That pantry barely has anything.”
She laughed softly.
“Enough for two hungry people.”
His gaze moved from the stew to the bread.
Then to her face.
“You made all this?”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer.
The smell brought back memories he had buried for years.
His mother's kitchen.
A warm table.
Laughter.
A home that had been more than walls.
Lara handed him a bowl.
“Would you like to try it?”
He sat.
Lifted the spoon.
And tasted the stew.
Then stopped moving.
Lara's smile faded.
“Is something wrong?”
He shook his head.
“Too salty?”
“No.”
“Too much pepper?”
“No.”
She leaned forward anxiously.
“Then what?”
He looked into the bowl.
For several seconds, he could not speak.
Finally he whispered, “I haven't tasted anything like this since my mother died.”
Lara's expression changed.
“Oh.”
He took another bite.
Then another.
She sat across from him.
And for the first time that evening, the cabin felt occupied by two people rather than haunted by one.
Chapter 3: The First Warmth
They ate quietly at first.
Then Elias asked where she had learned to cook.
Lara told him about her mother.
About the French immigrant cook who had taught her to make inexpensive ingredients taste luxurious.
About years spent working in Boston kitchens.