"That's not what I asked."
Cade's eyes narrowed.
"You've been here two days. You don't get to interrogate me."
"You're right. I've been here two days, which means I don't know all the rules yet about what I can and can't ask. So I'm asking anyway."
Norah set down her mending.
"Where do you go, Cade?"
For a long moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he slumped against the doorframe.
"Town," he admitted. "I trade stuff for money."
"What kind of stuff?"
"Whatever I can find. Tools Pa doesn't use anymore. Scrap metal. Sometimes eggs if the chickens are laying."
Norah's chest tightened.
"Does your father know?"
"No. And you can't tell him."
"Why not?"
"Because he'll lose his mind. He barely holds it together as it is."
Cade's voice dropped.
"The money I get helps. I give it to Thomas. Tell him I found it. He uses it to buy supplies. If Pa knew I was selling ranch stuff, he'd... he'd stop me. He'd think I was stealing. Betraying him."
"Are you?"
"I'm trying to help."
Cade's face twisted.
"But no one ever sees it that way. They just see someone taking things that don't belong to him."
Norah studied the boy in front of her.
Twelve years old.
Trying to save his family the only way he knew how.
Convinced everyone would hate him if they knew the truth.
"Bring whatever you were planning to trade next time," she said. "I'll look at it first. Make sure it's actually something that won't be missed. And we'll keep a record of what you take and what you make, so if your father ever asks, we can show him it wasn't stealing. It was smart."
Cade stared at her.
"You're not going to tell Pa?"
"Not unless you want me to. But Cade, this can't be a permanent solution. Eventually, you're going to run out of things to trade."
"I know."
His voice was small.
"I just don't know what else to do."
"That's what tonight's meeting is for. To figure it out together instead of everyone running off in different directions."
Cade nodded slowly, then disappeared back outside before anyone could see him talking to her.
Norah returned to her mending, but her hands shook slightly.
Two days here, and she'd already uncovered family secrets, stopped a fight, and forced a meeting that might explode in everyone's faces.
Maybe Harlon was right.
Maybe she couldn't fix this.
But she'd be damned if she didn't try.
Supper was quieter than the night before.
Everyone could feel the meeting coming like a storm on the horizon.
Norah had made stew from the last of the vegetables and some questionable meat she'd found in the smokehouse.
It wasn't her best work, but it was hot and filling.
The boys ate quickly, like they wanted to get it over with.
Harlon ate slowly, like he was delaying the inevitable.
When the dishes were cleared, no one moved to leave.
They all just sat there, waiting for someone else to start.
Norah poured coffee for the adults, water for the younger boys.
Then she sat down at the opposite end of the table from Harlon.
"All right," she said. "Who wants to go first?"
Silence.
No one.
"Fine. I'll start."
Norah looked around the table.