Norah's hands paused for just a second before continuing.
"Well, we're fixing that tonight."
She worked quickly, efficiently.
The muscle memory of years spent in kitchens coming back like breathing.
The beans were seasoned and set to simmer properly.
Salt pork was diced and fried until crispy.
Vegetables were chopped and added to everything, bulking out the portions.
She found flour and started biscuits, working the dough with practiced hands while keeping everything else going simultaneously.
The boys drifted in and out, pretending they had other things to do, but really watching her work.
Even Cade, who'd been so skeptical earlier, lingered by the doorway longer than necessary.
"You really worked in a dress shop?" Eli asked at one point.
"For six years. Made everything from work dresses to wedding gowns."
Norah shaped another biscuit.
"Why?"
"Just seems weird. Going from fancy dresses to this."
He gestured vaguely at the kitchen, the house, the whole situation.
"Life's weird," Norah said. "You adjust or you don't. Those are the options."
Eli considered this, then nodded and disappeared back outside.
As the sun began setting, the smell of real food filled the house for the first time in months.
Norah set the table herself.
Proper settings.
Everything in its place.
Then called the boys in.
They came slowly, uncertain, like they didn't quite believe what was happening.
"Sit," Norah instructed.
They sat.
She served each of them generous portions, the kind that said, you matter.
You're worth feeding properly.
Ru got extra because he was so small.
Thomas got extra because he was still growing and working like a man.
Everyone got biscuits hot from the oven.
For a moment, nobody moved.
They just stared at the food.
"Well," Norah prompted. "It won't eat itself."
Thomas picked up his fork first.
Took a bite.
His expression shifted.
Surprise.
Then something else.
Something that looked dangerously close to relief.
"It's good," he said quietly.
The other boys dug in.
Within seconds, the only sound was eating.
Not polite.
Not refined.
But hungry and genuine.
Norah watched them and felt something loosen in her chest.
This was what they needed.
Not perfection.
Not someone to replace what they'd lost.
Just someone who gave a damn enough to try.
She was plating her own food when the front door opened.
Every boy went still.
Harlon Greer stepped inside.
Norah's first thought was that he looked exactly like the land he worked.