disappeared, and Olivia and Dawn left the cookhouse together.
"Does it hurt much?" Dawn asked quietly, glancing down at Olivia's leg.
"More than it did this morning," Olivia admitted.
"Are you sure you should be on it as much as you were today?"
Surprised and touched by the girl's concern, Olivia answered, "After a good night's sleep, it'll be fine."
Once they entered the house, Dawn said, "I'm going to unpack, then go to bed."
"You're more than welcome to watch TV and help yourself to anything in the kitchen," Olivia said.
"Thanks, but I'll pass tonight."
"There are towels in the linen closet at the end of the hall."
Dawn nodded. "Good night."
"Good night," Olivia echoed.
She heard a muffled clatter from the kitchen and hobbled over to the doorway. Her father was stirring something in a pan on the stove.
"Hey, Dad," Olivia said in greeting.
Startled, he turned toward her and put a hand over his heart. "Give your old man a heart attack, why don't you?" he teased.
She grinned, crossed the floor, and kissed his cheek. "You're as healthy as a horse."
His smile grew. "I've seen some pretty sick horses in my time."
She slapped his arm playfully, then leaned over the pan. "Tomato soup? I should've saved you some dinner from the cookhouse."
"Nah, this is fine. Sometimes I get a hankering for tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich." He shrugged as if embarrassed. "It reminds me of your mother."
Olivia studied her father for a moment, noticing for the first time the deeply etched lines in his brow and at the corners of his eyes. There was also something else, a sadness in the curve of his lips.
"You still miss her," she said, surprised.
He handed her the wooden spoon. "Here, make yourself useful."
Olivia stirred the soup as her father made a cheese sandwich and slapped it in a frying pan.
"I miss her every single day," he finally said. "It seems lately I've been missing her even more. It's been twenty-two years. You'd think it'd become less painful rather than more."
Tears pricked Olivia's eyes, and she blinked them back. Laying a hand on her father's arm, she said, "Maybe it's because you have more time to think about her than before you retired."
"Maybe." He flipped the sandwich over to grill the other side. "Or maybe I'm just getting maudlin in my old age."
Olivia managed a halfhearted smile. Ever since she'd come home after being assaulted, her father had been her rock. He was always there to listen and lend his shoulder to her tears, but now there seemed a subtle shift in their relationship. Perhaps she was finally opening her eyes and looking outward rather than focusing solely on herself.
"Do you want one, too?" her father asked, pointing at his sandwich.
"No thanks."
As he deposited the grilled cheese sandwich on a plate, Olivia put the heated soup in a bowl. She carried it to the table and set it down in front of him.
As her father ate his dinner, Olivia poured herself a glass of milk and joined him. She remembered the confrontation between Hank and Dawn, and Buck's warning.
"Something interesting happened at the cookhouse," she began.
Her father glanced up, an eyebrow arched in question. "It seems Dawn Williams is Hank Elliott's sister," Olivia said. "What?"
"Hank recognized her. Dawn didn't deny it, but there's no love lost between them. At least, not on Dawn's side. She said she was using her mother's maiden name so he couldn't find her."
Her father set his spoon down and placed his elbows on the table. His eyes narrowed. "Yet she ends up here?"
"According to her, it was all one big coincidence." She shook her head. "But I don't believe her."
"Do you think she'll be trouble?"
Olivia considered his question, using her instincts to guide her impression of the girl. "No, but I think she has some reason for finding him." She sighed. "She really laid into him about abandoning her. He seemed pretty shook up by her accusation."
Her father scowled. "Elliott doesn't deserve that."
"But he did
"Does it hurt much?" Dawn asked quietly, glancing down at Olivia's leg.
"More than it did this morning," Olivia admitted.
"Are you sure you should be on it as much as you were today?"
Surprised and touched by the girl's concern, Olivia answered, "After a good night's sleep, it'll be fine."
Once they entered the house, Dawn said, "I'm going to unpack, then go to bed."
"You're more than welcome to watch TV and help yourself to anything in the kitchen," Olivia said.
"Thanks, but I'll pass tonight."
"There are towels in the linen closet at the end of the hall."
Dawn nodded. "Good night."
"Good night," Olivia echoed.
She heard a muffled clatter from the kitchen and hobbled over to the doorway. Her father was stirring something in a pan on the stove.
"Hey, Dad," Olivia said in greeting.
Startled, he turned toward her and put a hand over his heart. "Give your old man a heart attack, why don't you?" he teased.
She grinned, crossed the floor, and kissed his cheek. "You're as healthy as a horse."
His smile grew. "I've seen some pretty sick horses in my time."
She slapped his arm playfully, then leaned over the pan. "Tomato soup? I should've saved you some dinner from the cookhouse."
"Nah, this is fine. Sometimes I get a hankering for tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich." He shrugged as if embarrassed. "It reminds me of your mother."
Olivia studied her father for a moment, noticing for the first time the deeply etched lines in his brow and at the corners of his eyes. There was also something else, a sadness in the curve of his lips.
"You still miss her," she said, surprised.
He handed her the wooden spoon. "Here, make yourself useful."
Olivia stirred the soup as her father made a cheese sandwich and slapped it in a frying pan.
"I miss her every single day," he finally said. "It seems lately I've been missing her even more. It's been twenty-two years. You'd think it'd become less painful rather than more."
Tears pricked Olivia's eyes, and she blinked them back. Laying a hand on her father's arm, she said, "Maybe it's because you have more time to think about her than before you retired."
"Maybe." He flipped the sandwich over to grill the other side. "Or maybe I'm just getting maudlin in my old age."
Olivia managed a halfhearted smile. Ever since she'd come home after being assaulted, her father had been her rock. He was always there to listen and lend his shoulder to her tears, but now there seemed a subtle shift in their relationship. Perhaps she was finally opening her eyes and looking outward rather than focusing solely on herself.
"Do you want one, too?" her father asked, pointing at his sandwich.
"No thanks."
As he deposited the grilled cheese sandwich on a plate, Olivia put the heated soup in a bowl. She carried it to the table and set it down in front of him.
As her father ate his dinner, Olivia poured herself a glass of milk and joined him. She remembered the confrontation between Hank and Dawn, and Buck's warning.
"Something interesting happened at the cookhouse," she began.
Her father glanced up, an eyebrow arched in question. "It seems Dawn Williams is Hank Elliott's sister," Olivia said. "What?"
"Hank recognized her. Dawn didn't deny it, but there's no love lost between them. At least, not on Dawn's side. She said she was using her mother's maiden name so he couldn't find her."
Her father set his spoon down and placed his elbows on the table. His eyes narrowed. "Yet she ends up here?"
"According to her, it was all one big coincidence." She shook her head. "But I don't believe her."
"Do you think she'll be trouble?"
Olivia considered his question, using her instincts to guide her impression of the girl. "No, but I think she has some reason for finding him." She sighed. "She really laid into him about abandoning her. He seemed pretty shook up by her accusation."
Her father scowled. "Elliott doesn't deserve that."
"But he did
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