Page 47 of Down Knot Out
Compassion blooms in Chloe’s expression, followed by a shadow of sadness as she places theframe back where she found it. When she turns to me, questions fill her eyes, her never-ending curiosity wanting the story. But she doesn’t ask, respecting the boundary of Emily’s privacy. She has no knowledge of the circumstances, but she knows there’s sorrow behind the story.
Warmth blooms in my chest. Most people would keep asking, but Chloe doesn’t. She knows what it means to carry loss and respects that people share their pain when they’re ready. In that moment, I love her even more, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms.
Instead, I guide her to the table, pulling out a chair. The wood is smooth beneath my fingers, polished by years of touch.
Emily returns carrying a basket draped with a flour-sack towel adorned with stitched yellow chicks around the edges. Steam rises when she pulls the fabric back, revealing dense, rustic rounds of bread, the crust golden-brown and dusted with flour.
“It’s just soda bread.” She places the basket on the table. “Nothing fancy.”
“It smells amazing.” Chloe leans forward, nose twitching as she inhales.
Her eyelashes flutter, pleasure softening her features. The haunted look that has shadowed hersince Simon’s appearance recedes, if only for the moment.
Emily’s features shift, the hard lines around her mouth easing as she watches Chloe for a few heartbeats before she returns to the kitchen.
The clink of pottery and the soft pad of Emily’s footsteps fill the silence. I take the seat beside Chloe, close enough that our shoulders brush.
Emily returns with the bowl of a crock-pot held between two oven mitts. She sets it on a waiting trivet.
“Irish stew,” she explains, reaching for Chloe’s bowl to fill it first. “Been cooking all day.”
She fills my bowl next, and my stomach rumbles at the chunks of lamb, potatoes, carrots, and onions, the broth thick and fragrant with rosemary and thyme. “This looks incredible.”
Emily gives a dismissive shrug as she takes her seat, but I catch the pleased quirk of her lips. “Eat while it’s hot.”
We fall into silence as we begin the meal. The bread is dense and hearty, perfect for soaking up the savory broth. A small sound of pleasure escapes Chloe as she takes her first bite, and I catch Emily watching her with satisfaction.
“How was the job site today?” I ask after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable quiet.
Emily snorts, reaching for her water glass. “We’re playing catch-up. Again.” She tears a piece of bread, using it to gesture. “And our thief hasn’t returned. But we’ll hit the deadline, so hurry up with your plans for Phase Two. We’ll be on to the fitness center in no time.”
“Can’t rush art,” I sniff.
“Yeah,” she snorts. “Tell that to Nathaniel.”
I grumble and stuff another spoonful of stew into my mouth.
Chloe slathers butter onto her bread. “How did you return to the mainland with the water taxi down for the night?”
“Caught a ride on the delivery boat bringing in stone for the hardscaping.” Emily takes a bite of stew and chews before continuing. “Some of the crew had to bunk down on the island for the night. They weren’t happy about it.”
Emily typically leads by example, often working longer hours than anyone else. “Why didn’t you stay?”
She gestures around us. “Left the crock-pot on. Didn’t want to burn the house down.”
“I’m glad you came back.” Chloe breathes in deeply. “This is delicious.”
Emily’s cheeks warm, and she clears her throat, focusing intently on her food.
“Your house is beautiful.” Chloe takes in the space, her attention moving from the carved mantle to the window boxes outside. “It’s so cozy and safe.”
The words land with unexpected weight. Emily’s spoon stills in her bowl, her focus on a wedge of potato. Pain flickers across her face, and her throat works before she dips her chin once, then returns to eating.
Sensing the shift in mood, Chloe tenses beside me, and I squeeze her thigh under the table in gentle reassurance. It’s not her fault. Emily’s wounds are old ones, cut deep by circumstances Chloe knows nothing about.
Chloe places her hand over mine, squeezing once before reaching for another piece of bread. “This soda bread is amazing. I could eat the entire basket.”
“Take as much as you want.” Emily’s offer comes out gruff. “Plenty more in the kitchen.”
