Page 56 of Sword of Rage
“I made soup.” She pointed to the pot behind her, hanging over the low fire.
He grabbed a bowl and scooped himself a large helping. Sitting on a stool across from her at the kitchen table, he started eating. After a few bites, he said, “I thought you’d be asleep by now. It’s after midnight.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Exhaustion consumed her bones, but she couldn’t make herself move.
“You look better,” he said around a mouthful of food.
“I can’t believe you let me walk into my mother’s home looking like a servant.”
“You know, this soup isn’t half bad.” He took another bite, then asked, “How long were you and Lyle married?”
“Not long, but long enough.” She propped her chin on her hands. “Are you done looking through everything?”
“I am.”
“And?”
He took a bite of soup before answering. “I found a few letters between Lyle and his father. I’m taking them with us. It is for Owen to decide what he wants to do with the information.”
“In your opinion, did Beck have something to do with the takeover?”
His eyes darkened, and he focused on his soup. “I believe so. But I don’t have anything concrete.”
She wanted him to extrapolate, but he didn’t.
“You’re different here.” He finished his soup, setting his spoon in the bowl.
“How so?”
“You’re quiet. More reserved.”
She hadn’t realized that. Standing, she picked up the bowls, taking them over to the counter to clean.
“Is there a room I can sleep in?”
A laugh escaped her lips at the idea of another man spending the night in Lyle’s house.
Ackley’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s that look for?” she asked, leading him out of the kitchen and to the staircase.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh.” They went up to the second floor. “It’s good to see you smile.”
Her face warmed at the compliment. “You can sleep in here.” She stopped before the door on the left. “I’ll be in the room to your right.”
“Is that the bedchamber you shared with Lyle?”
“No. It’s a guest room.”
“Can I see Lyle’s bedchamber?”
“This way.” She led him down the hallway and to the right. “In here.” She opened the door.
He stepped inside and went over to the fireplace. Kneeling, he started to build a fire. Harley sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.
“Since you’re so young,” he said as he worked, “will you remarry?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. In the dim candlelight, she could just make out the smirk he gave her before he said, “After all, a woman needs a man to survive.”
“Are you teasing me?” It was late, and she was too tired to deal with his jokes. The wood crackled as the fire took. “And why did you make a fire when no one is sleeping in here tonight?”
