Gradually the storm passed and she slept without dreaming. The next morning she woke to the first ray of light through the window. She dressed hurriedly in the clothes Sarah had loaned her and ran fingers through her hair, wishing she had a comb. Finally she achieved some semblance of order and left the room.
Breakfast was on the table when she entered the dining room. Giddon and his daughter were already seated. Sarah entered the room carrying a pan of steaming biscuits. She smiled warmly.
"Sit down and have breakfast with us."
Lisa hesitated. She was intruding, but it soon became obvious that Sarah wasn't going to sit down until everyone else was seated. She slid into the chair across from Tammy, and Sarah sat down at the other end of the table. After a moment of thanks, they all began their meal.
For the first time since the accident, Lisa felt hungry. She ate in silence, wondering how she could manage the hike to the car. Surely it couldn't be as bad as Giddon had indicated. Childhood excursions had taught her that the country was rough, but was she up to ten miles of walking? She had grown soft in five years of city life.
Giddon was silent, giving all his attention to his food, but Tammy watched Lisa with interest, twirling her fork in her eggs and squirming in her chair.
Lisa winked at her and Tammy ducked her head, smiling shyly. Her mischievous blue eyes sought her father first and then her grandmother to make sure they were not watching before she made a face at Lisa.
The movement caught Giddon's attention and he glanced from Tammy to Lisa with a puzzled expression. His expression became thoughtful as he watched his mother gazing absently out the window.
"It's going to be a beautiful day," Sarah said as she turned her attention back to her food. "I think I'll work in the garden for a while, after I get my chores done."
Giddon frowned. "Forget the house. Go enjoy yourself."
Sarah threw him a stern look. "Now son, the house won't clean itself."
Giddon turned his attention to Lisa. "Are you ready?" He asked gruffly.
The hostility in his voice and expression was unnerving. Maybe he regretted extending the offer of help. She started to rise from her chair. "Yes. I . . . If you'll just point the way, I'll be glad to go by myself. There is no need to put you out further."
His laugh was short and harsh. "You wouldn't get two miles into those woods before you were lost."