Free Audrey and the Maverick by Elaine Levine

Malcolm’s gone.”
    Luc braced himself on his elbows and looked at Mabel as her words slowly sank in. He ripped off his blanket and went into the main room. He looked on the other side of the bed. He looked under the kitchen table. He opened the front door and looked outside. Mabel followed him. The breeze made strange moaning sounds as it blew around their little house. Mabel put her hand in Luc’s.
    “What’re we gonna do?” she whispered, gazing up at him.
    Luc’s hand tightened around hers as he looked at her, his lips pressed thin. “He’ll be back, you’ll see.”
    “People don’t come back.”
    “Sometimes they do. Audrey will. She said she would.”
    “Who will feed us tomorrow, Luc?”
    “If Malcolm isn’t back in the morning, I’ll feed you. And if he’s not here tomorrow night, we’ll make a plan. Maybe he just went for a walk.” He turned her back to the house. “You better get to bed. You don’t want the others to wake up and see you missing. I’ll wait up a while for Malcolm.”
    “Luc?”
    “What?”
    “I love you.” He didn’t answer her. The look he gave her made her feel sadder.
    “Everything’s gonna be okay, Mabel. I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you. Or the others.”

Chapter 9
    Audrey was up early the next morning, even before the camp roosters. She dressed quietly and left the small cabin, leaving Amy Lynn still soundly asleep. She met Jenkins at the cookhouse. He had the stove stoked already.
    “Get the fry pan, girl. We’re going to make refried beans this morning.”
    “No. Show me where the smokehouse is. I want some bacon. And I need to see the chicken coop to get eggs. And the keeping house for some milk and butter.”
    “There’s no need for that. I made plenty enough beans last night to refry for this morning. Do as I say, girl.”
    Audrey set her hands on her hips and switched to the voice she used for recalcitrant children. “Mr. Jenkins, this is my kitchen now. If you won’t show me the smokehouse, I will find it myself. I have a lot to do before being able to serve breakfast and no time to spend arguing with you about this.”
    “So that’s how it is, is it? Well then, it’s your hide if there’s trouble to be had for wasting food. Smokehouse is this way.” He walked through camp, cutting through the neat rows of white tents, grousing all the while about women and their notions. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was enough light to see without a lantern. Audrey set her shoulders and followed him, ignoring the men who angrily poked their heads outside their tents to see what the commotion was about.
    The smokehouse was a treasure trove. There were several ham haunches hanging, strips of beef drying, a barrel of curing beef briskets. For a moment, she couldn’t collect her thoughts. Her family had been starving while this little smokehouse was filled to the gills with foodstuffs. It didn’t seem fair. She took a slab of bacon, wrapped it in a bit of burlap she found nearby, and handed it to Jenkins.
    Next was the chicken coop. She woke the sleeping fowl, causing them to raise a ruckus as she dug for fresh eggs. She took down a wire basket hanging on a peg and easily filled it with a dozen eggs, which she handed to Jenkins. Next was the keeping house. Set deeply into the north side of a hill near the river, it was dark and cold inside. Jenkins set the eggs down and lit a small lamp near the door. Audrey walked down the steps into the dim interior. She found a can of yesterday’s milk and a crock of butter. Taking the butter, she handed the milk to Jenkins, climbed back up the steps, put the lamp out, and stepped outside.
    “What now, missy? Don’t think I can hold much more,” Jenkins muttered, adjusting the bacon, eggs, and milk in his arms.
    “Now we cook.” They walked back through the sea of tents, Audrey in the lead. Awakened earlier, some of the men watched them go by, a few of them grinning as they saw how burdened Jenkins