Free Stranger by Sherwood Smith Page B

light of early morning. He drank the water by the bed, then went downstairs. He could smell tortillas and savory aromas that he didn’t recognize.
    A man stood cooking at an iron stove as the mewing cats wove around his ankles. He was short and solid, with salt-and-pepper hair in a ponytail and a round, pleasant face like Mia’s.
    â€œI didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. That is, good morning. I’m Dante Lee, the doctor.” Dr. Lee’s smile was like Mia’s too. “Welcome to Las Anclas.”
    â€œI’m Ross Juarez.”
    Mia wandered in, her eyes bloodshot and her hair standing up in tufts. She stepped out of her shoes, leaving them by the door.
    â€œGood morning, Mia,” Dr. Lee said. “Yesterday’s clothes, I see.”
    â€œThey are?” Mia blinked at her overalls in vague surprise.
    â€œBeen up all night continuing your passionate affair with the generator?”
    â€œNope.” Mia gave Ross a mischievous glance. “Found something new.”
    Her father laughed and waved his spatula. “Ah! Young love.” He returned to flipping tortillas.
    Ross had never seen a father and daughter talking like that. Was this how families normally behaved? His last memory of his father alive was a view from up high, as he’d sat securely perched on his father’s broad shoulders and clutched handfuls of his rough black hair.
    â€œRoss?” He jumped, the voice startling him out of memory, his good forearm coming up in a block.
    â€œThe silverware?” Mia pointed to a basket on the sideboard. “Sooner the table is set, the sooner we eat.”
    His face burned. But no one commented as he helped set the table, watching Mia carefully to see how everything was supposed to be laid out.
    Dr. Lee brought over a platter of food. He had rolled scrambled eggs—eggs!—beans, fresh tomatoes, and salsa up into burritos. Ross’s mouth watered. Wild birds usually either laid poisonous eggs or nested on branches too thin to bear a predator’s weight. Months earlier, he had managed to get a gamy roadrunner egg. He hadn’t had a fresh hen’s egg since . . . The image of his father came to him again, though no memory came with it. Since he was a little kid, he supposed.
    â€œI have trade goods,” he began.
    Mia shook her head vigorously. “You’re our guest.”
    Dr. Lee gave his daughter a surprised glance, then smiled at him. “Welcome to Las Anclas,” he said again.
    â€œThank you so much for the eggs, Dr. Lee. Oh. And for saving my life,” Ross added hastily.
    Dr. Lee accepted his thanks, then tapped the platter with his fork. “Dig in.”
    It was the first hot meal Ross had had in more than a week. He was too hungry to savor it until he’d wolfed down half his burrito. But after that, the eggs were as good as he’d imagined. So were the warm biscuits with fresh butter and sweet, nutty mesquite syrup. The side dish of tangy purple stuff was delicious too. As he polished it off, Ross had the sense that he was being stared at. He met Mia’s fascinated gaze.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou liked Dad’s eggplant–goat cheese kimchi?” She indicated the purple stain on his plate.
    â€œFantastic.”
    â€œOur guest has good taste,” Dr. Lee observed triumphantly.
    â€œDad likes to experiment.” Mia looked down at her own kimchi. “Want another helping?”
    â€œSure you don’t want it?”
    â€œMore fun to watch you eat it.” Giving a teasing look to her father, she tipped her kimchi onto Ross’s plate.
    Ross inhaled half of it before he remembered that there were other important things beside food. “Dr. Lee, is whatever you used to heal me something I can trade for?”
    â€œUnfortunately, no.”
    He paused, a forkful of eggplant halfway to his mouth. Dr. Lee seemed to be hinting at a Change power, and the sheriff had been