Luke turned Razor loose in the corral and headed for his house, sniffing appreciatively as he stepped up on the porch. He opened the door, calling, "Mark, what are you cooking?"
His son was at the table, working on his school books, and he smiled as his father came in. "It's not me, Pa. It's her."
Anyata was at the stove, stirring a pot. "I will cook. My father needs good food to be well again."
Luke pushed his hat back on his head. "Mark's a good cook. So am I."
"That's true, Miss Anyata. Pa has a real touch with cornbread. Even some of the womenfolk come to get his recipe." Mark flushed at the look from his father and went back to his studies.
Anyata looked at Mark and her face softened. "He cooks well," she conceded. "I cook better. I go to the wagon today to get spices and other things my father likes. He is old and wishes the food he is used to."
"Well…" Luke considered, then said, "We don't ask guests to work but if it'll help your father I guess it's all right." He looked sternly at Mark. "You still have to wash the dishes."
"Oh, Pa…"
There was a call from the bedroom and Anyata handed the spoon to Luke. "You may stir." She went to her father.
Mark snickered and Luke scowled at him, then went over to the pot. A thick beef stew red with spice was simmering and he took a cautious taste. His eyes watered but he smacked his lips. "That's really good!"
Anyata came back and took the spoon. "You were to stir, not taste. Is not ready yet."
"What do you call it?"
"Goulash. What you call beef stew, only good."
Luke bit back a smile. "Would it be even better with biscuits?"
"Do you know how to make biscuits?"
"I've been known to whip up a few in my time."
"Very well." Anyata tasted the stew. "This is done. I will sit with my father now."
She went into the bedroom and Mark asked, "Pa, was my mother that bossy in the kitchen?"
"Worse. She wouldn't even let me make biscuits." Luke smiled, a far-off look in his eyes. "We did wash the dishes together, though." He shook himself. "Finish your homework, son."
After supper Mark started the dishes. Anyata shook her head when Luke reached for a dish towel. "My father will speak to you now."
"All right." The big man dropped the towel and went into the bedroom, smiling down at the old man. "How are you feeling, Yule?"
The old man pushed himself up in the bed. His face was lined and his hair was white, his eyes as dark and fierce as his daughter's. He said something and she came to his side.
"He knows no English. I will tell how he says." Anyata spoke swiftly to her father and he replied. "He wishes to thank for your care."
"Tell him I am grateful for his thanks, and for the opportunity to repay my debt."
Anyata and her father had a longer exchange. "I have told your story. My father says there is no debt." Yule spoke again. "My father says he has concern. I told him of what the lawman said. My father worries for your trouble."
"There's no trouble." Luke said firmly, "It's not the first time I've had a disagreement with my neighbors. Everything will be just fine."