11
Fort Daniels, 24 February 1871
Claire and Patrick didn’t converse as he walked her back to the general’s house. He only said a quick goodbye and remained outside as she used her key to go in the front door. She said goodnight and slipped inside, where savory odors of onion, beef, and rosemary drew her into the kitchen. A loaf of bread sat on the table, and Mrs. Soper stood at the stove and stirred something in a large pot. Claire braced herself, not sure what, if any, trouble she’d be in for coming in so late to dinner. Her mother and aunt had kept to a strict “kitchen closed after seven” policy.
“There you are!” Mrs. Soper turned and gave Claire a bright white smile that melted her anxiety like a pat of butter on a hot biscuit. The woman wasn’t angry. In fact, Mrs. Soper was happy t
