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We ate in relative silence, but finally did exchange names. Hers was Julia.After we finished our meal and I got myself a pipe to suck on, we did talk a bit. Her husband had been a farmer and a part-time preacher and school teacher who had joined up after the British left Boston. She had come along with him since they had no children and were tenant farming, living in a rented house I suppose. She said she had enjoyed the army life for a few months but found the recent retreat frightening and the sad treatment of wounded men just awful. She said she had spent a lot of time working with the medics.Then she went to her room, and I went to the stable to see to the horses and bed down in a stall resisting the temptation the buxom barmaid offered for just a couple of shillings. In the morning we crossed the deep stream and then headed for the wandering Quinnapac River. The road was good and well marked, and I think we were just south of Wallingford when we got ambushed. I guess I was kind. Luckily, she had her files with her in her van. They used that as a framework and began structuring the recent history of the family.Since Cain had married into the family, he didn’t have a big part in this project. He was asked to help with the kids, and to help with the archives if needed. Brenda caught his eye at one point in this conversation, but he couldn't read her expression.After breakfast, Cain organized the kids to do the dishes and clean the kitchen while the adults and teens got to work. The kids decided to make a game of it and pretend that he was the King, and they were the servants. Cain had to tell them what to do but use the royal "we.” If he forgot, then he had to do whatever it was.“Rose,” Cain said, affecting a royal drawl while addressing Ellie’s younger sister, “Err, we would be most appreciative if you would consider putting all of the baking supplies in the cupboard. Thank you!” He bowed formally.“Dearest Emily, would you be so kind as to sweep our floor?.
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