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getting an early start on dinner. Pretty soon the season would get too muggy, and she would have to move her cooking to the summer kitchen or overheat the cabin something fierce. About the only modern apparatus in sight were the four solar panels on the roof of the stillroom, and even they had seen better days. Otherwise, the place looked as rustic as a farm from the 1800s.
    They stopped at the corral. Kevin made an awkward jump from the saddle and stumbled. Loomis was heartened to see Gwen easily slide from the back of Tempest as if she did it every day. Maybe she used to ride horses before the plague. The small woman hobbled a bit on sore legs as she followed the corral fence around, leaving Lucky on the horse.
    Loomis reluctantly reached up to take the baby. “Rick, get over here and help.” While he assisted the mother down, Loomis cradled the child.
God, it weighs less than a feather. Are we too late to save it?
    “I’ll unsaddle the horses.” Rick took Tempest’s reins. “You want to get them up to the house?”
    “Yeah, I’ll do that.” Loomis gladly gave Lucky back her burden. She raised her voice to be heard by Gwen. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the others, and we can have some lunch.”
    At the thought of meeting new people, Kevin’s shoulders hunched and he returned to his taciturn state. Loomis wondered if maybe someone had beaten him to make him act so scared of encountering strangers. How bad had it been in the city? By the look of them, horrendous. Lucky limped on her stylish torture devices, hugging her baby to her chest. It looked like they would have to cut those sandals off, the way her feet were swollen around the straps.
    Loomis glanced back after a few steps. Gwen stared out at the sheep herd, an inscrutable expression on her face. “Gwen! Let’s go! There’s food at the house.” Gwen visibly shook herself and pushed away from the corral. Loomis waited for her to catch up. “We’ll heat some water for baths, probably in the summer kitchen, get you guys cleaned up, and doctored.”
    “Why are you doing this?” Gwen asked, her voice rough as if rusty from disuse.
    Frowning, Loomis stared at the ground as they walked. “I’ll admit it ain’t because I want to. But what I said back in the church stands. Our folks wouldn’t appreciate us throwing the lot of you to the wolves. It’s not right to treat people like trash, no matter what you might have against them.”
    “What did Dwayne Walker say to get you to agree to taking us in?”
    Loomis glanced sideways at her. Her expression was sober, and she seemed to really want to know. “He reminded me of my responsibilities to Lindsay Crossing.”
    Gwen nodded thoughtfully, not saying anything else.
    Being in close proximity, Loomis’s nose twitched from the rank scent they carried. Even if inviting them in was the polite thing to do, Cara wouldn’t thank her for the aroma. Most of the glass in the southern face of the cabin was for the greenhouse or passive solar heating. Not many windows actually opened to allow more than cross ventilation. On the other hand, Loomis didn’t want to insult these folks by bringing attention to their situation.
    As they passed the garden, an acre of raised beds that fed the family through the growing season, Lucky trailed to a stop. “These are tomatoes.” She caressed a plant leaf.
    Loomis almost saw her mouth water. “Yeah. We’ve got a lot of vegetables here. Come harvest we’ll spend a few days putting it up for winter, and start sprouting seedlings in the greenhouse. Keeps us in fresh vegetables for the cold months.” She reached past Lucky and pulled a spring ripe tomato from the vine. “Here. Take it.”
    Lucky gingerly took the fruit, raising it to her nose for a luxurious inhalation. “I’ve always loved tomatoes. My mama had a small garden in the backyard, and we’d have tomatoes all summer long.”
    Her delight was childlike, and it caused Loomis a moment of embarrassment, as