Etched in Bone
Page 99

All in all, considering the number of humans who were allowed to eat or purchase foods that came from the Courtyard’s land or from the terra indigene farms that supplied the things that weren’t grown, gathered, or caught right here, no one felt a real lack. Sure, some foods weren’t always available, depending on the success of a hunt or when the supply of flour reached Lakeside, but there was always something to eat.
That was part of the change at Meat-n-Greens and A Little Bite. Nadine’s Bakery & Café made foods for breakfast and lunch, and Tess would sell those foods in the coffee shop until she ran out. Then it was just coffee and other drinks. Meat-n-Greens had changed to providing food for lunch and throughout the afternoon, but patrons were expected to pick up their order when it was ready and clean up after themselves. In the evening, the place still acted more like a human restaurant with servers. In that way, terra indigene guests had a chance to experience several ways of eating in a human establishment.
All good things, when thinking of the Lakeside Courtyard as a place for advanced training in human interactions. But every day, humans still did things that were just peculiar. Like today. Having heard that there were no more turkey leftovers, he went into the kitchen area and offered to dump the turkey carcass where critters would find it so that it wouldn’t go to waste. Eve and Nadine had told him they were making turkey soup and he should keep his paws off the carcass until they were done with it.
He should have reminded them that he was their employer and they shouldn’t speak to him that way, but he’d been hungry and outnumbered and there had been too many sharp knives and pointy utensils within their reach.
He would talk to them later—or send a memo.
Making his way to the door, Simon noticed Lieutenant Montgomery, who had also stopped in for lunch. Something must have caught the human’s attention, because he took a step back from the door in order to remain unseen. Simon hurried to join him.
“You do not want to go out there right now,” Montgomery said. He held out an arm to block the door.
“Why? What’s going on?” Simon scanned the open area of the Market Square but saw nothing alarming. In fact, when Simon considered voice rather than actions, Montgomery seemed amused.
“Negotiations.” Montgomery pointed a finger at Miss Twyla, who was sitting on a bench eating an ice cream cone, and Skippy, who was chasing a bowl of ice cream until he finally pushed the bowl against one of Miss Twyla’s feet. Since her legs were crossed at the knee, the other foot dangled.
“Roo-roo.” Skippy planted a paw on Miss Twyla’s dangling foot and tried to pull it down so he could wedge the bowl between her feet instead of chasing it.
“No,” Miss Twyla said mildly.
“Roo-roo!” Skippy batted at her foot, more insistent.
“You can ‘Grandma’ me all you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you can hold that bowl by yourself. Miss Meg showed you how.”
“Roo?” Skippy looked around.
“She’s not here.” Miss Twyla licked her ice cream. “You just sit yourself down and put your own paws around the bowl.”
“Oh,” Montgomery breathed. “He’s going to try the ‘I’m too helpless to do this’ routine.”
Skippy did look pathetic, pushing at the bowl with one paw while the ice cream rapidly melted.
“We could go out and help him,” Simon said.
“You could do that. Of course, you’ll have to get around Mama now that she’s decided Skippy can do it himself.”
“But when we all had dinner the other night, she cut up his food, helped him eat.”
“The other night he needed help. This he can do by himself.” Montgomery studied him, openly curious. “Do you continue to feed your young once they’re old enough to do for themselves?”
“Of course not. They have to learn to hunt, as well as learn to protect their share of the food.” Simon considered what Montgomery was asking. “Doesn’t mean juveniles won’t act like puppies sometimes and try to coax an adult into giving them an easy meal.”
“Not much different from humans that age. How often do your adults give in?”
When Simon didn’t answer, Montgomery grinned. “That’s what I thought. I guess Wolves and my mama have some things in common when it comes to raising children.”
Put that way, it explained why the Wolves treated Miss Twyla more like one of their own than like a human.
They watched Skippy flop down and put his front paws around the bowl. He gave the remaining ice cream a lick, then looked at Miss Twyla.
Montgomery laughed softly. “Oh, there are the big sad eyes. Lizzy tries that look on me every so often. Hard for me to say no to that look, even when I know giving in would be bad for both of us, but Mama is made of sterner stuff. Every grandkid has tried that look, and every grandkid has failed.”
They stood in the doorway, watching, until Miss Twyla turned her head and looked right at them.
“Are you two going to keep gawking, or are you going to get some work done?”
“That’s our cue,” Montgomery said under his breath before he raised his voice enough to be heard. “We were just leaving, Mama.”
Simon strode out of the Market Square with Montgomery but said nothing until they were out of sight. “I am the leader of the Courtyard. I’m the one who makes decisions.”
“Yes, you are.” Montgomery waited a beat. “You going to tell her that?”