As she woke and rolled over on the lumpy living room couch, a thick, soft blackness had engulfed her—the kind of true dark that never fell upon her parents’ house in town. She’d no idea of the time or how long she’d been asleep. Her stomach let out a seismic growl. After a long day of carpentry, pie baking, and rolling in the hay, she never ate a proper supper. Now, she needed a snack.

She had lit a candle, tiptoed to the kitchen, and scoured the cupboards for junk food. What she found in the fridge was far better. Their partially eaten pie glowed heavenly blue in the refrigerator light. Pie again at—she opened the door wider, illuminating the wall clock—almost midnight? How scandalous! How decadent! She’d whip up some fresh cream, and her treat would be complete.

Certain she’d seen Jonas retrieve an eggbeater from a top drawer, she yanked it and pawed through the contents. No dice. She slid it shut and grabbed the handle below.

With a click and a squeak, the front door opened.

“Hey,” she hissed. “No milking cows in the middle of the night. Go back to bed, you goof. I’ll bring you a treat.”

No answer came.

In the brief hush, she thought she heard an engine rev and a car pull away. Clearly suffering hunger-induced hallucinations, she plunged a hand into the second drawer. “Where did you put the eggbeater?”

Quick, uneven footsteps tapped across the living room floor.

A chill wind raced up her legs and under her borrowed shirt. She froze. “Jonas?” Met with silence so loud it practically screamed, she turned.

Fully shrouded in a black bonnet and layers of traveling clothes, Nora stood, bag in hand, scowling.

Tessa clutched the collar of Jonas’s shirt around her neck. Blood pounded in her ears. “Nora…you’re back.”

The bag thudded to the floor. Nora marched into the kitchen and ignited the overhead lamp.

The light felt like an assault. Tessa shielded her eyes.

Keeping the table between them, Nora gripped a chair back and glared. “Get out of my kitchen.”

Stunned and immobile, a trespasser in Nora’s most private sanctuary, Tessa felt more naked than if she wore nothing at all. Shame blazed across her cheeks. “Of course,” she whispered, groping for the gadget drawer. Now thoroughly jumbled, the drawer jammed. She leaned into it with one hip, and a metal cherry pitter popped free and crashed to the floor. She scrambled to retrieve it just as Jonas’s heavy steps echoed down the stairs.

“Did you hear a car?” he said through a yawn. “I thought I heard a car.”

He’d tossed a shirt over his shoulders, but his hair was tousled and his eyes heavy with sleep. When his gaze landed on his sister’s back, he pulled up short. The soft, drowsy lines on his face turned to stone.