“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. I just…I have a lot on my mind already and…it’s just…when I heard about your family and—and the Raggers—I just felt like everything I’d done—or tried to do—was a waste of time.”

“It ambushes me too,” Han said. “It’s like getting run over by an oxcart.”

“How do you even stand it?” She studied his face like she really wanted to know.

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” He shrugged, thinking that, in a way, it helped to share the secret eating at him. It was like lancing a boil—it relieved the pain and pressure. “But I’m not lying down for it. That’s why I’m here. For next time.”

She frowned, biting her lip. “What do you…?” She jumped and looked up as the server set mugs of cider in front of them, along with steaming bowls of stew.

“I hope stew is all right,” Han said. “I haven’t had anything to eat all day.”

“Stew’s good. I haven’t eaten, either.” She stared down at her dinner, but made no move to take a bite.

Meaning to teach by example, Han spooned up some stew. “It’s good,” he said, with his mouth full. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Sometimes, when he was tired, he just couldn’t play the blueblood role. “I can’t make you, Rebecca, but you’ll probably feel better if you eat.”

She nodded mechanically and took a bite, and then another. Once she got started, she finished it off, washing it down with cider until that too was gone.

“You said you had things on your mind,” Han said, once she’d dropped her spoon into her bowl. “What’s going on?”

She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I should go back home. I…my mother needs me.”

“Why? Is she sick?” Han asked, ordering another cider.

“Well,” Rebecca said, “not exactly. But she’s not herself. And even when she is herself, she’s…” Her voice trailed off, as if she suddenly realized she’d said too much.

“So she’s asked you to come home?”

“No,” Rebecca said. “She told me to stay away. But she may not be thinking clearly. And it may not be in my best interest to stay away.”

“Well,” Han said. “Mind, I don’t know anything about your family. But being here at Oden’s Ford—this is a real opportunity for you, isn’t it?”

She nodded, pushing her empty mug away and pulling Han’s full one toward her.

Better go easy on that, Han thought. Cider isn’t a strong drink, but you’re a small person.