Chapter Thirteen
Dinner time came around, but Jillian didn’t emerge from her room. Aldair didn’t think it a good idea for her to go without food, even if she was being so infernally stubborn, and so he put together a tray of the grilled trout and rice and vegetables he’d conjured for their evening meal, and left it outside her door. Patches eyed the tray with a good deal of interest, but Aldair threatened him with being tied up on the porch all night if he should touch Jillian’s food, and the dog reluctantly backed away and left it alone.
Well, the bribe of another bone could also have had something to do with his good behavior.
Aldair ate his own meal and washed it down with some light white wine, a New Mexico blend called Shining River that he’d found in the wine rack in the kitchen.
