13Paul stared incredulously as Dean grabbed the last two biscuits and buttered them. He’d already eaten four. “Where do you put it all?” He’d never seen anyone eat as much as the kid did.
Dean shrugged but instead of answering, he took another bite. Quickly swallowing, he changed the subject. “Been seven days since we found the Comanches. Think they’ll be leaving soon?” He scooped up the gravy coating his plate with his last biscuit. “You are a fine cook, Miss Anna. I will miss meals like this when I’m at Camp Supply. Won’t have tasty desserts either.” He gave her a toothy grin. “Did you bake a pie?”
“You know I did. Found the last of Papa’s canned apples, so I made an apple pie just for you.” She placed a generous piece on each of their plates. The last two pieces she took to Redhawk an
