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lovely lady letting someone like him anywhere near her. Or the other man, for that matter. Boy, rather. He seemed to be in his late teens. His scrawny black beard was as unkempt as the older man's, and he appeared equally unwashed. |
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Was this a family as Thorn had saidhusband, wife and son? Mrs. Rafferty, though she could be older than she appeared, looked as though she belonged with the others as much as a kitten belonged in a lion's den. |
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It dawned on Mariah that Mrs. Rafferty was working here as though she, too, were a servant. With a smile at the woman, who quickly looked away, Mariah approached Thorn. He was honing another knife. She said sweetly, "Mr. Thorn, shouldn't our guests relax in the other room while we finish up in here?" |
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"That's right nice of you, ma'am." Rafferty drew closer to her. She did her darnedest not to gag at his smell. |
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"We want to treat our guests right," she said with a bright smile. "Now, why don't you and your family pick a table in the other room, and Mr. Thorn and I will bring the food in a minute." |
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"Yes, ma'am," Rafferty said. "Come on, Zeb." He gave a curt nod at the boy, and the two of them headed for the door. |
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"Mrs. Rafferty, you go, too." Mariah said. "Thanks for your help." |
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All three men stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Mrs. Rafferty seemed unusually absorbed in the chore of scraping the bottom of the pot she'd emptied. |
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"She's our guest, too." Mariah glared at Thorn for support. |
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He tilted his head, as though trying to figure her out. "She's right," he finally grumbled. "Mrs. Rafferty, we're here to serve all our guests." |
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Mariah noted the wideness of Mrs. Rafferty's luminous black eyes as she allowed herself to be shooed away to a seat in the other room. During the meal, Mariah made a point of serving the woman first, smiling at her each time their gazes met and ignoring her husband's and son's scowls as they waited for food. |
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