A Stranger Watches by Kathi Oram Peterson

Author:Kathi Oram Peterson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2019-11-12T23:42:12+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Wanting a break from the lodge and the worries there, Kyra decided to visit White Dove’s Café for dinner. She’d enjoyed the pastries she’d bought yesterday, but now she wanted to try a meal and see if there was more depth to their menu.

She should have left Boo home but didn’t want him to stay alone in the lodge so soon after his ordeal. So, she put his favorite blanket once again on the backseat. She parked where she could see the car from the café and cracked the windows. Being late in the day, it wasn’t hot. Then she filled his water bowl, and he settled down, resting his head on his paws, and closed his eyes.

Again, the café appeared busy, and she had to wait in line to place her order. She decided on fry bread and creamy corn chowder. Once her order had been placed, the cashier gave her a number. Kyra found a table in the back that still had a good view of the Jeep.

In this different location, she saw other paintings on the walls she hadn’t noticed before. They were crude panorama drawings on hides that reminded her of Aztec art but not quite, and they told a tale. The one above her table had warriors by a shelter made of branches near a fire. A lone figure with a bent leg stood off to the side. A buffalo herd grazed in the distance, and not far from them, a bison had an arrow in him. Blood dripped from the wound. Another figure wore a robe and had a skull for a head and skeleton feet.

Creepy.

She looked at the table across from her. The panorama art told a different tale, with many war chiefs and horses. She’d tried to give each of her Hometown Cottages this same authentic feel, have them reflect the community and its unique perspective. But she could do without the painting above her table.

“Enjoy your meal.” A woman with raven hair pulled away from her face with a colorfully beaded clasp set down Kyra’s food. A shock of white hair at her widow’s peak gave her distinction.

“Thanks.” Kyra placed her napkin on her lap and pulled apart the crispy fry bread. Inside, it was fluffy and white, not doughy at all. She spread some of the reddish butter on the bread and took a bite. The bread had great texture and the butter a tangy yet mild taste she’d never had before. She tried the soup next. Creamy smooth with sweet kernels of corn.

She noticed the woman who had served her had just delivered an order to the next table. She signaled that she wanted to speak with her. The woman came over.

“Is there something I can get you?”

“Yes, the owner.” Kyra decided to go right to the top. If she complimented the chef to the owner, that would not only put the cook in a good mood but also the proprietor.

“Is the food not to your liking?” The woman’s forehead furrowed.

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