Joe unhitched the mules and staked them. His eyes lighted on two chunks of wood that had been cut from a felled apple tree. He pointed them out to Emma.
"Suppose I borrow some boards from Jake Favors and lay them across those chunks? We'd have a passable table. Plenty of wood around. Might make us some benches, too."
Her heart leaped at the thought of a real table again, but she subdued it quickly. "You don't want to take time for that, Joe. A table's the last thing in the world we need to bother about."
He looked at her sidewise and winked solemnly, and she was caught between laughter and tears. His look told her more plainly than words that he knew what the small domestic comforts meant to her, and that he didn't intend to be prevented from wasting an hour for her comfort.
Barbara and Tad had collected a good heap of stones, and Joe started building a fireplace. Emma knelt beside him.
"Let me do this."
"Aren't you tired?"
"I've done nothing except ride for three days," Emma said scornfully. "You can leave the camp to us."
"Well, if you're sure you can make it—"
Emma's eyes twinkled, "We're sure."