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It might've been the sun that had woken Kasey up, bouncing off the waters of Flat Iron Lake as it crawled above the horizon. It could've been the distant bickering of fishermen out on the waves, too far to be heard distinctly but the tones of their arguing carrying over to camp regardless. It might've even been the sounds of Levi digging in the sandy scrub and barking at whatever he found.
It could've been one or a mixture of any of those things that woke her up, but what actually had her sitting up and pulling from her bedroll was the smell that hit her nose. It was crispy and savory, delicious smelling even with the undertone of mud and water from the lake itself. She sat up, stretched, then stood up and looked around at camp to discover the source.
What she saw surprised her, though she reflected after a moment that maybe it shouldn't have. She, Noah, and Cripps (and Levi) had been traveling together for a couple weeks now, and it felt like there was something different every day. Something strange to get used to, either by virtue of living on the trail or the sheer enigma that was Noah Hemming. Today it was more the latter, because he was cooking.
Not that she thought he couldn't cook, mind. It was just usually handled by Cripps, and as she reflected on that she saw the old man working on the day's camp stew, off to one side. But sure enough, Noah was in the circle of logs and ramshackle chairs around their open fire, bent over something that she couldn't see. But by the sounds coming from it and the smoke billowing up into the pale dawn sky, that was the source of the good smells.
By the time she had finished her morning ablutions, the sizzling sound had mostly finished, and she had picked up that it was fish. They certainly hadn't had any last night, that she'd been aware of, and sure they were camped on the shores of the lake so that answered where, but not when. Just when had he gotten up?? Coming over, she started to ask him when she was interrupted by Noah waving her over to one of the chairs and all but shoving a plate into her hands. Yep, fish. Cleaned and fried in a pan over the fire; as she looked she saw another being pulled from it, and Noah briefly departed to deliver the plate over to Cripps. Well, might as well eat it while it was hot.
As she did, she curiously watched him once he returned. Though there was no fish left, the pan was still cooking away. He added some extra butter to it, causing a loud sizzle and a brief puff of smoke. Cornmeal, salt, some water poured from a small pot next to the fire that she hadn't noticed before. These went into a bowl, then were mixed and dolloped out into the hot pan. Johnnycakes. Interesting.
"I didn't know you cooked."
Noah spared a half glance up toward her, then back at the pan. They'd burn if given half the chance to. And while his voice was gruff, she thought she saw a small quirk to his lips betraying his humor. "Someone else has got to. Cripps makes the same damn thing from day to day, liable to starve of boredom."
"Well maybe," came the gruff voice from across the way, "if you brought anything in better than skinny rabbits, we'd have something different!"
There was a definite grin in Noah's eyes as he leaned back to meet Cripps' stare. "Yeah? And what about those deer, huh? Do they evaporate once you skin them?"
"Aw c'mon, Noah. You know s'well as I do those are for the people, not the pot. You want something new in your pockets or your belly?"
"I'm just saying." Flip, sizzle. "Maybe some better cooking would be nice, from time to time."
"And so would some better huntin'."
Kasey watched them go back and forth, content to eat her fish. While Noah was usually withdrawn and gruff, she knew he had a wily and bold streak in him, like a coyote sneaking into camp just to prove it could. And she'd been seeing it more and more as they traveled, when the camp was most relaxed. Getting used to this life? No, from what little he'd told her, he had lived this way for years, even before meeting up with Cripps. Getting used to her?
As if thinking of herself drew Noah's own attention, he turned back toward her, seeming almost to appraise something. Before she could ask, he spoke. "Yes I can cook. Did it myself for a while, after all." He carefully scooped the johnnycakes out and into her plate. More of the batter went in. "Still like to, if I have a minute. Useful to have some cooked supplies on hand." He paused, thoughtful. "And a warm breakfast on a cold morning." The pot that'd held the water now received a scoop or so of butter. When that was melted, he carefully passed the handle over to Kasey, who poured a little over her cakes and the remains of her fish. Noah did the same over another serving, which like before was delivered over to Cripps. Then he came back, put the rest of the batter into the pan. Kasey watched, but couldn't help noticing something.
"That all you're having?"
Noah looked over, almost as if surprised at the question. Then he shook his head. "No. I already ate my fish." He waved a hand. "Stop worrying over me and eat, gonna put some miles behind us today."
Good advice was good advice, and Kasey returned to her plate, looking out over the lake. The fishermen were still out there, mostly quiet now though not without a sharp remark or two. Levi had come over to the campfire now, begging for scraps, and scoring a few. The stew was put on over the smaller fire, to cook until dinner and their return after whatever it was they were doing. Could be anything, Kasey thought to herself. She stole another glance at Noah, watching him as he set about his own breakfast.
Whatever was planned today would be a surprise but, she reflected, surprises were just fine with her.