Clint settled on a place that was closer to the river end of town and was lucky enough to rent the last room overlooking the water. He also got a real good view of the docks used for traders, but wasn’t about to complain. After all that walking around, Clint felt a hunger in his belly that quickly became a rumble in his ears. He changed into some clothes that better suited his freshly cleaned face and then walked down to the little stretch of houses where Allison had told him to be for supper. As he approached the second house in the row, Clint could smell everything from pies baking to biscuits burning and every last bit of it only made him hungrier. By the time he knocked on the door, he considered begging for scraps in the event he’d gone to the wrong house. Fortunately, Joseph was the one who pulled open the door. “Mr. Adams! You came!” “Of course I came,” Clint said. “I’m hungry.” Without missing a beat, the boy turned and shouted over his shoulder, “Momma, Clint’s hungry!”
