Raylan was already better fed than he'd been since last summer, but he could tell that he was still thinner than he wanted to be, and when he sat down to eat, it was the vegetables he dove for, not the meat. He could still feel the craving for fresh, sharp things over the well-cooked stews and pies that were easy to get. If he never saw ram meat again, it would be too soon.

But Mal seemed to be an expert at this sort of thing, and Raylan gave him a calculating look. "You reckon so?" he asked, glancing back at the kitchen door. "I ain't even tryin' to get much," he said. "Just a damn orange or somethin'."

He moved away from the door either way, fearing that if he stayed too close, Angie would come out brandishing her wooden spoon.