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A few minutes later, a discreet knock at the door caused Josiah to stand up. Bekah could hear him moving across the room then talk quietly to whoever had arrived.

“Snack is here.”

She opened her eyes and sat up, sitting criss-cross on the bed. “What did they bring?”

He looked under the silver dome. “Looks like skyr, an Icelandic yogurt-y type thing, and a bowl of berries. How’s that sound?”

“I’ve never had skyr.”

“They also sent Oreos.”

Bekah sat up a little straighter. “Why would they do that?”

Josiah shrugged. “Do you like Oreos?”

“They’re my favorite.”

“I’d imagine someone discovered that tidbit and decided it was a good idea to send some up.”

The thought that someone cared enough to find out and send her favorite brought tears to Bekah’s eyes.

She picked up one of the cups of skyr and peeled back the foil top. Before reaching for a spoon, she sniffed the white, creamy mixture.

Her brows pulled together as she tried to place the smell.

“What?” Josiah had a big bite on his spoon.

“I’m trying to figure out what it smells like.”

He looked puzzled then smelled his own skyr. “It smells like vanilla.”

Bekah shook her head. “No. It’s something else.” Another sniff. “Not French onion dip, but kind of. Maybe sour cream.” Another one. “Or cottage cheese.” With a shrug, she decided it was time to try it.

The texture appeared to be more like... pudding or something than the yogurt she was used to. She took a small bite. Her nose wrinkled.

“Don’t like it?” He was on his third or fourth bite.

“I’m not sure. It may be a bit of an acquired taste.” She ate a little bit more. It wasn’tbad. Just different. Maybe a little tart, a taste she wasn’t overly fond of.

Before her next bite, she reached for an Orea and dipped it into the skyr. The sweet of the cookie offset enough of the tart that she did it again.

“Do you like it?” Josiah sounded concerned.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t know that it’ll ever be my favorite, but I’ll eat it.”

What appeared to be a wave of relief seemed to wash over him. “I’m glad. The staff in the kitchen would be appalled at themselves if they sent something you couldn’t stand.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “Even if there was no way you could have known you wouldn’t overly care for it.”

“Well, now I know that it’ll be all right.” She twisted the cup to look at the ingredients. “I’m not a fan of skim milk in general, so that could be part of it.” The ingredients all looked pretty innocuous. It suggested she peel the label off and read the story. A series of cartoon like squares told of someone who’d moved to the States, didn’t care for the yogurt, and created his own version of skyr. Enterprising.

Josiah checked his phone. “Your family has arrived. I doubt you want them in here. Not enough room for one thing.”

She looked. He wasn’t wrong. It was like a normal bedroom, albeit a little bigger and decorated more nicely than any other bedroom she’d ever occupied until her arrival in Eyjania. Well, maybe in Øyanord a few weeks earlier, but that’s it.

“Where else could we meet them?” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stared at her socks.

“There’s a sitting room not too far from here. Are you up for walking that far?” He stood and walked toward her, his hand reaching out to help her to her feet.

She gave him a grateful smile as she took his hand. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” The physical contact and the soft look he sent her way warmed her in a way even a Southwest Missouri August day wouldn’t have been able to.