When he opened the door, he was surprised to see that Mallory had finished cleaning up the hearth and had fried up a plate of bear steaks and had something else on the fire.

“Wow!” Brock said, setting the sticks on the dining room table by the meat. “Look at you! You’re learning how to cook!”

She shrugged. “What is it they say? Necessity is the mother of invention?”

Brock chuckled as he slipped out of his coat and hung it over the back of the chair. Then he started cutting up the meat into smaller pieces, wrapped them on the spit, and used the smaller sticks to run it...