Marietta pulled the last loaf of bread from the oven and set it on her kitchen table to cool. There. That should see her through the next week. She covered the loaf with a clean towel and sat down in a chair, pushing a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

"Mrs. James," a voice called through the open top half of the split kitchen door. Though only March, the day was warm and the heat of the oven was oppressive in the kitchen. "Marietta, Doctor Hamilton needs your ...