The cobwebs on Grace's face realign themselves into a delighted smile whenever someone compliments on the food. "'Tis mostly the spices, I'll reckon. With a bitta marjoram and a few other little tricks you can make any old protein gunk taste like chicken. Now, eat up good an' proper, will ya?"

In Cole's case, she adds, a twinkle in her eye: "And if ya call me ma'am to mah face one more time, lad, I'm gonna plant peas in yer ears while ye be sleepin' - it's jes' plain Grace."

She nods at Sia's question. "Yeah, a bit of fresh produce can go a long way. Had a garden back on Triumph, figured it would do no good leaving the stuff ter rot out there, brought with me as much as I could." Her tanned brow furrows. "But I have ter say, there's none left now. The tomatoes were already goin' mushy, so I figured to jes' use it all up fer today. There was cause fer celebration anyways", she say, softly nudging the patient as she herself sits down at the worn table to eat.

"But just you wait, I'll have that garden up in a jiffy", she beams, "and I knows a trick or two fer makin' em grow..."

After dinner, she helps Cole with the dishes, making a point of thanking him profusely for his assistance and shoos him away when most of the work is done. "You go now, honey, an' do more important things than this old job o'mine. Off ya go!"