She reaches for the knife, which means she has other plans than he'd intended. He'd wanted her to watch the sausage fixings, but he remembers Andrea at the farm, always pitching a fit about women's work. It'd ended in him getting shot in the head; he'd like to think he's learned from that fucking lesson.

So he'll mind the bloody slurry filling those buckets, and she can cut jerky.

He pulls a haunch of deer onto the table, largely skinned, very bloody, and begins cutting it in thin strips. "Jerky. Cook it and salt it, it'll last a damn long time. But it's gotta be thin-- like this, see." He cuts another slice.

And then he hands her the knife, hilt toward her. If she wanted to stab him, now would be the time. To get trust, he's learned, you have to give it.