Tuesday Tales #TT1

Welcome. Today's word it Stutter

She awoke with a start not recognizing where she was. A fire danced in the massive stone fireplace, but beyond the firelight, it was dark. Pain shot through her hands and feet. It was expected with frostbite, but she didn’t know just how painful it was until now. 

The cabin looked to be well built out of hand hewed logs and no wind came through the walls. It was tiny, but it probably suited the man who rescued her. Sitting up she waited for her eyes to adjust to the semi darkness. There was a big pile of furs in one corner. A table with two chairs and a makeshift kitchen area. Wooden crates hung on the walls to serve as shelves and a roughly put together plank of wood with logs for legs, held a few kitchen items and tools.

Above the pile of furs were pegs on which a few items of clothing hung. There was nothing fancy and nothing of convenience but it was warm. She was grateful to have shelter from the cold. The pain in her fingers was the worst and she dreaded looking at them. Slowly she pulled them out from under the covers and to her relief; they weren’t blackened with severe frostbite.

The door opened and the big man came in, a bundle of firewood in his arms. Kicking the door closed behind him, he then glanced in her direction. “So, you’ve decided to come back to this world did ya?”

“H- how long was I a-asleep?” she stuttered. Her body tensed, not sure what he had in store for her.

He laid the wood next to the fireplace and threw a log on top of the fire. The flame blazed higher. “Only a day. You sure were hard to thaw and I’m glad ya was out when I tended your hands and feet. Painful business it is.”

“Thank you. They are still hurting. It was nice of you to tend to me. I was afraid I’d lose them. Actually, I figured I was going to die out there. I’ve never seen snow so early. I wonder how the others fared.”

His dark brow rose. “Others? You said you were alone. Damn, I live up here to be away from folks not to go rescue them.” He took off his fur coat and sat down. 

“I am or was alone. I got kicked off the wagon train and left to fend for myself.” Her voice contained the bitterness she couldn’t hide.

“What in tar-nation are you talking about? You must have done something pretty awful to be banned from the wagon train.”

“Of course.”

His dark eyes widened and he ran his hand through his thick black hair. It hung past his shoulders and she wondered when he’d it cut last. “You might as well tell me. I’m not the type to judge.”

“My parents died and they refused to let me travel with them alone. It was either marry old toothless Thomas or thrown off. To my surprise they were serious and when I refused to marry Thomas they filled a sack with a meager amount of food, filled a canteen, and allowed me to take my coat and scarf with me.” She paused as all the pain came rushing back. There hadn’t even been time to mourn the passing of her dear mother and father.

“Miss, that’s—”

“It’s Samantha. Samantha Foley.”

He nodded. “I’m Patrick  McCrory. I have to say that’s quite the yarn you’re spinning.”

She glanced away from his intense brown eyes. “I wish it was just a story.”

“Well now, are you sure you weren’t inviting the married men to look your way?”

A loud sigh was her reply. She’d thought the people on the wagon train were crazy, but now a stranger believed her capable of luring men. What was it about her that people assumed such an awful thing? “I thought you said no judgment.”

“Aye, I did. How long ago did they put you out?”

“I’d say two weeks or so. I tried to follow by foot but they actually threw rocks at me to keep me away. As far as I’m concerned, they left me to die.” A tear rolled down her face. “Ouch!” She tried to wipe it away.

“Don’t cry. I hate crying. If you want me to believe your story I will.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Just what is it about me that screams whore to you?”

“You have pretty blonde hair, and a man could get lost in those big blue eyes of yours. I have to say you are nicely rounded in the right places. You don’t seem very meek either.”

“You think I should have married Thomas? He is shiftless and wanted me to be his worker, not a wife. It would have caused trouble since I had no inclination to lay with him. He surely would have beaten me for it too. So, maybe my predicament is my fault, I suppose I chose death over a life of sheer hell.”

His face softened a bit but she could see the clouds of doubt in his eyes. “I bet you’re hungry. I’ll throw something together.” There was an edge to his voice and it didn’t invite any more conversation.

Lying back down, she figured she might as well try to regain her strength before she was put out again.

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