anything.”
“But—”
“If you don’t stop being so contrary,
you won’t be allowed to go at all.”
Carsha’s eyes filled with tears and she
stamped her foot angrily. When Nash
didn’t back down in the face of her fury,
she turned and headed for the door
dejectedly.
When she was gone, Maralee spoke.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have invited her.”
“It will be good for her to go,” Nash
said and made his way to the fireside.
“Perhaps our greatest folly is secluding
ourselves in the forest.”
Maralee sat down beside him. “I don’t
know. I find the two of you refreshingly
different.”
He didn’t look at her or comment on
her compliment. She decided she was
making him uncomfortable, so she changed
the subject with a falsely enthusiastic
smile. “The three of us could have
breakfast at the inn. My treat,” she said.
“The owner’s wife makes fantastic
griddlecakes.”
“I’m not used to exotic food.”
She laughed at his joke. “Now you’re
being funny ha-ha.”
He stared into the fire as if it held a
sudden fascination for him. A few
moments later, Carsha returned, letting
herself into the house.
“Grandma says I can go!”
“She did?” Nash looked surprised as
he glanced at the girl over his shoulder.
“She said I should be safe as long as
you’re with me, Uncle Nash.”
Nash smiled at her. “This should be an
adventure. Maralee says she will treat us
to breakfast at the inn.”
“I hope you like griddlecakes,”
Maralee said.
Carsha glanced at Nash uncertainly.
“What are those?”
“I have no idea,” Nash said, shrugging.
Maralee chuckled, grinning at the pair
of them. “I guess a good sense of humor
runs in your family.”
Nash and Carsha exchanged glances.
Maralee’s face fell. “You don’t mean
you’ve actually never had griddlecakes?
You two are in for a treat.”
“Okay!” Carsha said enthusiastically,
as if she were conquering a great fear.
“Get your boots and cloak,” Nash said
to Maralee. He began smothering the fire,
which had just started to warm the room.
“I’ve got some furs and buckskin we can
trade for supplies. I’ll meet you on the
porch.”
“Can I go to the bathroom first?”
Maralee asked.
He nodded at her, before sliding his
feet into his boots and putting on his long
leather coat. He looked every bit a
dangerous outlaw.
“Can I help you, Uncle Nash?” Carsha
asked, following him to the door.
“Don’t you have some rabbit furs in
the store room?” he asked. “Maybe you’d
like to trade them for something at the
mercantile.”
“Can I really?” Carsha rushed out of
the house in front of him, waving her arms
excitedly.
Nash glanced over his shoulder and
gave Maralee a smile before closing the
door behind them. Maralee put on her
boots and cloak, slipped outside and
around the back of the house for a moment
of privacy, and then returned to the porch.
Nash and Carsha joined her within a few
minutes, Carsha carrying a small bundle of
rabbit furs and Nash a much larger batch
of hides and other furs.
“So is this how your village makes
money?” Maralee asked.
“We are fairly self-sufficient,” he
said. “We trade furs for the few things we
cannot find in the forest.”
“Like cigarettes?” she teased him.
“My one guilty pleasure,” he agreed.
“Are you ready?”
“I don’t suppose I could get my sword
back before we go?”
“Not yet,” he said. Carsha clung
fearfully to Nash’s leg. “You won’t need
it until the next full moon, right?”
Maralee avoided the child’s frightened
golden eyes. She would have insisted
upon the return of her sword if Carsha
hadn’t been so obviously terrified of it. “I
suppose.” She sighed. “I guess I’m ready
then.”
They headed in the direction of
Sarbough, Carsha staying protectively by
Nash’s side, while Maralee picked her
way through the dense underbrush a few
paces behind them. The sun
“But—”
“If you don’t stop being so contrary,
you won’t be allowed to go at all.”
Carsha’s eyes filled with tears and she
stamped her foot angrily. When Nash
didn’t back down in the face of her fury,
she turned and headed for the door
dejectedly.
When she was gone, Maralee spoke.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have invited her.”
“It will be good for her to go,” Nash
said and made his way to the fireside.
“Perhaps our greatest folly is secluding
ourselves in the forest.”
Maralee sat down beside him. “I don’t
know. I find the two of you refreshingly
different.”
He didn’t look at her or comment on
her compliment. She decided she was
making him uncomfortable, so she changed
the subject with a falsely enthusiastic
smile. “The three of us could have
breakfast at the inn. My treat,” she said.
“The owner’s wife makes fantastic
griddlecakes.”
“I’m not used to exotic food.”
She laughed at his joke. “Now you’re
being funny ha-ha.”
He stared into the fire as if it held a
sudden fascination for him. A few
moments later, Carsha returned, letting
herself into the house.
“Grandma says I can go!”
“She did?” Nash looked surprised as
he glanced at the girl over his shoulder.
“She said I should be safe as long as
you’re with me, Uncle Nash.”
Nash smiled at her. “This should be an
adventure. Maralee says she will treat us
to breakfast at the inn.”
“I hope you like griddlecakes,”
Maralee said.
Carsha glanced at Nash uncertainly.
“What are those?”
“I have no idea,” Nash said, shrugging.
Maralee chuckled, grinning at the pair
of them. “I guess a good sense of humor
runs in your family.”
Nash and Carsha exchanged glances.
Maralee’s face fell. “You don’t mean
you’ve actually never had griddlecakes?
You two are in for a treat.”
“Okay!” Carsha said enthusiastically,
as if she were conquering a great fear.
“Get your boots and cloak,” Nash said
to Maralee. He began smothering the fire,
which had just started to warm the room.
“I’ve got some furs and buckskin we can
trade for supplies. I’ll meet you on the
porch.”
“Can I go to the bathroom first?”
Maralee asked.
He nodded at her, before sliding his
feet into his boots and putting on his long
leather coat. He looked every bit a
dangerous outlaw.
“Can I help you, Uncle Nash?” Carsha
asked, following him to the door.
“Don’t you have some rabbit furs in
the store room?” he asked. “Maybe you’d
like to trade them for something at the
mercantile.”
“Can I really?” Carsha rushed out of
the house in front of him, waving her arms
excitedly.
Nash glanced over his shoulder and
gave Maralee a smile before closing the
door behind them. Maralee put on her
boots and cloak, slipped outside and
around the back of the house for a moment
of privacy, and then returned to the porch.
Nash and Carsha joined her within a few
minutes, Carsha carrying a small bundle of
rabbit furs and Nash a much larger batch
of hides and other furs.
“So is this how your village makes
money?” Maralee asked.
“We are fairly self-sufficient,” he
said. “We trade furs for the few things we
cannot find in the forest.”
“Like cigarettes?” she teased him.
“My one guilty pleasure,” he agreed.
“Are you ready?”
“I don’t suppose I could get my sword
back before we go?”
“Not yet,” he said. Carsha clung
fearfully to Nash’s leg. “You won’t need
it until the next full moon, right?”
Maralee avoided the child’s frightened
golden eyes. She would have insisted
upon the return of her sword if Carsha
hadn’t been so obviously terrified of it. “I
suppose.” She sighed. “I guess I’m ready
then.”
They headed in the direction of
Sarbough, Carsha staying protectively by
Nash’s side, while Maralee picked her
way through the dense underbrush a few
paces behind them. The sun
Similar Books
