Raythe had spent a lot of the afternoon leaning carelessly against a
solid tree with his arms crossed defensively in front of him as he watched the
activity of the camp being put together. He glanced down and plucked at a
couple of feathers still clinging to his shirt before tossing them into the
wind. “Damn smelly things,” he grumbled under his breath. At one point in time,
he had halfheartedly assisted in moving ducks and chickens. Some of the men
had made friendly overtures, but he had rebuffed all of them.
Trust was a dangerous thing. The more people you trusted, even with
simple friendship, the more people there were who could betray you. He had long
since thought himself resigned to the fact that he would always be alone. But
he found himself oddly longing to be able to accept the friendship so easily
offered. Suddenly being alone didn’t seem as safe as it once had. He turned
away and aimlessly sauntered back to the ocean to watch the waves rolling in.
He was distracted from his depressing thoughts by the sound of raised
voices and stealthily made his way over to observe unseen as a quarrel
developed between two men a little further down the beach.
Wayne had been wandering along the shoreline, trying to keep space
between him and the rest of the crowd. The situation was unbearable, and he
wanted badly to cry but didn’t want anyone to see him. Angrily he brushed at
his eyes and almost stumbled over the lone figure sitting on the sand.
“Hey!” an indignant voice shot out. “You better damn well watch where
you’re going, you clumsy oaf!” Spyke demanded.
Wayne regained his balance and glared at the young man who was hugging
his knees to his chest. ‘How dare he speak to me like that!’ he thought.
‘Doesn’t he know who I am?’
“Watch yourself, you idiot!” Wayne snorted with his nose delicately
turned up. Their eyes locked; both prepared for battle.
Quentin’s headache had dissipated by now and he had come down to the
shore with a few of the others for a badly needed break. If only his wrist wasn’t
hurting so badly.
He passively listened to the two young men for a couple of minutes and
when the argument appeared to be heating up, walked over and stepped in between
them. It only took a few quiet words to get things under control and each man
to go back to what he’d been doing, with Wayne moving further down the beach to
find the privacy he desired.
As he slowly trudged away, Wayne turned his head back a few times,
resentment boiling in his chest about the way he had been so peremptorily
dismissed. In a huff, he settled down some distance off, rested his back against a damp log and silently observed the few
men still milling about, his eyes brooding.
Samuel had also heard the
arguing, but before he could intervene, he saw the other man approach and sort
out the situation. He watched as the two would-be combatants separated with one
heading off in the opposite direction and throwing himself down on the sand.
The young man looked so crestfallen that Samuel couldn’t help but go with the
temptation to offer solace. This surprised him, as usually he would have just
walked away from any other similar circumstances. Instead, within minutes he found
himself standing over the forlorn young man and wondering what to do or say
next.
Wayne squinted up at the
stranger. Then he shrugged and dropped his chin onto his chest with lips
pressed tightly and looking dangerously like a pout.
Going with the first idea to
come into his mind, Samuel started to speak in as optimistic a manner as he could
muster. “You know, all of us are having to make changes in our lives. Some more
than others, I’d wager. But I bet if we give each other a chance, things will
work out. Bet you’ve as much to offer as the rest of us.”
Wayne grinned shyly. “That’s
a nice thing to say, thanks.”
Samuel reached down to help
the other man to his feet. “Okay, no more feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s go
help out. We wouldn’t want to give the impression that we were unwilling to do
our fair share, would we?”
Obediently, Wayne let the bigger man pull him up. They exchanged names
while shaking hands; then they both turned and headed back to join the rest of the
group.
Quentin had smiled sadly as he’d watched the second of the two
adversaries making his way down the ocean front away from the main group while
the other remained forlornly seated on the beach. Acknowledging that aside from
breaking up the fight, there was nothing else he was inclined to do for them at
the moment, he took a deep breath and turned away. Determining constructive
activity would be more productive than self-pity; he returned to the area where
he felt his help would be put to better use.
As he started to work on his list, but the sharp pain flared up again in
his wrist and the pencil he’d been holding fell to the ground.
“Here, let me help you with that. I’ve been told my penmanship is very
neat and legible. I’m Kelby Curtis.”
“Thank you, Kelby. I’m Quentin. It seems like I managed to sprain my
wrist while disembarking earlier. I’d sure welcome the aid of an assistant.” He
smiled at the young man standing in front of him.
“If you let me have a page of that note pad, I’ll write out what is in
those barrels and wooden bins,” Kelby offered. Pencil and paper in hand, he
merrily called out each label before writing it down. His smile widened with
the growing variety of items: dried meat, sow-belly, salted fish, flour, lard,
molasses, and dry beans among them.
Samuel, trailed by Wayne, took upon himself the task of seeing that the
items needed for their evening meal got over to the cooking area as soon as possible.
He enlisted Wayne’s help in carrying the bins of well-stored root vegetables.
“You grab the handle on that side, Wayne, and I’ll take this one. Two of us
toting will make the load lighter.”
“I’ll get you some kindling, Thomas, if you like,” Galen offered,
knowing he was physically unable to help with heavier tasks and would only be
in the way.
“That would be very helpful, Galen. However, promise me you’ll stay
nearby. We haven’t scouted out the area yet and I wouldn’t want you to become
lost or get hurt while gathering it.”
Galen tilted his head to one side and peered into the older man’s face.
His reading of the words on Thomas’ lips and the sincerity in the other man’s
eyes made it easy for him to accept the directive. The young man felt a sudden
flood of warmth at the first sign of concern or caring from someone other than
his family since this whole ordeal began. Even the guard who had supplied him
with that putrid medicine had only done so because he was fed up with toting
the slop-bucket from Galen’s small cabin. “I p-promise!” Galen’s cheeky,
infectious grin momentarily erased the signs of fatigue and illness from his
young face.
Galen pulled off his sweater and draped it across the end of a large,
unopened crate; one of two housing more food staples and presently being used
as working surfaces. “Anybody w-want to help gather firewood?” Galen called out
as he turned around to face the others. He was pleased to see two men who
looked to be closer his age step forward.
“Sure thing, Galen!” Brodie
called out, happy to assist with a chore that was not as physically taxing as
what he had been doing.
Levi was a bit nervous around so many new people, but he did want to
help. “I’ll come with you!”
“Thanks!” Galen was relieved to have two others help lighten the
workload. He would not admit how tired he was getting for fear of appearing not
to be pulling his own weight. “M-my name is Galen.” He held out his hand.
Levi blinked in surprise at the stutter but had an immediate
understanding of the hardships Galen must have gone through and he was
well-mannered enough not to remark on it. There was something fragile in those soft grey eyes. “Levi. It’s nice to meet you.” He firmly shook Galen’s hand before
offering his own to the other man.
“Brodie. But Galen already knows that because we briefly crossed paths
earlier.” Two pair of eyes met and silently acknowledged the fact while not
verbally adding to it.
Wesley sulked as the three young men wandered off with something like
envy in his eyes. He wished he had volunteered to go along. He liked making new
friends and he always had a group around him at home. Suddenly, he felt so
abandoned. It seemed even Wayne had made a new friend as the younger twin
watched his brother traipsing behind an older man.
With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around himself as if seeking succour and protection from the blanket he’d confiscated. It was scratchy but Wesley
felt comforted by its warmth. Clutching it tightly, he wandered over to where
some men were getting ready to prepare a meal. He observed them for a bit while
pondering if maybe helping would beat standing around feeling alone and left
out.
Thomas watched as Galen went out of his sight in search of wood. He couldn’t
understand why he felt so drawn to watch over the young man. The last thing he
was interested in was getting involved with someone. The memory of his beloved
Jacob still burned in his heart. ‘No,’ he firmly told himself. He was only
being thoughtful of the lad who was obviously in need of some support; it did
not mean he felt attracted to him.
It took only moments for the three men to work their way into the trees.
It was immediately apparent that the forest had stood for some time and there
was plenty of dead wood littering the leaf-strewn ground. It must have fallen during previous
winters. They couldn’t carry more than an armful each, but between the three of
them, they should be able to find enough to prepare dinner with.
“Until today, I hadn’t seen you since we were taken out of that
miserable jail and marched onto the ship, Galen. Where were you throughout the
voyage?” Brodie asked conversationally as they walked along.
Galen shrugged. “It was a rough voyage for m-me, so I stayed in the cabin
they p-put m-me in. I’m so glad w-we’re finally here.”
“Me too, but I’m also kind of scared,” Brodie reply softly for Galen’s
ears only.
Galen began picking up sturdy sticks almost immediately, and Brodie
wholeheartedly followed his example. Although truth be told, both young men were
much more interested in looking around than they were in actually searching for
wood. Levi seemed to share their interest at least to some extent and was also
glancing around speculatively at the large oak, willow, ash and birch trees,
among others.
They each had almost full armloads of wood when Galen noticed the noise
of the emerging encampment was very faint indeed. He remembered Thomas’
concerned request that he stay nearby and realised just how exhausted he was
becoming.
“I think w-we b-better go b-back,” he suggested as he turned to retrace
his steps.
“Probably for the best, Galen. I think we have plenty of kindling for
now,” Brodie agreed. Although he was enjoying the sense of freedom that being
here gave him, he couldn’t help but notice just how drained the younger man
was.
“Oh, come on, guys!” Levi protested. “We really aren’t that far away
yet, and I think there may be a clearing just a little further on. We could
maybe rest there before heading back.”
“Not m-me!” Galen insisted. “I p-promised Thomas I w-wouldn’t w-wonder
off.” He shifted the bundle in his arms to get a better grip and began trudging
towards the campsite.
“I think he’s right, Levi! Let’s get what we have back to camp so the men can get supper started,” Brodie once again supported Galen even though he
usually wasn’t so outspoken, especially to strangers. “Galen and I are getting
tired, and you’re looking kind of weary yourself,” he mentioned before
following in Galen’s footsteps.
“Honestly,” Levi said, trying to hold his irritation in check. “I am a
grown man. I can take care of myself. I wasn’t planning on us being too long.
After all, I know they are going to need the wood.” He was a little
disappointed at giving up the opportunity to go with the sense of adventure
he’d suddenly been hit with. “Oh alright,” he grumbled and reluctantly followed
the others.
The three wood gatherers’ return coincided with the completion of the
stove assembling and a fire was quickly started. Brodie returned to assisting with
relocating unpacked items while Galen set about fetching requested ingredients
needed for the meal.
Levi looked around to see if Troy had returned and was somewhat relieved
to discover he hadn’t. The day was beginning to catch up on him and feeling
rather worn out he decided to take a well-deserved break and rest like his
partner had instructed him to do. He found a nice shady spot away from the
on-going hubbub and was soon fast asleep.
Wesley felt his stomach growl and he looked longingly at the items being
laid out for preparation. The man placing baking ingredients out on the
makeshift table looked up and smiled. “Do you want to help?”
Wesley hesitated. What did he know about cooking? He wasn’t even sure if
he could maintain a fire, but he welcomed the thought of keeping his hands occupied.
“But you already have two helpers,” he pointed out, believing there would be no
need for anyone else.
“I am sure we would all appreciate another pair of hands,” Walker
assured him. “Are yours available?”
“Yes, please. What would you like me to do?” Wesley asked, stepping
forward. Carelessly, he let the blanket fall from his shoulders onto the
ground.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Walker raised one eyebrow and nodded at the blanket.
“That’s no way to treat our limited stock of bedding. We have to make everything
last as long as we can. It’s everyone’s responsibility to look out for one
another. Do you agree? Yes? Good! Pick it up then, please.”
Awed by the authority in the man’s voice, Wesley bent and picked it up.
He looked back at the man, unsure of himself.
“Fold it, neatly!” Walker said, not unkindly when he noticed Wesley
looking a bit lost. “Now put it back where you found it. Good! Come on back
now. Thad and Jordan here are getting carrots, turnips and onions ready for
Thomas. Do you think you can help peel and cut up the potatoes?”
Suddenly, Wesley no longer felt so lost and forsaken. With a little sigh
and a shadow of a smile on his lips, he picked up the knife and carefully
started peeling a potato.
Meanwhile, Aiden was still at work examining the contents of the crates
he’d opened. He felt the presence of someone and looked up to see a well-built
man standing across from him.
“Hello, my name is Preston Chadwick.” A tall brown-haired man offered
his hand to Aiden. “I was in forestry.”
“Aiden here. ’Tis pleased I am to meet ye,” the big Scot responded in
an opened manner.
“Looks pretty much like all needed hands are hard at work, so I was
thinking of checking out the trees and possible lumber availability for when we
start the construction of new homes.”
“Aye, we’re going to be needing a fair number cut,” Aiden commented
knowingly. “See ye at the evening meal!” he called out as Preston disappeared
into the forest just as Troy had a short time earlier.
In the meantime, Troy was glancing up to the clear sky as he walked
towards the place where a buck-skinned dressed man had mentioned a freshwater
tributary. He gave thanks for the good weather. This trek was tough going
enough and would have been made all the more difficult had it been raining. The
underbrush he was plodding his way through was thick; the path Brock had walked
was barely visible.
Spring seemed to have taken firm hold of the island, as his eyes were
next drawn to the colourful wildflowers that dotted the landscape. Almost immediately
he heard the rush of moving water and followed the sound as he admired the
beauty of his new surroundings. He assumed he must be nearing a wild-life watering
hole and it briefly crossed his mind to wonder just what kind of animals they’d find here.
He came upon the stream quickly enough. Its crystal-clear water
looked refreshing, as he proved when he drank a handful. Deciding the water was
safe, he knelt down to fill the buckets. Having done his self-assigned task, he
paused for a moment to do a little more exploring before returning to the others.
He noticed a trail, obviously used by deer and other animals, running
next to the waterway and over a small hill. Deciding he had at least a few more
moments to explore, he followed the path to the hill’s crest and stopped. The
ground sloped gently away from him before levelling out in a veritable sea of
greenery. Trees formed a natural fence around what was easily a mile wide
clearing, with a few more dotting the huge field. To the right, the stream
split the landscape and flowed through a small pond at the ground’s lowest
point.
Troy could already envision the fine little settlement that could be
made here. With a grin on his face, he returned to his abandoned water buckets and
started back to the encampment. Eager to tell his partner and everyone else what
he had found, he picked up his pace.
“Here’s that water I promised you. Sorry it took as long as it did,”
Troy said as he placed the buckets on the table.
“Thank you. It didn’t seem you were gone long at all. I’m only happy to
know we have a supply of fresh water nearby.” Thomas gestured towards the large
iron stove. “I still find it hard to believe we’ve been provided with such a
blessing. It will make preparing food for almost thirty men a great deal easier
than cooking over an open fire.”
“Yes indeed. Not a problem at all. Glad to be of help.” Troy was
slightly distracted. He had been looking for his companion since he returned to
the camp, but the young man didn’t seem to be in evidence. “Thomas, you wouldn’t
happen to know what my partner has been up to and where he is at the moment, would
you?”
“Levi left with Galen and another lad in search of wood for the fire. I
did caution them to not wander far as we have not yet scouted the area and
didn’t want them to get lost or run into anything dangerous. They returned a
little while ago and I think Levi wanted to rest a bit. He may be on the far
side of the clearing where it is a little quieter.”
Some of Troy’s cheer faded with the man’s words. “Thanks! I’ll just go
find him.”
He located Levi almost immediately and stood looking down at the
slumbering man with an expression of loving exasperation for several moments
before clearing his throat and awakening him.
“What did I tell you when you wanted to go with me a short time ago?”
Troy asked once he had Levi’s full attention.
Levi’s eyes fell to the ground and he mumbled a reply. A strong hand
gripped his arm to pull him up from the ground and hold him in place as the
other firmly connected with his backside. “Owww!” Levi glanced around, hoping
no one had seen or heard what had just happened.
“Care to repeat that, Levi?”
“No. I mean you told me ‘no’ that I couldn’t go with you.”
“That’s right. And where did I tell you to stay?”
“In the camp,” Levi answered with a sigh.
“If I was worried about your safety when you were with me, whatever
possessed you to think I would endorse you going off without me?”
“I just wanted to be useful,” Levi softly offered his excuse, knowing it
would not satisfy the older man.
“We’ll be discussing this later, my boy,” Troy assured him. “Right now,
since you insist on doing your part, we’ll gather more kindling.” He bit the
inside of his cheek so the younger man wouldn’t see the smile forming.
Meanwhile, Larry had approached Aiden once again to submit a progress report.
“We’ve started pitching the other tents, Aiden. One, somewhat smaller than the
communal tent, has been set up for medical purposes and a couple of others for
storing the supplies. However, we’re unsure of how many in total need to be
erected. I came to see what you thought about it.”
“Thought about what, lad?” Aiden stopped what he was doing to give the
other man his undivided attention.
Larry looked around at the number of men actively engaged in doing their
part to get things set up. “Well, I don’t know how many men should be allocated
to each tent. Do you think we should ask who wants to sleep with whom or maybe
draw straws?”
“I would suggest ye wait until morn to erect the remaining tents. ’Twill
be plenty of time to decide who wants to share a tent with whom,” Aiden
patiently suggested, unsure of why the younger man expected him to have all the
answers.
“That sounds like a plan, sir,” Larry answered. “I’ll go tell the
others. Thanks! Hmm, would you like me to organise a group of men to scout out
the surrounding area?”
“I think we’re all verra busy at the moment, laddie, so ’tis best to put
it off for a few days. However, the digging of a good size fire pit is badly
needed.” Aiden couldn’t help but smile when the young man’s face lit up at that
suggestion.
“I’ll get that project underway right away, Aiden.”
The big Scot shook his head as the ex-marine turned to walk away. ‘Aye,
we’re soon going to have to decide on a method of establishing some leadership
here,’ he mused and went back to what he’d been doing.
While he worked, Thomas
couldn’t help but watch over Galen as he moved about. ‘That lad needs to slow
down,’ he thought.
“Seeing as w-we have enough
firewood for the time b-being, Thomas, I’m going to fetch the m-milk. Aside
from the b-bit W-walker needed for the b-biscuits, the rest has b-been standing in
w-water for a w-while now, so it should be nice and cool.”
“I’ve got to stir this stew,
lad. If you wait a few minutes, I can help you with that.”
“It’s okay. I can do it!”
Galen chuckled in a carefree manner and ran off on his self-appointed errand.
Half way across the compound he tripped, fell down and slowly got back up. Then
taking his time, he walked along the well-trodden path through the small stand
of trees.
Thomas dropped the spoon into
the large pot when he saw Galen fall. He was about the go after the boy when he
got himself back up and headed towards the ocean once again
Arriving at the beach, Galen
waded into the water and grasped the handles of the two buckets. He drew in a
deep breath and flexed his fingers. The buckets are heavier than he remembered.
Tightening his grip, he struggled to get them back to the cooking area.
Thomas sighed as Galen made
his way back. ‘I’ve got to get that lad to sit down and take a rest. His legs
are shaking as he walks, and he is awfully pale.’
“Here, Thomas,” Galen barely
managed to mumble. He was completely out of breath. His arms and legs were sore,
and he felt like curling up in a ball to just asleep somewhere.
“Let me take those, Galen.
Sit yourself down on that log before you fall down. You’ve done enough to help;
you need to take a rest.”
“B-but there is still so
m-much to do, Thomas!”
Thomas took the heavy buckets
over to the makeshift table. “Lad, you’re exhausted from being ill throughout
the voyage. There is no shame in resting after all the hard work you’ve done,”
he said as he guided Galen to a log that had been dragged near the stove. He
felt the warmth would do the boy good. “Besides, I think most of today’s
heavier work has been accomplished. There’s just supper to get over with.”
Galen glanced around at the
others, most of whom were still busy. He turned pleading grey eyes up to Thomas;
eyes that clearly showed his fatigue. He needed, wanted someone to stop him, to
convince him he had done his fair share.
Thomas gently but firmly,
pushed Galen down. “You sit yourself here and don’t you move until your supper
is ready. Is that clear, young man?”
“B-but, Thomas...” Galen
protested even though his eyes were bright with unshed tears of exhaustion.
“No buts. You’ve worked as
hard, or harder, than any man has since we sent foot on this beach. It is time
now to rest.”
Galen sat where Thomas had
left him, enjoying the aroma of bubbling stew and baking biscuits until sleep overtook
him and he slid off the log. It was here Thomas found him when it was time to
eat.
A short while later, Troy and Levi returned to camp and made their way
directly towards the big canvas shelter with its sides rolled up. Both were
impressed with how quickly things had been put together as the smell of food
cooking assailed their nostrils. In short order, the two arm loads of wood they
carried were placed on the pile next to the stove where Thomas was stirring a
cauldron-size pot of wonderful smelling stew.
Thomas looked gratefully at the addition to his woodpile. “Thank you,
gentlemen. We’re burning up a lot of the smaller pieces, so every bit helps.”
“Not a problem at all,” Troy answered. “Is there anything else we could
do to help here?”
“No, thank you. We’ve got things well in hand and this meal should be
ready shortly,” Thomas replied.
“Alright then, since you gentlemen have everything under control here
and I notice a fire pit well underway with additional firewood being chopped
and piled nearby it. We’ll go see if more hands can be of use with that chore.”
Raythe was bored. He didn’t know how to be part of a group and wasn’t
even sure he wanted to be. The entertainment value he had temporarily discovered
in trying to whittle soon disintegrated and he found himself at loose ends. So
he strolled along the sandy beach for a short while before dropping down on the
ground with his back against a tree.
He glanced around when he heard a noise that sounded vaguely familiar.
When it didn’t repeat itself immediately, he shrugged and tried to put it out
of his mind.
But the odd noise came again and Raythe looked behind the tree where it
seemed to be coming from. He saw a covered basket that he hadn’t noticed before.
It had been pushed underneath a large bush and had somehow been missed during
the removal of the crates. The high-pitched sound was repeated, and he could
have sworn he saw the basket move. Maybe some kind of animal had crawled into
it. He moved closer to investigate. Kneeling in the dirt, he pulled the
container to him. It was a bit heavier than he had expected and he was right,
it did move. Just a quiver, but it was there.
Carefully, he examined it and found that the basket, large enough
to hold a small child, had latches that would allow the entire top half to be
lifted off when they were released. There was also a much smaller opening in
the very top, with its own latch.
He decided, for reasons he was never sure of, to share his discovery
with the others. Exercising care, he lifted and carried it along the path to
the area where some men were working. He placed it back on the ground and
impudently queried, “anyone interested in seeing what’s in this?” Then he set about
investigating further.
His question had drawn the attention of those nearby, but it never
occurred to him to ask anyone for assistance. He had always been on his own and
fatalistically thought that he always would be. With a shrug he made a quick decision.
Flipping the catch on the topmost hatch, he opened it and pushed his hand
inside.
Warmth, softness, movement, and a surprising wetness were followed
almost immediately by a small but sharp pain. He jerked his arm back with a
yelp and closely examined his hand. A single drop of blood welled up from a
tiny mark on one finger. His startled yell attracted even more attention.
Several men came over to see what had happened. For one of the few times in his
life, he was thankful for the darker skin of his heritage, as it kept his blush
from showing.
“What happened?” asked Samuel.
“I saw him put a hand in the basket there, and it seems that something
bit him,” answered Gille.
Ignoring the murmuring around him, Raythe dabbed the blood off on his
dirty shirt and glared at the basket.
Mitchell made a comment about being careful, but dark eyes never moved
from their target.
“It’s alright,” Raythe said aloud, feeling the corners of his mouth
turning up. “I think I know exactly what is in there.” Without a moment’s
hesitation, he plunged his hand through the top of the basket and felt a smile
stretch across his face. Carefully manoeuvring back through the opening, he
pulled out a small black and tan object. It was moving vigorously.
As he brought it protectively into his arms, the puppy scrambled up his
chest to lick enthusiastically at the face of its rescuer. For just a moment,
Raythe tried to stop the little animal, but four paws moved a lot faster than
he could keep up with and a tail whipped back and forth so fast it was a blur.
The puppy’s entire body was wriggling with excitement and affection. For the
first time in well over two months, the young man opened his mouth and allowed
laughter to escape. Not cynically or sarcastically, but with pure joy. ‘Maybe,’
it finally occurred to him, ‘I need not be so alone after all.’
The men gathering about couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm the
little bundle exhibited at being free of the basket which was now rocking as
several smaller yips and whimpers were herd.
Hendrik stepped forward to undo the remaining latches and as soon as the
lid was removed, the barking increased. Another puppy tumbled out and waddled
into the crowd while still more waited in what must have been their home for
several days.
No one wondered aloud why the dogs’ past owner had taken them off the
ship and so callously abandoned them
Jordan got down on his hands and knees to get a closer look. “I’d like
to have one?” he softly intoned as he reached in to pet what appeared to be the
runt of the litter.
“Help yourself,” Raythe encouraged.
“Oh, the poor things,” Seth said, suddenly appearing from out of nowhere.
No one thought to ask where he’d been all afternoon and he made no effort
to introduce himself. “Looks like they’re deformed,” he mockingly declared. “You
might have to drown them.” He deliberately ignored Jordan and noted that the
younger man also appeared to be keeping his distance.
Raythe looked up in horror and held the pup possessively closer.
Levi gave a derisive snort. “They are not deformed,” he informed Seth
scornfully. “Haven’t you ever seen a dachshund before?”
“Levi!” Troy was standing right next to his partner and reacted
immediately to the disrespectful tone. Without even thinking about it he laid a
fairly discreet and light swat on the young man’s backside.
Levi turned bright red since he was sure someone must have seen it. “I’m
sorry,” he apologised without being told to. “I shouldn’t have spoken that way
since it really isn’t that common a breed of dog in some areas. They are
sometimes bred to hunt badgers and can be very tenacious.” He spoke quickly in
an effort to cover his embarrassment. “My father used to breed them,” he added
as an afterthought.
Looking back at the basket, they saw that not all of its contents were little
puppies. Cowering in middle of her brood was a larger and longer haired version
of them. The dog, who was obviously the mother, whimpered steadily and seemed
fearful of being harmed in some way. She must have been trapped with her numerous
offspring for quite some time. Small bones around her paws showed that she had
been fed, but the pups had mostly been feeding on her. Her cowering behaviour
showed that she had in all likelihood been abused.
Levi knelt down and held out a cautious hand towards the dog. He felt a
presence close to his side and looked up questioningly at Troy.
Looking into those pleading eyes, Troy could only sigh. “I’m not even
going to try and deny you the dog,” he said with a chuckle. The grin that lit
up his partner’s face was reward enough.
Both men knew once she was cleaned up and had some proper nourishment,
she would be a bright copper colour with long hair that would almost brush the
ground. “So, what are you going to call her,” Troy inquired.
Levi considered this for a few moments. “Cherry,” he finally declared. “It
was the name of all the best hunting dogs we ever owned. I may not like my
family right now, maybe never, but that is one tradition I don’t mind carrying
on.”
With the commotion over, the majority of the men left, but there were
fewer dogs too. Mitchell, Preston, and Kelby stepped forward, each man adopting
one of the cuddly little creatures. Jordan had already grabbed up his puppy and
run off to show the men working in their makeshift kitchen. It was only moments
before the basket was empty, five pups and their mother having been carried off
in loving arms.
Wayne observed the group sullenly. All the puppies were gone, and he desperately
wanted one too. Back home at their country estate, they’d had many dogs and he
missed them running around his legs and lapping at his hands. All of a sudden,
he felt sick with longing. Perhaps it was the thought of home or possibly just
the need to have something to call his own, but it hit him so hard in the
stomach, he thought he was going to throw up.
He watched as the basket was
carried away by Samuel. It was filthy beyond saving and would have to be
burned. As he dejectedly followed the others,
he made up his mind then and there to bide his time so that as soon as an opportunity
presented itself, he’d just take one of the puppies for himself and hide it.
“Aiden, the medical crate has
been moved to the tent that has been designated as our future infirmary,” Larry
announced as he approached to deliver yet another progress report. “Gille,
Nathan, Hendrik and Kelby who’ve been helping you and Quentin unpack, have
piled up the blankets and pillows needed for tonight and moved all containers
of food supplies to the mess hall. Nathan also organised the relocation of all
the empty crates to the end of the clearing ready to use in the construction of
pens for the livestock. Yancey, Samuel, Brodie and Wayne have re-positioned a
lot of unopened containers but many still remain here. Every sleeping tent,
once they are set up of course, will have six pallets with two blankets and a
pillow for each man. Likewise, there are cots with necessary bedding for the
Infirmary when needed. And the fire pit is almost ready.”
“Och, we’ve certainly
accomplished a fair day’s work then.” Aiden was astonished at the young man’s ability to remember so many of the men’s names. “That grand aroma coming from the mess hall
is making me insides growl.” He laughed as his stomach bore witness to the
truthfulness of his words.
“By the way, we’re going to need a man or two willing to form a latrine
detail first thing in the morning, and sooner or later we’re going to need a well
dug.”
“Well, I can certainly see where yer military training is coming in
handy, lad.”
“Just now, I say we call it a
day and go have something to eat,” Quentin suggested, even though a quick
glance around showed a good number of crates and barrels untouched.
“Aye, I’ll just go fetch that
young lad I saw sitting on the sand by his wee self a while earlier,” Aiden
offered as he waved the two men on their way. He frowned when he noticed a man
dressed in what could only be a fancy gambler’s attire, walking towards the
mess hall and wondered where he’d been hiding out.
The sun was barely beginning
to show signs of its descent when Thomas looked down at the small figure curled
up in the sand, sleeping soundly. He momentarily thought to let the lad continue
to sleep but knew as important as rest was, Galen needed some good warm
nourishment to restore his health. He gently put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Galen, supper’s ready. It’s time to wake up.”
TBC…..
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