During the tale, James is startled when his leg is unexpectedly thumped. The dogs had taken position beneath the table and James notices that Corbin and his family toss the bones and other scraps down to them. The dogs spend the meal happily, and noisily, gnawing away on the bones. James even caught Cyanna magnanimously sharing a few of her vegetables with them as well.
When dinner concludes, the men retire to the living room for a smoke and a cup of ale. Ceryn comes to James and takes his leave. “I’m heading down to the Squawking Goose. I promised to tell the story of the bandit attack. You’ll be fine here. Corbin’s a good man, if a bit grumpy at times.”
“I heard that!”
“Of course you did, I said it for your benefit.” Smiling, Ceryn continues, “If I don’t see you when I return afterward, take care.” With that he extends his hand and James shakes it.
“Goodbye, Ceryn. Thanks for all you have done for me.”
“I’d say we are even. I saved your life, and now you’ve saved mine.” Ceryn says goodbye to Corbin and his family and then heads out the door to the stables where he readies his horse for the ride into town.
Mary and the girls show James to his room where he finds his backpack and spear already resting in a corner. Devin must have put them there when he took care of the wagon. The room is rather small. James sits on the edge of the bed and finds it to be quite soft and comfortable. The furnishings are sparse, with but a bed, nightstand and a squat three legged stool. There is also a small chest in which to store clothes positioned at the foot of the bed. James lies on the bed and relaxes. A window above his head allows a soft breeze to waft in and soon lulls him to sleep.
Long before he has any desire to shed the veil of sleep, an annoying rooster beneath his window begins to crow; making a general nuisance of itself. The insistent crowing prevents him from being able to return to sleep. Every time he was about to fall asleep, the rooster would crow, startling him back to consciousness.
Sighing, he realizes that further sleep is simply impossible with that racket going on outside. He lies in bed for some time hoping the rooster will stop, but the annoying bird seems content to crow all morning long. Exasperated, he finally gives up completely and sits on the edge of the bed. Feeling better for the full night’s sleep, but wishing the rooster had picked a spot farther removed from his window to greet the morning, he gets out of bed and makes his way to the window. It’s a little rooster that stands beneath his window. It cocks its head to one side and looks up at James out of one eye as if to say “Yes? You want something?”
“Shoo!”
As if in spite, the rooster crows one last time before walking away.
The world outside looks to be the beginnings of a beautiful, summer day. The sun has already risen a good distance over the horizon and he spies Corbin and Devin out in the nearby field hard at work. The faint odor of bacon is in the air and his stomach growls. Starving, James makes his way from his room.
He finds Mary shelling peas at the table where they had dinner the night before. She glances up as he emerges from his room. “Feeling better?”
About to answer, he waits as a yawn that could not be denied expresses itself. “A little.” His leg did throb, but not nearly to the degree it had yesterday. It must be on the mend.
“We thought it best not to wake you. Ceryn came by earlier and picked up his wagon. He left for home an hour ago.” Taking another pod, she cracks it open and empties the peas into a bowl already half filled with the round objects. “Corbin and Devin are out in the field, as is Elizabeth. Cyanna is around here somewhere. Are you hungry?”
The growl from his stomach is all the answer she needs. Smiling, she rises and says, “I know how to fix that.” She taps the chair next to her. “Sit here and I will bring you something.” She sets the empty pod on the discard pile before disappearing into the kitchen only to return a short time later with a plate full of biscuits and a small jar of jam. She places the plate in front of him then returns to the kitchen. When next she emerges, she bears a skillet containing eggs and potatoes from breakfast. She scrapes the rest onto his plate. “The eggs may be a bit cool, they’ve been ready for a while.”
Cool though the eggs may be, they are very good. He puts a hearty helping of jam on his biscuit and takes a bite. The taste brings back the memories of his grandmother’s biscuits and produces a touch of homesickness.
“Good breakfast, it reminds me of home.”
Returning to her peas she smiles at the compliment. “Ceryn says he found you lost in the woods, almost ready to be killed by a pack of wolves?” More a question than statement, she cast him a glance as another pod split under her expert hands.
“That’s true, he did. If it wasn’t for him I’d be dead.”
“How did you get in those woods in the first place, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Not sure what to say he settles for, “It’s kind of hard to explain, really. I don’t exactly know how I got there to tell you the truth.” It was the truth in that he couldn’t tell her exactly, but he did have a few unsubstantiated theories.
“Poor boy. Are you planning on returning home when your leg heals?”
James nods. “I intend to, but I may stay around here, at least for a while.” Finishing the last of the breakfast and feeling very satisfied, he sits back and watches her extract peas from the next couple of pods. She has a large pile of them yet to shell. “If you like, I could help you with that. I used to help my grandmother when I was back home.”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
Rising, she removes his dirty plates and brings him a bowl. Placing it before him, she divides the pile of peas, giving herself the larger portion, and then they begin shelling in earnest. He feels good about his progress, his bowl fills at a steady pace and soon his hands are shelling like a pro. His pile is nearly reduced by half when Cyanna comes in with the dogs trotting beside her. Spying James shelling peas with her mother, she comes and sits in the chair next to him. The dogs take up position on the floor beneath the table.
Mary kicks at the dogs and exclaims, “Outside you two!” The dogs hop up and race back outside. “They’d stay in here all day if I let them.”
James nods and gives her a grin. Taking another pod he splits it open, deposits the peas into his bowl, then reaches for another.
“Would you like to go see the pond out back?” Cyanna asks. “It’s got lots of ducks in it.”
James looks at Mary who nods and smiles “Don’t be too long, lunch will be ready in an hour or so. Thank you for your help, James.”
He had just enough time to blurt out a quick, “Thank you,” before Cyanna grabs his hand and pulls him toward the door.
Unable to go as fast as she would like due to his leg, she continuously encourages him to hurry up with a firm, steady pull on his arm. “If we don’t hurry, the ducks will all be gone before we even get there.” Once out the front door, the dogs run over to join them on their walk.
On the way she gives him the grand tour of all the different things to be found on their farm. She points out the chicken house, the dog houses, and all the other things a little girl is interested in.
Continuing a little farther brings the pond with the ducks into view. He agrees with her that there are a lot of ducks out on the water. There are several different species, none exactly matching any he’d ever seen back home. But ducks are ducks and finding a good spot to sit, they relax and do nothing more than enjoy watching their antics.
James finds a comfortable spot nestled against the side of a tall tree. Once he’s settled, Cyanna sits right next to him. He couldn’t help but smile.
“When I was little, my father would take me camping in the mountains near where I grew up. We would hike a long way through the mountains, sometimes taking as much as two days before reaching our campsite. Often, we would camp near a lake and it always felt like we were the first people to have ever been there. Many times we watched the geese as they came in to rest on their trip south.”
“Where is your father now?”
“Dead. He’s been gone for some time now.”
“That’s sad.”
“Sometimes I really miss him. But he’s never really gone, not as long as I keep him alive in my memories.”
“Mama and papa are never going to die. They said so.”
