Part 2 (2/2)

Miss Smith's cough turned to a splutter. If Mr. Abrams had bathed even once in the past six months, Ian would have been amazed. Out in the open, his smell hadn't been quite so overpowering, but in the close confines of the cabin, Abrams's stench grew stronger by the second. Opening the one tiny window wouldn't begin to help.

”Miss Smith”-Ian looked across the table at her-”do you need some fresh air?”

Tucker grabbed his plate and hers as he shot to his feet. ”Good of you to understand, Rafferty. Come, Sis. We'll all go on outside to finish supper. After the long winter, it's best you get as much light and fresh air as you can.”

”Since you insist.” She rose with alacrity.

”Go on ahead.” Abrams sounded downright jolly. ”I'll get the bread.”

”I'll tend to that.” Ian smiled. ”Since her brother's hands are full, I'll help the lady with her cape.”

Miss Smith nodded. ”Then I'll carry the bread.”

Abrams made a disgruntled sound and trundled outside.

Ian took Miss Smith's cape from the peg by the door. ”I hope you'll leave some of the loaf in here so you can have it tomorrow morning.”

”You won't mind?”

”Why would I?” He slid the russet wool over her shoulders. ”You baked it.”

”But it's your flour.” She said that last word almost reverently.

”No, it wasn't.” He couldn't help himself. He moved her thick, glossy brown braid. It felt every bit as soft as it looked. ”Just as your brother shared the fish he caught and you shared your labor, I shared the flour.”

”You bringin' that bread out here?” Abrams hollered.

Ian chuckled. ”Now set aside some for yourselves before that ornery old man eats it all.”

Meredith sat outside by the fire. Smoke filtered up from it and through the fish Tucker had strung earlier in the day. That bounty alone already caused her to praise G.o.d for His provision today. The bread just proved how generous the Lord continued to be toward her and Tucker.

”You gonna eat that bread, or are you just gonna stare at it?”

”Of course she's going to eat it,” Tucker half growled.

Mr. Abrams stuck out his lower lip like a pouting toddler. ”No need to get touchy. Just didn't want good food to go to waste.”

”It was good food.” Mr. Rafferty set his plate down on the rock beside him and nodded at her. ”Miss Smith, you're a grand cook.” After she murmured her thanks, Mr. Rafferty gestured toward the line of fish. ”And Tucker, you're quite the fisherman. That's an impressive day's catch. I know for certain I'll never come close to a haul like that.”

Though she appreciated the compliment Mr. Rafferty paid to her cooking, Meredith especially appreciated how he praised her brother. Tucker enjoyed fis.h.i.+ng and was proud of having provided well for their meal. Having someone recognize his contribution-that mattered.

”I'm a miserable fisherman,” Mr. Rafferty continued. ”But I do like to hunt. Once I erect a cabin, I'm planning to build a smokehouse.”

”You handled that bow well today.” Tucker skidded the last bite of his bread over his plate, gathering the last little flakes of fish. ”Even so, I'm glad to see you brought a firearm.”

”I read a fair bit when I decided to come north. Judging from the landscape and region, I'm hoping to get grouse, pheasant, and rabbit. My bow will serve me well with those wee creatures. As for my rifle-one good-sized mountain sheep or caribou would certainly provide endless meals.”

”No caribou here. No deer, either.” Abrams burped loudly. ”You'd be smart to pan gold and pay for more supplies to see you through the winter. That canvas you brought-just double it over the lean-to, and you'll be snug enough. You don't have time to waste building a cabin, let alone a smokehouse. That plan's pure foolishness.”

Mr. Rafferty stared at the fire. Most men would have been insulted, but he didn't react. After a moment's silence, he asked, ”Are you folks familiar with a man by the name of Wily?”

”Yes,” Meredith said.

”Who isn't?” Abrams scowled. ”Worthless waste of a man.”

”Wily's a good man,” Tucker disagreed. ”Salt of the earth.”

”Salt?” Abrams spat off to the side. ”If that's what you want, he'll bring it. Won't deliver what's important, though.”

Tucker shrugged. ”A man has the right to run his own business. Wily's reliable. If he agrees to ferry someone or deliver something, his word is his bond.”

Relief radiated from their new neighbor. ”Percy introduced me to him. After I learned that Percy had hedged regarding the shelter, I wondered if he and Wily were in cahoots. Wily's to bring the remainder of my possessions in his boat.”

”You've got more stuff a-comin'?” Abrams leaned forward. ”Like what?”

”Necessities.”

Abrams slapped his knee. ”Now that was downright smart of you. Wily wouldn't pry. You said necessities, and he don't think the way you and me do. He won't guess what you got. I'm your neighbor. When-”

”If you're thinking I have spirits or tobacco coming, you're mistaken. Neither appeals to me, and they're certainly not essential.”

While Abrams moaned and groaned, Tucker rose. ”Speaking of necessities, we'd better string up the supplies you brought before we lose our light.”

”Hold on a second.” Abrams looked like a drowning man grasping for even the smallest twig. ”Ain't you gonna brew us up some coffee now, Meredith? You always make coffee when you got guests.”

”Which is why we ran out.” Tucker locked eyes with Mr. Rafferty. ”Learn from our mistake. There'll be no coffee tonight.”

”Now why'd you hafta go ruin it?” Abrams trundled toward the rope. ”No use me stickin' round here any longer. Time's better spent workin' my claim.” Once he crabbed his way across the river, the old man untied the rope from his tree. The cold air carried his dark mutterings.

As Mr. Rafferty pulled the rope over to his claim, Meredith gathered the dishes. The men sorted the supplies, and Meredith forced herself to wash the dishes. She oughtn't bustle over and stick her nose in the new neighbor's business. Though he seemed friendly enough, she didn't want him to feel as if they were trying to get on his good side so he'd give them food.

It didn't take them long to suspend the food from a tree. Rafferty accompanied Tucker back to their fire. ”Sis, Mr. Rafferty's asked to sleep by the fire here tonight. He'll add logs so the fish'll smoke.”

”Will you be warm enough?” As soon as she blurted out the question, Meredith regretted her haste. They didn't have blankets to spare.

” 'Tis kind of you to ask, but I've warm blankets aplenty.” He set down the bundle he'd carried in his left arm and carefully propped his rifle so it pointed away from the cabin.

The fire flickered again, and Meredith's breath caught. Atop his dark wool blanket rested a brown leather book. ”Is that a Bible?”

”It is.” He smiled. ”It's a blessing to know I have believers for my new neighbors.”

”Could you...would you...” Tears filled her eyes.

Tucker wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. ”Our Bible got wet. We tried to dry it, but pages started to mold. I cut the spine and salvaged half of it. I think my sister is asking if you'd mind reading something aloud.”

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