Marysvale (12 page)

“
There is a spare feather
bed upstairs you can use,” she said.

I hesitated.

“
Are you married?” I
asked.

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow
and answered, “No.”

“
Do you think it would
be…?”

She cut me off.

“
I’m flattered you’d ask;
but really I think you’re a little too young for me,” she
teased.

My face flushed and I stammered,
“No…that’s…that’s not what I meant….”

She laughed again.

“
Relax, John. I know what
you meant. You can sleep with the animals in the barn if you think
it’s more appropriate than sleeping in the same house with an
unmarried woman. Or, there is a warm feather bed up the stairs.
It’s your decision; but I think you will get much more rest, and
will heal faster if you sleep well.”

I debated for a moment; but I already
knew what I was going to do.

Moments later, I found myself in a
small room, with an equally small window that faced the woods. The
bed was soft and warm; something I appreciated even more after
surviving the previous nights in the wet and cold. Recalling my
experience sent me burrowing deeper under the blankets. It felt so
good to be clean and fed. I watched the moonlight stream through
the window until the warm bed, and my own weariness, overcame the
ache in my shoulder; and I drifted off to a most welcome
sleep.

T
HE
following day—or more accurately, afternoon—came all
too soon. Groggily, I forced myself out of bed, got dressed, and
went downstairs. The kitchen and the front sitting room were empty.
Not wanting to venture into the nether regions of the house, for
privacy’s sake, I made my way out onto the porch. The weather was
warm, making it feel more like spring than fall. I sagged down onto
a swing, suspended by ropes from the overhanging roof, and rubbed
the remaining sleep from my eyes. My shoulder, though less sore,
still protested sharply with pain, if moved too much. Studying my
surroundings a little further, I discovered some things I’d missed
during my quick entry. Along with the livestock, there were pigs
and chickens in the pasture, fenced off in their own little pens. A
garden, with most of the vegetables now harvested, spread out to
the left of the house; and an orchard grew beyond that, nearer to
the lake. I found it quite beautiful and wondered how one person
managed it all.

I continued my surveillance past the
orchard and lingered on the woods, perhaps still expecting some
gigantic creature to come barreling out into the clearing. Nothing
happened. Something was odd about all this: the monsters and Sarah.
My mind began to wander.
Why did they leave this place alone?
Maybe they weren’t anything more than just animals, like wolves,
afraid of civilization.
However, I doubted that. Oddly, they
moved more like humans than animals. Even though I may be giving
them too much credit, I had the suspicion that the trunk, which
blocked the path yesterday, was more of a trap than some random,
fallen tree. It was placed just right, where a rider wouldn’t see
it until he crested the hill, and it would be too late to do much
of anything, except run into it. I wanted to know more about the
monsters—they both horrified and intrigued me.

There was also Sarah…. I liked her.
Something about her seemed familiar and made me feel at ease. But
why couldn’t I read her? It frustrated me. There was something
there; I just couldn’t see past the thick veil that blocked me out.
I wanted answers. I wanted to know Sarah, though I wasn’t ready to
ask her to open up her soul and mind, so I can find out her
secrets. I also didn’t want her asking about my gifts; especially
since I wasn’t sure I understood them myself.

Still clueless, I got up and went to
check on Smoke. He was no worse for wear and seemed pleased to see
me. I fed him, refilled his water, patted him for a bit, and then
wandered down to the lake.

The old boat was gone, and I concluded
that Sarah must have taken it out, along with the dog. Deciding to
enjoy the warm rays of the sun, I lay down on the dock and drifted
lazily into that strange state between sleep and
consciousness.

The sound of splashing pulled me back
to reality. I sat up and watched Sarah row towards the dock. The
rickety boat, looking to be one stroke away from sinking, was so
small that it would probably be better suited as fish bait. She
was, once again, dressed much like a man, except now she wore a
three-cornered hat; and a large, wool vest covered her white shirt.
The dog rode precariously on the bow, nose sticking out as if
pointing the way. I did my best to stifle the fit of laughter
bubbling inside me.

“
You’re alive after all,”
she called out.

Still grinning, I hollered back,
“Sorry, I must have overslept.”

“
There’s nothing to
apologize for. If I wanted you awake, I would have woken you. Rest
is the best thing you can be doing right now.”

She rowed up close and tossed me a
line. I pulled the boat up to the dock and held it steady while she
and the dog got out.

“
Thank you,” she said.
“Here, you can hold these while I finish securing the
boat.”

Handing me three large trout, she tied
the small vessel to the dock.

“
How’s your shoulder
feeling?”

“
Doing better.”

“
Good,” she intoned,
unconvinced. “Perhaps I’d better have a look though. I’ve found
that men tend to oversimplify things sometimes.”

I laughed and we walked back to the
cabin where, under orders, I removed my shirt.

“
It does look better,” she
muttered, more to herself than to me.

I thought it looked worse—it was all
black and purple. However, I felt vindicated that it was indeed
doing better, and guessed the gash was sealing itself. Besides,
nothing seemed to be oozing, so that must be a good
sign.

“
When do you think the
stitching can come out?” I asked hopefully.

“
Not for a few
days.”

I grunted.

“
Why? Are you in a hurry to
get back?”

“
Well…no. I can’t say I’m
looking forward to a journey back through monster-infested
woods.”

“
I wouldn’t think so. It’s
really best not to press your luck until you’ve healed. You’ll stay
here, of course, until you’re ready?”

I was relieved. It must have shown on
my face because, before I could give her my answer, she said,
“Good. There are matters we should discuss.”

Quizzically, I asked, “Really? Like
what?”

“
First let’s eat and then
we’ll talk.”

Indeed I was hungry and said, “I won’t
argue with that.”

She smiled. “Yes—and you’ll learn it’s
best not to argue with me at all.”

I grinned. “No, I can see
that.”

“
Now, let’s see if you can
be obedient and get out of my way while I get the food
ready.”

I was obedient and the food was
delicious.

After lunch, we retired to the porch,
with a cup of tea (which was also delicious). Thankfully, she left
the ridiculous hat inside. It would have been difficult to have a
serious conversation with that on her head.

“
So, what did you want to
discuss?” I inquired.

“
Get right to the point
don’t you?”

“
Umm, I suppose it’s in my
nature….We can just sit if you’d rather.”

“
That would be nice,” she
said and took a sip of her tea.

There are times when a conversation is
desired, and other times when it is enough just to enjoy each
other’s presence; this was one of the latter. We watched the cows
roam around the pasture in no particular fashion. A warm, gentle
breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and caressed my face.
Despite the warmth, there was still a suggestion of fall in the
air. I thought of the calm before the storm, lulling the
unsuspecting into a false security. As quickly as the weather can
change, so can our fate. In an instant, victory can change to
defeat and defeat to victory. I was nearly overcome in the woods,
yet here I was.
Had I really conquered defeat or simply
postponed it?
I pondered that question.

Sarah finally broke the
silence.

“
I’ve always enjoyed sitting
here, with the fragrance of the forest in the air, and the quiet
sounds the wind makes.”

I agreed and told her so. I also took
advantage of the broken silence and decided to fish for
information.

“
If you keep avoiding my
questions, I’m going to think you’re hiding something.”

She smiled.

“
I told you, I am,” she said
teasingly. It wasn’t a flirtatious tease, it was more like joking
between two old friends; and it had the surprising effect of
disarming me. I found myself opening up in ways I normally wouldn’t
with a stranger.

I played along. “And why would you want
to do that?”

“
Because… if I give you all
the answers, you’ll leave.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“
Sooner or later I’ll leave
anyway.” I replied, although I had no desire to go.

“
I know; but I prefer
later,” she said.

“
I didn’t know I had such an
effect on women.”

“
Oh yes, I’m very sure you
do.”

Continuing the banter, I said, “Well,
now that you mention it, I do know my appearance is quite
irresistible to your kind.”

“
Quite,” she said, trying to
keep a straight face.

“
And my demeanor can be very
intoxicating.”

“
Naturally. You’re
forgetting, no doubt, your incredible strength and quick
wit.”

“
My dear woman, if you’d be
patient I was getting there.”

“
Ooh, beg your pardon, sir.
Apparently, I had forgotten about your modesty, too.”

“
Yes, of course—quite
understandable in light of my other qualities.”

She laughed. “You better stop before I
change my mind and throw you out.”

“
Maybe you should, you
barely know me.”

“
Perhaps I will, but not
yet. After all that time I spent fixing you up, it would be such a
waste.”

“
I am thankful for your
help,” I said more seriously. “I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be
alive now, had I not found your place.”

“
Yes, well, I’m glad you
did. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m going to put
you to work when you’ve healed up a bit,” she said with a wry
smile.

“
It’s the least I can do,” I
replied truthfully.

Letting her playful demeanor slip away,
she said, “You can do something else for me.”

“
Really?” I asked. Based on
her change of tone I wasn’t really sure I wanted to, but offered
anyway, “If I can.”

“
I want to know what
happened to you in the forest.”

“
I was attacked by the
monsters and one nearly got me,” I answered
matter-of-factly.

She rolled her eyes.

“
See? This is what I meant
when I said men tend to oversimplify things,” she said with
exasperation. “I know all that. What I want to know are the
details.”

“
Yes, I suppose you’re
entitled. All of the particulars then?”

“
Spare nothing.”

I told her the tale and tried not to
leave anything out. However, it appeared that my efforts were in
vain, because she would occasionally ask for information that I
didn’t think relevant, such as: how long it rained, how far we ran,
whether or not I could smell them, or if I noticed anything odd
about the forest, and so on.

When satisfied, she stated, “You’re
lucky; few people survive their first encounter.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
By the time they realize
something’s wrong, it’s too late to do anything about
it.”

“
I suppose I can see how
that would happen,” I said. “When we were attacked, if I had been
any slower, it would have been my neck slashed open instead of my
shoulder.”