Inside, Erika had to place her hand behind her back to stop her finger from automatically lifting and blocking her nostrils from the foul stench. It smelled horribly of mildew and rotting timber. Eyes watering, she glanced around the shabby room and tried to force her mind on something other than the horrible smell.
But the sight that greeted her wasn’t much more pleasing. In the one corner, a small kitchen was set up where Mathilda Layman headed toward a small and rusty cooktop. In the center of the room, four chairs with torn upholstery coverings were placed in front of a fireplace that looked as if the black soot hadn’t been scrubbed off the mantle in years.
At the cooktop, Mathilda Layman lit a burner and then placed a kettle already full of stale water over the hot plate, before slipping into a back room. Erika placed a hand over her midriff at the thought of actually drinking anything produced from that kettle, but said nothing as she watched the woman return with a plate of biscuits.
While the old man helped himself to the fudge from her basket, Erika headed for the warmth of the fireplace. She tore off her gloves and held her frozen fingers over the flames. She couldn’t recall feeling such relief as she rubbed her hands thaw.
“Perhaps the lady would like a warm blanket,” Angus Laymen said, eyeing her near the fire.
And some wool mittens, a fur cap, and a pair of thick warm boots would be oh so nice as well, she thought. However, one look around the filthy little room and Erika cringed at the thought of what little critters could possibly be living in their blankets. So she shook her head and answered, “I’m fine, thank you.”
The old man shrugged and nestled himself into a cushioned rocking chair while his wife took five mugs down from the shelf above the cooktop and said, “Ryan, sit down and tell us all about your voyage.”
Feeling life begin to tingle in the tips of her fingers once again, Erika turned around and looked for an available seat. The small area only had room for four chairs. With the old man occupying the rocking chair, and Ryan taking the seat opposite Mathilda Layman as she waited anxiously for him to begin his stories, left only the one remaining seat available.
She headed in that direction, however stopped when Jay suddenly dropped his large frame into it. Clenching her jaw, she curled her fingers inward and gave him a scowling look. Ignoring her, he reached into his coat and retrieved a cigar. Then sitting leisurely back in his chair, crossed one ankle over his knee and surveyed the room with lazy eyes. Her anger began to rise, but she forced herself to remain poised, reminding herself Jay Colby was not worth the fight.
Spinning on her heel, she then headed back to the fire, though at that point, was far from needing its warmth as her boiling temper was doing a fine job of keeping her warm.
While Mrs. Layman began pouring the hot coffee into the mugs, Ryan started in on his story. Erika listened with only half an ear. In all honesty, nothing new ever truly happened on his travels, but it was his presentation and the way he told his stories that always had the ability to make them sound fresh and new.
“This should help warm your insides,” the woman said as she handed Erika her mug. Thanking her with a smile, she glanced down at the muddy liquid and groaned internally. So far, this first mini adventure of Erika’s was turning out horribl
y. She couldn’t even get a decent cup of coffee.
Sighing, she took a tentative sip and turned away instantly so the old couple couldn’t see her face grimace from disgust.
The next little while Ryan entertained the room with his tales from the Great Lakes and Erika attempted unsuccessfully to finish her hot drink. She tried the woman’s biscuits and was relieved that at least she hadn’t been exaggerating on that account.
With some food in her belly and even the horrible tasting coffee warming her insides, Erika was beginning to feel her spirits lift. Particularly after one point when Jay polished off his mug and quietly left the room, leaving the chair vacant for Erika.
Feeling far more content, she relaxed in his chair and listened as Ryan retold his adventure. They stayed much longer than she thought. To the point when Ryan had long finished his story, he picked up his harmonica and began playing for the enjoyment of the couple. Not really looking forward to getting back on the trail, she did however notice the lateness of the hour and knew they still had a few more farms to visit.
Slipping out of her chair, she went over to the window to see if Jay had gone to hitch up the horses, but instead saw him chopping wood in the couple’s yard. Irritated, she pulled on her mittens and slipped out of the house.
“Jay Colby, I hardly think we have time for that,” she told him, hands on her hips. “Ryan has been indoors trying to keep that old couple entertained while you’re out here whittling away at this wood. Now, as I understand, we have plenty more visits to make before the day is through. In order for us to be home before sunset, I suggest we get on the road as soon as possible.”
He didn’t reply immediately, instead continued whacking away at a huge log between his feet. If anything, she thought he appeared to be driving his ax a great deal more vigorously than before, and Erika feared he would take off a foot. That was all she needed today. Travelling with a bloody, grumpy, ill-mannered, and footless man.
With a final violent blow, he imbedded the ax into the log and then straightened to look at her.
“This may surprise you Erika, but not everyone jumps at your beck and call. And, seeing as your warped point of view has a hard time grasping the concept, let me explain. That old man in there is too weak to chop a sufficient supply of wood for what’s left of the winter. If I don’t do it, they won’t have enough to keep them warm and the possibility of freezing to death, especially at their age, is a very good likelihood.”
“Don’t be so self-pompous, Jay Colby, and I’m not that inane. I’m sure there is someone around who can help them out.”
“Where?” He looked at her with disbelief. “Did you see any other homesteads on our way? They’re childless and the closest neighbor is a mile away.”
“Far closer than you.” She pointed out.
Shaking his head, he reached for the ax again and rudely decided to ignore her most obvious valid point.
Erika rolled her eyes infuriatingly at him, then turned and marched back to the house. If she couldn’t talk any sense into Jay, she more than likely would be successful with Ryan.
The sound of laughter filled the small cabin as she approached, and Erika peevishly thought that at least someone was enjoying themselves.
“Ryan, I think it is time we move on, don’t you?”
He looked up startled. “Jay all done with the wood?”