A pain pressed her chest. This would be a special gift for Audrey. It seemed like many of Evan’s gifts were directed toward her friend. Yet how could she be jealous? Audrey deserved this, and Evan was kind to offer his knowledge. After all, if she had heard what Gerald said of her, she would be hurt.
A footstep sounded in the hallway. That was Audrey’s tread, and the soft knock confirmed it. The bar clanged as Audrey lifted it, then her face appeared in the open doorway.
Brielle pushed to her feet and stepped toward her friend, watching for signs of embarrassment or pain from the things Gerald had said.
Audrey’s smile held a tinge of sadness as she stepped into the room, but her voice possessed its normal cheeriness. “I came to see if you need anything.” Her gaze swung between her and Evan, then returned to Brielle. “I know you weren’t exactly planning to be here today.”
Maybe this could be her chance to get Evan’s packs. The council had commanded he be kept with a guard at all times, so she couldn’t leave him alone in the room, even if she felt certain he wouldn’t escape. But it would be fine for Audrey to stay with him, just for a few moments.
“I do need to get something. Can you wait until I return?”
Audrey’s eyes widened and her words came hesitantly. “Of course.”
Brielle worked to hold in her grin as she shot a glance at Evan. “I’ll be right back.”
The packs were still heaped against the wall in Brielle’s family’s apartment where she’d left them. She pulled out the two knives and laid them with the musket, then draped the larger satchel over her shoulder and gripped the other in her hand. She scooped up a quill and ink and a flat rock her brother had found, then headed back to the storage room.
When she arrived, Audrey was telling Evan about the clouds that looked like they would bring snow before the day’s end. A safe topic, given all that had occurred that morning, but the thought of more snow rarely brought Brielle pleasure.
The winter months would be on them in earnest soon, bringing darkness and a cold so fierce that none of them would be truly warm again until spring came.
Evan’s gaze turned on her the moment she stepped into the room, and the smile that played in his eyes washed away thoughts of winter.
“Well.” Audrey pressed her hands to her hips. “If there’s nothing else you need, I should go check the stew.”
Brielle sent her friend a nod. “Thank you. Evan told me about a metal box we can build to make your cooking easier.” She motioned to the items she carried. “He’s going to sketch an image of it.”
Audrey’s eyes brightened. “Wonderful.” She sent them both a beaming smile, then slipped from the room.
15
Yesterday had been one of the best Brielle could remember. In fact, she couldn’t seem to stop recalling every moment now, as she marched through the fresh snow on snowshoes.
She’d spent most of the day sitting with Evan. For hours, they went through each item in his pack, and he told stories of how he’d obtained them. The mercantile owner who’d sold him the leather-bound journal. The mouth harp given to him by one of their neighbors back in Scotland just before he left for America. And the graphite pencil ... She’d never heard of such a thing, but it worked like a piece of coal from the fire. Only it was surrounded by wood to keep the charcoal from blackening the writer’s hands, and the coal seemed to last forever, barely wearing down when he wrote.
He’d allowed her to write in the book of blank pages, and she was able to form tiny letters that didn’t smudge or blur. For the first time, she had a peek into what her people might be missing by living so secluded from the rest of the world. There was probably a great deal more than what she’d learned. Was keeping their village hidden from danger really worth missing out on such wonders?
He’d also sketched out the cookstove, and with the details he shared about air flow and cooking heat, she could see why the contraption would make preparing food easier. He’d said he would work on more sketches of detailed areas, like the ventilation and warming oven.
But what she enjoyed most about the day was the insight into his life. He didn’t seem to have roots grounded anywhere, moving as his work required. When she’d asked where he lived, he shrugged and mentioned he rented quarters when he needed them in a place called Washington. But a bitterness had tinged his tone with the words. Did he wish for a permanent home? Who wouldn’t want such?
He’d mentioned his deceased wife a couple times, both in passing. A glimmer of sadness had dimmed his eyes when he spoke of her, but not so much that he still seemed shrouded in grief.
She still didn’t have a good understanding of what their marriage had been like. For that matter, she hadn’t come to terms with how shewantedit to have been.
But that was selfish. Of course, she wanted him to have been happy. Something was growing between the two of them, but she couldn’t be so naïve and selfish as to think it was anything close to what he’d had with the woman he’d loved enough to marry.
She had to stop thinking about such things, or it would drive her mad. She’d come out of the village walls this morning to regain the clarity that hiking through the mountains always brought, but every thought seemed to lead back to Evan.
She focused on her surroundings, on the scrawny trees growing along the hillside she was traversing. She strained to hear the cry of a falcon or the throaty call of a grouse.
Where were all the animals?
She froze, then moved closer to a tree as she searched the landscape around her. Something wasn’t right, but she had to find out if the threat was animal or man.
Then, over the distant horizon, a form shifted. She squinted to pierce the haze of sun on snow.
Two figures moved, then rose steadily until she could make out the shapes of people treading around the side of the mountain. When they came fully into view, she finally released her breath. Those red feathers were the trademark of Itchka, the leader of the tribe to the west. They were one of the Dinee tribes that lived near enough to come occasionally for trading.
