Chapter 8
EIGHT
Kallie
“Oh my.” The unknown voice is hushed, masculine with hints of an accent I can’t decipher. Air seals in my lungs, and I curse myself for being so careless. I knew to be out before first light, to say my goodbyes to the horse I’ve grown so easily attached to.
“Miss?” the man inquires. Jerking upright, pieces of hay embed in my skin as I scoot as far up the stack as I can.
“No need to be frightened,” the man says, holding his hands up in surrender, probably to convince me he’s not a threat.
He stands around six feet and some inches with a lean build but also has some muscle I can make out through the flannel and dark jeans. The skin on his hands looks tan and leathery, like he’s spent too many days out in the pastures, and if he has any hair, it’s hidden beneath a cowboy hat.
“Don’t come any closer!” I bark, attempting to seem more intimidating than I look.
Between the sack I have for clothes, my unkempt hair, and the scars marred over my body, I probably look like a homeless squatter.
“I don’t want any trouble. I just needed somewhere to rest my head for the night,” I explain, hoping I don’t have to fight my way out of this mess.
“You slept here all night?”
“That’s what I just said.” Is this guy dense?
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You could’ve just knocked on the front door. My Winnie and I would have offered you shelter.”
Eyeing him warily, I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Who would just let a stranger into their home? Especially one that looks like they’ve been sleeping under a bridge.
“I’m Harvey. And truth be told, I’m surprised Licorice let you in here. He’s normally pretty standoffish to newcomers—even to me some days.”
“Guess I’m the horse whisperer,” I joke, and I’m grateful he finds it funny.
“Why don’t you come in and get something to eat? My Winnie is cooking up breakfast while I get the farm all set up for the day. You could also grab a shower if you would like,” he offers, and at the mention of food, my stomach responds for me with a low grumble.
His eyes cast down toward the sound, raising an eyebrow.
“I think I’ll pass. If you could just point me in the direction of the next town, that would be great.” He looks taken aback at my refusal, but I don’t want to take that risk. For all I know, Callum and whoever else could be right down in the forest.
“Suit yourself.” He blows out a breath before continuing, “The next town is about five miles north.” He turns to point behind him.
“You’ll follow the dirt road until you come across a trail that runs through the trees, another two miles down that way will spit you out in the middle of town.
” With those instructions, he turns to walk out of the barn.
That’s a long way. But I can do it. I did more than that over the last two days, this should be a piece of cake.
Now an image of cake is plastered to the forefront of my mind, and I think about the food he offered—and the shower.
Hot showers I used to take for granted but now come sparingly.
A luxury I hadn’t been afforded in all the time I was held.
I weigh my options, deciding to shower quickly, eat even faster, and be on my way. Should things go south, I’ll burn this place to the ground.
Stepping off the hay bales, I rush toward the opening, spotting Harvey unlocking a pen that houses goats and sheep.
He spots me, and I swallow my pride before relenting, “If that offer is still on the table, I’ll take it.” He nods his head with a smile and wordlessly starts walking.
I keep my distance while Harvey leads the way to his home. It’s very charming. A white single-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. I note the two rocking chairs placed near the front door, a table resting between them, housing two empty coffee cups.
The sounds of cows mooing and chickens clucking out in the distance are replaced by the sound of dishes clanking in the nearby kitchen. Harvey opens the screen door, holding it open for me as I navigate over the three steps leading onto the porch.
“Honey, we have a visitor!” Harvey announces. Footsteps skate across the hardwood floor, and I barely notice the woman standing in the center of the room while I take in their home.
It’s small and quaint. Floral furniture sits in the living room along with a coffee table that’s littered with books. A glass cupboard is pressed against the far wall, housing pictures and what looks like memorabilia.
Instantly, I’m hit with the overwhelming scents of perfume and bacon. An odd mixture, but something about it puts me at ease. Maybe it’s a false sense of security.
“A visitor at this hour?” the woman—I’m assuming Winnie—questions. When our eyes lock, her face looks stricken, like she’s seen a ghost.
The woman stands a few paces away, wringing her hands on a drying towel. A long-sleeved flannel is worn underneath her overalls, and she has working boots on her feet. Her curly, gray hair rests just below her ears, and the front pieces are pinned back.
Her gaze bounces between me and her husband, confused and…worried? But before either of us can say anything, Harvey breaks the silence. “Winnie, dear, I found this young lady sleeping in Licorice’s stable.”
“Licorice? Of all the horses.” Her smile lights up the room, and she shakes her head.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Harvey says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“I didn’t offer it.” He finds my commentary funny, apparently, as he laughs again, looking back at his wife. “I offered her food and a shower. Perhaps you have some clothes she can wear?”
“Of course! Make yourself at home, dear. I’ll get another plate set while you get cleaned up.
Just a moment and I’ll put some fresh clothes on the counter in the bathroom for you.
” With those parting words, she disappears through the open doorway ahead.
Harvey dismisses himself and goes back outside to tend to the animals, I assume.
When Winnie re-emerges, she tells me to take as much time as I want. Although the offer is tempting, I make quick work washing up, only staying in the scalding-hot water a few extra seconds before shutting it off and getting redressed.
The black long-sleeve shirt is breathable and lightweight, and despite Winnie being around my usual size, the shirt hangs low on me like a dress, and the pants she laid out for me, dark-wash jeans that barely stay up on my newly narrow hips, need a belt. I try not to harp on that fact long.
My hair is sopping wet, and I decide to snag a discarded hair tie off the counter and take my long hair—that’s way overdue for a trim—and French braid it down the middle of my head.
Exiting the bathroom, I don’t hear any voices and assume Harvey is still out doing his morning chores. Poking my head into the kitchen, Winnie stands over the stove, moving bacon from the pan onto a plate.
She must feel my presence, because she looks to the side and jumps a bit, clearly startled.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she comments, hand on her chest.
“I move like the wind.”
“You don’t say.” Although her smile is contagious, I keep my lips in a firm line.
Her side profile showcases pointed ears poking out through her ringlets, and my fingers absentmindedly trace over the outline of my own.
Neither of us tries to make idle conversion, and I appreciate it. After I sit at the round kitchen table, she brings me a plate full of eggs, bacon, and a side of toast. Next, she carries over a glass pitcher filled with freshly squeezed orange juice.
The food steams with heat, and the smell wafts in my face, causing my stomach to growl loud. “Don’t be shy. Help yourself. There’s plenty to go around,” Winnie says, breaking the silence.
“Thank you.” The first taste of bacon raises a moan from my lips, and I shove the rest of the piece in my mouth. She stares at me blankly, concerned etched over her features.
The eggs are wonderful—something I remind myself with each forkful I shove in my mouth. Next, taking a bite of the toast, I let the jam that’s spread on it coat my tongue. My eyes close at the sweet taste of strawberries, and I decide to finish chewing before I choke.
Pouring the orange juice into my awaiting glass, I gulp it down before refilling it, letting everything settle in my stomach.
“Where are you coming from, dear?” The question catches me off guard.
“I’m not sure,” I say truthfully. “Could you tell me where we are?”
“Yes, we’re technically still in the town limits of Excidium.” She offers the information freely, and I’m grateful.
“Where is it you’re trying to get to?”
“I’m also not sure.” She looks at me with pity. I hate it.
Harvey decides that is the moment he’s going to barrel through the door, allowing the uncomfortable conversation to end.
“Goodness, it smells great in here.” His comment brings a smile back to Winnie’s face.
When he enters, he leans down and gives her a quick kiss on the top of her head before dishing himself up a plate of food.
“I’m sorry it took longer than I expected. Licorice was in high spirits today and let me clean his hoofs. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity,” he explains, piling eggs onto his plate. Harvey takes the seat next to Winnie, and after taking a bite of bacon, he looks between the two of us.
“Did you get enough to eat?” I’m thankful he didn’t comment on my appearance. I didn’t have the heart to look at myself in the mirror prior to showering. I nod my head in earnest, even though all I want to do is take the leftovers and make a run for it.
“I appreciate your hospitality. But I really should be going.” Standing from the table, the legs of the chair scratch across the floor, making the silence in the room that much more unbearable.
“Of course! I just wish you would have knocked when you arrived. Anything would’ve been better than that scratchy pile of hay.” Winnie’s eyes bug out of her head at Harvey’s statement.
Oh, how wrong he is.