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“I understand.” He gestured forward. “Sheltering together is a prudent course of action.” He nodded and motioned for her to continue walking to the cabin. “As promised, in the morning we will discuss what is to be done, but for now, ash cakes.”
Ash cakes? She stepped forward, ignoring the foreign phrase, words hardly befitting the gratitude that swelled. “Thank you, Mr. Fredericks.”
They reached the cabin just as the drops began to flick harder against the dirt.
“Not at all.” He entered behind her, and closed the door before setting his attentions to the fire.
Anna took measure of the dank room. Very little furniture—only two chairs and a small bed frame, no tick. She lifted her chin to follow the stairs. Was there anything in the loft?
She stepped farther into the room, holding her bag tight against her to calm the growing disquiet. Was this his home? The man must be poor indeed. With his back to her, Anna tilted her head. He didn’t appear to have anything at all. The questions cascaded from her mind like a waterfall in spring. How old was he? Did he have a family? What was his trade, or was he simply a farmer? She watched as he gathered the logs and arranged them in the fireplace, making such a menial task look ruggedly appealing.
William Fredericks.
She tilted her head and mused. A strong name for a strong man. Yet somehow, the name didn’t seem to fit him at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
Anna pulled her cloak around her shoulders, squinting as she gazed through the cabin window when another flash and crack consumed the heavens. Large drops plunked against the glass and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, pondering the question she’d kneaded for the last half-hour since their arrival. Who had her father hired to find her? She could still smell the man’s breath and feel his rough hands on her arm. The way he’d spoken her mother’s name and the familiarity of his declaration that she resembled her mother made her squirm within her stays. So why had she detected a glimpse of tenderness in his eyes before he tried to force her away with him?
Thunder boomed again and her thoughts changed direction. She stole a glimpse over her shoulder at the man now hunched over the fire. A stranger. Yet, he had saved her. Why? To what purpose? Could someone truly be so sincere for the mere sake of Christian goodness? She turned back to study the wooded darkness and pulled her arms tighter around her. That kind of genuine kindness was not something she had often experienced, at least not from a man. But then, there had been Samuel…
Another boom of thunder shook the ground. Caustic memories tugged at her mind, chilling her soul as another storm crashed within. Cold rains of loneliness and winds of despair threatened to topple the newly constructed hope of a better future. Anna squinted hard and pressed the destructive thoughts away.
“It isn’t much but should fill our bellies.”
Anna spun and glanced at the man who crouched beside the glowing embers.
Using a straight stick he turned over several gray circular objects that rested beside the red embers. “Supper is nearly ready.”
At the mention of a meal her belly grumbled, but another celestial boom covered the unladylike sound. Blessedly. She didn’t wish to bring more attention to herself than her circumstance already provided. Whatever he offered, how little that may be, she planned to eat as daintily as she could. The ravenous hunger would fight to be satiated, and she couldn’t bear for him to look on her with any more pity than he already did.
Coming toward the fireplace, she reached for the nearest chair but he darted up and pulled it for her, settling it near the warmth. The hidden smile in his features snipped the remaining thread of apprehension at being in such proximity with someone she hardly knew. A mysterious, male someone. He stepped aside when she sat and she nodded her thanks, too shocked at his genuine chivalry to attempt a verbal response.
The orange glow from the embers radiated little brightness, but what did reach him shadowed his face in perfect chiaroscuro. A magnificent contrast of dark and light. A realness with an alluring contrast of mystery.
Again Anna looked around the empty cabin then pinned her gaze upon the man. Such a dreary place to live. Had he been here long? This house was far too bare to sustain one’s needs, not to mention lacking in basic up-keep. But then again, perhaps a man needed far less than a woman.
His gaze met hers and she stilled at the clarity in his eyes. A half-smile tugged at his mouth then vanished when he looked away. Had she been staring? Her cheeks burned. Gather yourself, Anna. For shame.
“Your supper.” He plucked a cake from the embers and reached out, holding a flat, gray disk in a handkerchief. “Be careful not to burn your mouth.”
“Thank you.” She took it, cloth and all, careful that her fingers didn’t touch his.
He pulled the other chair to the opposite side of the fire and sat. Removing another disk from the heat, jostled it in his hands before pulling off a piece, blowing on it, and popping it into his mouth.
Anna fingered the warm, round cake and sniffed it. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the morsel in her hands. She froze and shot a look to the man who sat opposite her. Did he know it was covered in ash? Of course he must. She glanced again at the food in her hands. Calling them “ash cakes” as he had, she should have understood. But this?
Licking her lips, she gave him a side glance, squirming. Ash! Never in her life had she eaten anything so primitive.
She stared, gathering the frantic parts of herself that chased around her mind like screaming children, and heartily scolded every one. Who was she? The kind of woman who scoffed at anything not presented on china plates? Although in England she may have eaten only from the finest dishes, she was not that kind of woman. And this li
fe—this new life—was one she welcomed with every portion of her being. Ash and all.
She lowered her head as the reprimand nestled in her middle and the largest portion of her humiliation fell on its back. How ungrateful could she be? And then, the largest shame upon her ingratitude slashed her remaining dignity. He had cooked it, had not even implied that such was a woman’s job as so many other men might have done. She flicked a gaze at him as he took another bite. He could have easily assumed she knew how to cook. And why not?
She lifted the bread to her nose and sniffed as she prepared for a bite.
“You don’t care for ash cakes?”
