She found the shack. It had taken her the entire day, and the sun was now beyond the trees on it’s way down. Laura’s muscles trembled from the effort it had taken to remain on Jack. Without a saddle, it was nearly impossible for her to move too fast. Thankfully Allen had given her enough information to let her know which direction her shack was and even more thankfully, she had never brought Donovan there as a child so he wouldn’t know where to look for her.
Carefully, she slid down the beasts side and landed shakily on her frozen feet. They had gone numb some time ago, and she feared that her foot would be black with frost bite when she pulled the boot off. The temperature had dropped and flakes of snow coated her hair. She had pulled her hair loose in an effort to cover her ears, and it had worked for the most part. Had Allen not given her the blanket, she surely would have fallen off the horse as a frozen corpse. As it was, she was also sure that if she couldn’t get a fire started in the little fireplace, it would be the only thing that would see her through the morning.
Her mind had whirred the whole time she and Jack had searched for the shack. Whether it had been the cold numbing her, or just her numb soul, she hadn’t shed a tear for her father’s blatant hate for her, or for her missing maidenhood. It had all been her fault. All of it. If she hadn’t given up the one thing that she had been told was for her husband only, she would have gotten out with her father and they could have found a new home. Now, she felt more alone than when she had thought her father was dead. His hate nearly hurt worse than if he had died. What would Charles have said to her if he’d found out?
She tied Jack’s reigns to a long rope. He wouldn’t wander but she wanted him to be able to try and forage for some tall grass. There was some hay left from her last hunting trip but she wanted to give it to him sparingly until she could find more. Jack was lucky because Laura had no food to speak of. She would have to spend the next day fashioning arrows so that she could hunt for something. Her stomach growled at the thought. Right now, even a squirrel sounded good, but first she needed a fire and to warm her feet.
Once Jack was tended to, she entered the frosty shack but at least it cut the wind. It was small, a bed on one side with a pile of blankets, and a fireplace a few feet away with wood stacked up on the other. There was a hook to hang her coat, if she had one, and a small table to sit and eat at. Otherwise, it was bare for a few pots and pans that hung over the fireplace. She had a few tools stashed away in a bin under the bed. There was a hunting knife she kept hidden in case her good one broke and she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief at the thought.
Slowly she pulled the bow from her back, her muscles protesting. The blanket had been wrapped around it, and she felt the pelt. It was thick and black, but now wet from the snow. The waxy course fur beneath her fingers told her it was a bear, which explained the size of it. Hanging the bow up on the coat hook proved to be more difficult than she imagined. Her fingers were far more numb than she had realized and her dexterity had left her. Getting a fire started would be hard.
Laura stacked some wood and grabbed her flint, stuffing some cotton between the tent of wood. She banged the stones together hoping that it would start easy. The wood was dry but her fingers dropped the stones more often than not. After numerous curses, her weary bones could take little more. A small spark landed in the tinder in her palm and she carefully nursed it to a glowing ember until it sucked the oxygen from the room and grew into a flame. “Thank you, Lord.” She said to herself and placed it under the log tent.
Within a few minutes the wood had caught and she went outdoors to gather some snow in a pot. Her stomach ached and a small twinge of jealousy hit her when she saw that Jack had pushed some snow aside and found a spot of grass where he munched to his hearts content. Once the pot was full of clean white snow, Laura pulled off some needles on a nearby pine tree, that sat next to the shack. The water and pine would serve a dual purpose. Once she had it over the fire, and melting she dropped the thin grey aromatic needles into the water. The hot water would warm her up, and the needles made a tea to ease her stomach, until she could hunt for something more substantial. There were wild edibles she could hunt for, but not at the moment. The tea wouldn’t hold her for very long, but it was something that could be done with little effort.
