The Water Witcher (Completed)

Chapter 16 - Good, Bad, Ugly

      On the walk back, the wind picked up as tumbleweeds rolled through the trailer park. When they entered their new dwelling, the darkness filled every corner as the metal door closed behind them. A match struck and the glass from a lantern on the small kitchen counter illuminated Ingrid’s face. Clara immediately went for the couch and curled into a ball, closing her eyes, but Corbin couldn’t find the will for his feet to move.

“Ingrid...” he said. “What are you doing with The Hounds?”

“I could ask you the same. I hoped you were somewhere far away and safe.” She set the pot of soup on the stove and reached for a serving ladle. “They killed Stanley the night I helped you escape from the house, but they spared my brother-in-law, Judah. He’s somewhere in this camp with a few other prisoners.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. He only had a few years left at the rate of his drinking.”

“Still. He was your husband.”

She gave a light shrug and began stirring the pot. “I was young when I met him and needed a home that didn’t require selling my body. He was a widow who needed someone to take care of him, and I grew to love him in my own way. Stanley took care of me the best he knew how but he could be cruel. You saw that.”

“And Isabelle?” Corbin asked as he crossed the small living room to the kitchen. “Is she safe here?”

“She’s a child. She’s surviving just like me and the leader of The Hounds is good to us,” she replied, causing Corbin’s stomach to slide into his boots. How could anyone find remarkable qualities in a man who sold people like animals? “Isabelle and I can roam the camp with none of his men touching us and he’s letting us stay in the spare bedroom of his trailer.”

“Ingrid...” Corbin swallowed. “He hasn’t forced himself on you, has he?”

“Didn’t I just say that we’re free here! No one touches us.”

“It might feel as if you’re free, but you’re not. If you were truly free, then you could leave this place.”

“I’m not being held against my will.”

Corbin’s brows lifted in surprise. “So you volunteered to be here?”

“Not exactly. It was stay behind in a home where Isabelle and I would be vulnerable to marauders or join the caravan as Merric’s servant. Plus...” She brought her eyes up to meet Corbin’s. “Stanley wasn’t Isabelle’s biological father. Judah is. Now, do you understand why I’m here?”

“Yes.” Corbin nodded. “So did Stanley know? is that why he was cruel to you?”

“No. Stanley was always cruel, but if he suspected something, he never said it. He loved Isabelle. He was his best around her.”

Corbin leaned against the counter. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I know I don’t.”

“Ingrid,” Corbin hesitated but cleared his throat and continued, “See that woman on the couch? Well, she’s like a sister to me and I need to get us out of here. Do you think you can help us?”

Ingrid shook her head back and forth in a stiff motion and continued stirring the pot. The aroma of chicken soup floated out with the steam rising, coaxing a gurgle from Corbin’s stomach. Yet, he pushed the hunger aside and forced Ingrid to face him as he took her chin in his palm.

“Please? Help us.”

“I’ve helped you before.” She shook her head again and shrugged away from him. “I can’t risk it again.”