Chapter 2 - The Children Beneath the Table
Maeve returned carrying enough wood to rebuild the fire.
Toby immediately retreated beneath the table.
Tess followed.
Maeve pretended not to notice.
She knelt at the hearth.
Ash covered the stones.
She cleaned it carefully, arranged kindling, breathed life into the remaining coals, and waited until orange flame curled around the wood.
The cabin changed almost immediately.
Light moved across the walls.
Maeve found cornmeal, bacon, salt, and half an onion.
Much of the bacon had spoiled.
She cut away the mold and kept what remained.
She boiled water.
All the while, she could feel two pairs of eyes watching from beneath the table.
She prepared cornmeal mush.
When it was ready, she found three chipped bowls.
She filled two.
Then she placed them on the table.
“Food's ready.”
Nobody moved.
Maeve sat beside the fire with her own empty bowl.
She waited.
Minutes passed.
Toby emerged first.
He sniffed the food.
Tess followed.
They climbed onto chairs and began eating with their fingers.
Fast.
Desperately fast.
Maeve's stomach twisted.
These children were not merely hungry.
They knew hunger.
Toby suddenly grabbed a handful of mush and shoved it into his pocket.
Maeve looked away deliberately.
He froze anyway.
“I'm not taking it,” she said.
Toby stared at her.
Maeve nodded toward his bowl.
“Eat.”
He did.
Tess finished first.
Her blue eyes moved toward the pot.
“More?”
It was the first word Maeve had heard from her.
“Tomorrow,” Maeve said gently. “Too much tonight will make your belly hurt.”
Tess seemed disappointed but nodded.
Later, Gideon returned.
He stopped inside the doorway.
His gaze traveled around the room.
The fire.
The swept floor.
The children beside the table.
Maeve washing dishes.
He noticed the cloth wrapped around her wrist.
“What happened?”
Maeve glanced toward Toby.
The boy became rigid.
“Caught it on something.”
Gideon's eyes remained on her.
Maeve knew he didn't believe her.
But he did not challenge the answer.
That night, Maeve discovered there was only one proper bed.
Gideon pointed toward it.
“You take that.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Chair.”
“And the children?”
He indicated the pile of blankets.
Maeve stared at him.
“They sleep on the floor?”
His expression darkened with embarrassment.
“They won't use the bed.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Maeve looked toward Toby and Tess.
She suspected they did.
She made a pallet for herself instead.
“You take the bed,” Gideon said.
“No.”
“Maeve—”
“The children need to learn it isn't dangerous.”
His eyes met hers.
Something passed between them.
He nodded.
During the night, Maeve woke to whispering.
Tess was crying.
Toby was telling her to be quiet.
Maeve remained still.
Then she heard Tess whisper, “She'll leave.”
Toby answered, “Everybody leaves.”
Maeve closed her eyes.
The following morning, she began cleaning.
Not because Gideon ordered her.
Because she could not bear watching children live in filth.
She scrubbed windows.
Boiled bedding.
Washed clothes.
Found a broken broom and repaired it with cord.
Toby followed her from a distance.
Tess followed Toby.
When Maeve washed the little girl's dress, Tess stood beside the tub looking alarmed.
“I'll give it back.”
Tess touched the wet sleeve.
“Promise?”
Maeve looked at her.
“Promise.”
That word mattered.
Tess nodded solemnly.
Three days became seven.
Seven became fourteen.
The cabin slowly changed.
So did the children.
Tess began sitting near Maeve while she worked.
Toby stopped running whenever Maeve entered the room.
He still watched everything she did.
One afternoon, Maeve found three biscuits wrapped inside his blanket.
She left them there.
The next morning, Toby placed one biscuit beside her cup.
He said nothing.
Neither did Maeve.
She ate it.
That was their first exchange of trust.
Gideon remained more difficult.
He left before dawn.
Returned after dark.
He brought meat, firewood, pelts, and silence.
Yet Maeve noticed things.
A new broom appeared after hers broke again.
A sack of dried apples appeared beside the flour.
One morning she found a small tin of salve beside her bed.
For her wrist.
Gideon never mentioned it.
Neither did she.
Then, three weeks after Maeve arrived, a storm rolled over Black Pine Ridge.
Gideon stood near the door fastening his coat.
“Trapline.”
Maeve looked through the window.
Snow already swept sideways.
“You're going now?”
“Need to.”
“Why?”
“Animals don't care about weather.”
Neither did mountains.
Maeve disliked the feeling in her stomach.
“When will you return?”
“Tomorrow.”
Toby was listening.
Maeve noticed his face.
Fear.
Gideon noticed too.
He crouched awkwardly.
“Be back tomorrow.”
Toby looked away.
Gideon straightened.
Then he left.
By evening, the storm had become violent.
Maeve secured the shutters.
She fed the fire.
Tess fell asleep beside her.
Toby did not.
He sat near the hearth shivering.
Maeve added another blanket.
“You're cold?”
He shook his head.
An hour later, he vomited.
Maeve touched his forehead.
Her heart stopped.
He was burning.
“Toby?”
His eyes barely opened.
Tess woke.
“What happened?”
“He's sick.”
Tess immediately began crying.
Maeve lifted Toby.
He weighed almost nothing.
She placed him beneath blankets.
There was no doctor.
No neighbor.
No Gideon.
Only snow.
Mountains.
A blackened kettle.
Wild mint hanging near the pantry.
Cold water.
And Maeve.
She worked through the night.
Cold cloth.
Water.
Mint tea.
Small sips.
She remembered everything her mother had taught her.
Near midnight, Toby began shaking.
Tess climbed into Maeve's lap.
“Is he dying?”
“No.”
Maeve prayed she was telling the truth.
“You promise?”
That word again.
Promise.
Maeve looked at Toby.
Then at Tess.
“I promise I'm going to do everything I can.”
Tess buried her face against Maeve.
Hours passed.
Maeve's eyes burned.
The fire sank.
She rebuilt it.
Toby moaned.
She changed the cloth.
Then, shortly before dawn, his small hand moved.
Maeve leaned forward.
Toby reached through the blankets.
His fingers found Maeve's wrist.
The same wrist he had bitten.
He held it.
His eyes opened.
“Toby?”
His cracked lips moved.
Maeve bent closer.
At first, she thought he said her name.
Then she understood.
“Mama.”
Maeve stopped breathing.
Tess lifted her head.
Toby's eyes closed again.
His hand remained around Maeve's wrist.
And outside, somewhere beyond the storm, a gunshot echoed through the mountains.
May you like
Gideon had not returned.
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