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Of course, I returned the favor by hinting to the women in our hen clutches that he was in the market for a good wife, but was too shy to come right out and say so.
Very soon, Bryant became the unwilling recipient of corn cakes, baskets, buckskin shirts, beadwork, batting eyes, and the ruthless machinations of ambitious mothers seeking a husband for their unmarried daughters.
Fair’s fair after all.
Although there was a silent agreement between us not to bring up the sore subject of my being stuck in the past, periodically Bryant would question me about future events. I was always careful what I shared though. No telling if what I said might affect said future in a negative way.
“Like a bird?” he asked in astonishment one night as we sat in front of the crackling fireplace. Bryant halted sharpening his hunting knife on the whetstone he held. “And you yourself have done this?”
I was shelling peas into a wooden bowl, biting down a smile. “That’s how I came here all the way from Virginia, I fact. In less than five hours.”
“Five hours!”
“I could have driven by automobile—I told you about automobiles—but that would have taken me a few days.”
“Automobiles. The horseless carriages, you mean.”
“Exactly. Everyone has them in my time. There’s so many on the roads, in fact, that it causes what we commonly refer to as ‘traffic jams’ and ‘rush hour.’”
Bryant’s mumbled something in Gaelic and shook his head, continuing his blade sharpening.
I was about to explain that riding in an airplane or driving a car wasn’t such a grand feat, and that men could even travel in space now. I held off on that bit of information, certain he wasn’t ready for that just yet.
Sighing, I looked around the rustic cabin saying, “Actually, I’d settle for a decent hot bath, toothpaste and a steak dinner with all the fixings.”
“Well, I can’t provide you with the beefsteak or paste,” he said, sheathing his knife. “But I can have Alice see about a hot bath for you when we get to town.”
I halted my shelling, shooting a wide look up to him. “We’re going to Silver Falls?”
“Tomorrow, if it’s to your liking.”
“Heck, yeah! Anything to see civilization again...Wait, are you sure it’s safe? What about the Arcan Hunters?”
“It’s been a week since Tall Tree spotted the last one,” he said. “I suspect they’ve left for greener pastures now. They’re mercenaries for the most part, so they typically don’t stay in one place too long if the money or hunting isn’t good.”
And they had been hired by the good sheriff himself who probably refused to pay his hired hands after they came up empty. A good bit of luck.
“You never did say why those Arcan Hunters targeted you that first day we met,” I mentioned.
I had touched on the curious subject before, but Bryant always avoided or distracted me to something else, never really answering the question.
“Did you have a list of things you want from Alice’s store?” he asked. “I know we could use more beans and rice. What about more coffee? You don’t seem to like mine very much.”
“Because you brew it until it’s as thick as an oil spill, and don’t change the subject,” I said, not letting him dissuade me this time. “Why were those men hunting you with poison bullets? And what does it have to do with the town sheriff? Why would he hire those thugs to murder you?”
He stood and looked to check the candle on the mantle, but I knew he was really considering what to share with me. I could wait.
“Ray Wilkens has an idea of who should and shouldn’t live in and around his town,” Bryant said, turning to me. “And I don’t fit into his perfect kingdom. We’ve had our disagreements in the past, and I’ve put him to public shame once, which he didn’t take kindly to.”
“So he hired mercenaries to outright kill you? A little extreme, isn’t it?”
“Not for Wilkens. He’s a mean, prideful man, and a very dangerous one. So stay clear of him while we’re in town, Callista. Nothing good can ever come in crossing Wilkens’ path.”
I recalled his warning the next morning as I braided my hair for travel.
“...flour, oats, dried beans, candles,” Bryant listed as he checked our supplies. “Honey, if Alice has it, although Sun Rising mentioned that she planned to save some from her hives for a few rabbits or a basket of trout. Sugar, coffee, cloth...”
“Cloth for what?” I asked.
