Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 212

Chapter 212: Stranger’s view
Ford glared after the girl who had gone into the house.

He hated her.

She was obviously naive, and very pretty, and talked about being raised in kindness. She probably ate every meal without fail. He doubted she’d ever had a worry in her life. With her large, unusually blue eyes, she probably got everything she wanted from anyone she batted them at.

His scowl deepened with the bitterness in his soul.

He lifted his broken leg gingerly and laid it on the table she’d pulled over. It was less swollen after a night’s sleep, but it hurt terribly.

Probably from hobbling along on it for weeks.

“Hello, there.” A man said from the door. Ford flinched. Would the man send him away? Eggs and fresh milk had stirred a hunger in him that was far deeper than the last crust of stale bread in his bag could satisfy.

“Good Morning,” Ford tried to greet politely. Maybe they wouldn’t throw him off the land until after breakfast if he were well behaved. There was nothing he could do about his sorry appearance.

“What’s your name, Stranger?” The man came and sat down in the rocking chair next to Ford, taking on an easy conversational tone that was probably meant to put him at ease.

“Ford.”

“Foundrel name,” The man observed quietly. “I’m Seth, Mia’s father.”

“Mia?” Ford glanced towards the house. That must be the girl’s name.

“Hm.” Seth frowned. “What brings you this way?”

“I’m headed to Droth,” Ford could say at least that much honestly. Lying was a trap that you had to remember to keep straight.

“On foot?” Seth glanced down.

“Yes, Sir.” Ford swallowed.

“I don’t know that you’ll make it,” The farmer said thoughtfully, and Ford bristled.

“I’ve been walking almost a month. I can make it.” Ford bristled.

“Got any food left? Water? With all due respect, you look half-dead. Are you running to something or running away from something?” Seth leaned forward.

“Why do you need to know?” Ford scowled.

“Because we help people around these parts, but I want to gauge your character before I offer you a place to sleep in my home with my family while you heal up and get some meat on your bones.”

“What?” Ford blinked. A pity meal delivered by a naive girl to the porch was one thing. This was quite another.

“Of course, I’ll discuss it with them before I make it official, but some of that depends on you. So I’ll ask you again, running to something or from something?”

There was silence for a moment while Ford contemplated his answer. If he too obviously tried to play on this man’s sympathy, he doubted that would go well. Was the truth a good enough reason… or at least, part of the truth?

“I grew up working the mines,” He clenched his jaw. “Month or so ago, it collapsed. Trapped me, broke my leg. When I finally got out, I didn’t want to go back down ever again. I figured things might be better for me here than in Foundrel, so I set out on my own with all the food and supplies I could afford.”

Seth glanced down at the sorry excuse for a bag. A pickaxe was visible through the threadbare fabric.

“You think mining equipment is going to be of use to you here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know what to expect when I got here,” Ford looked down. “Been mining since I was eight years old.”

Seth was quiet for a while, and Ford raised his eyes and looked at him evenly. Everything he’d said was the truth. He’d omitted the part about searching for a treasure in a cave, but he didn’t especially want to talk about that. He’d probably have to share what he found, if that were the case.

Also, didn’t Martin say telling secrets could get you killed here?

“Stay put,” Seth said, “I’ll be right back.”

The man stood and left, back into the house. Ford waited, wondering what the farmer thought of him. He took several deep breaths and looked out over the land for a while. A few minutes passed, and an older man came wandering around the porch.

“Oh!” He looked Ford up and down. “Hm.”

“Good Morning, Sir.” Ford maintained his best manners, such as they were.

“You joining us for breakfast?” The old man asked, tilting his head. “I smell it almost ready.”

“Yes, at least for breakfast,” Seth confirmed, coming back out of the house, “I’m glad you’re here, Dad. I need your help getting him washed up before we take him into the house.”

“Washed up?” Ford asked in surprise. There was a bundle in Seth’s arms that appeared to be clothing and a towel, and he was bewildered.

“You told me you’ve been walking almost a month,” Seth frowned. “From the smell of you, you haven’t bathed that whole time. I’m not bringing you in the house like that, so Dad and I are going to bring you around back to the watering trough and help you wash up and shave. I brought you some of my son’s old clothing, and Sarah can wash yours.”

“Um–” Ford’s eyes widened. This was not at all what he’d wanted or expected.

“I’d let you say no if it was just hygiene,” Seth warned, “but I see that blood under your arm. If you don’t wash that, it’ll get badly infected. So I’m going to insist.”

The man had a point, as much as Ford didn’t want to admit it. He shrugged. He had very little to steal, apart from the map hidden in the bag, so he let the two men help him to his feet and take him around to wash up. Seth had even brought a razor to clean up the haphazard whiskers on his face. By the time it was all done, he was cleaner than he’d probably been in his entire life.

There was not that much point in getting too clean when you worked every day in the dust and grime of a mine. Apparently farming was at least a little different.

“Come on, now. I smell eggs, and bacon too.” Seth’s father said insistently. “Let’s go eat.”