Meleah's Western Part 12

Good Morning Readers,
Once again it is a cloudy Friday morning. At least we had sun the last two days! And it is just supposed to rain and not snow this time. We'll see what happens. I really have been floundering about on the sea of writing this past week or so. I have written two short calendar stories and have two Meleah's Westerns written. I also got my assignment done for a writing club, but I still feel like I haven't written anything! I think part of it is that I don't have any long book to work on. After spending 5 years working on a project, I feel rather lost without it. So, last night I started the sequel to "Home Fires of the Great War." :) I had to write something. I'm not sure of the style I'll write it in or the main conflict yet, but I'll keep working. At least it gives me something long to write. Some of you are probably wishing I'd just write Meleah's Western. Well, I would but this story doesn't like to be written too much at once. It is like some good soups, it has to simmer a while.:) Besides, I write that on Sunday afternoons. What would I write the rest of the week?

But enough rambling. Those of you who are fans of or who just follow Meleah's Western, will be delighted to learn that the winner of the quiz has requested that story for this week and next. I hope you enjoy this next part of it.

Part 12

For nearly five long hours the trio had been riding. Carson and Ty were carful to leave behind a trail that was so confused it would take a skilled tracker and broad daylight to follow it. Ty hoped fresh snow would cover them though before anyone tried it. Darkness had closed in around them some hours before, yet they continued to push on with a steady pace.

Sally was cold, stiff and weary. Her eyes were heavy. She didn’t know how Ty and Carson could tell where they were. For all she knew they had been merely riding in a circle. The wind began to blow. Carson glanced up at the sky and noticed the clouds moving in.
“Looks like we’re goin’ ta be gettin’ some snow, Ty,” he called back softly.
“Good,” was all the reply Ty gave.
In silence once again, the three companions rode. Sally shivered as the first snow flakes began falling, and the cold, icy wind stung her cheeks. She bent her head and with stiff fingers pulled her wrap closer about her.
“You all right, Sally?” the voice of her brother startled her, for she had not noticed him ride up beside her.
She nodded. She wouldn’t let him know just how cold, yes, and frightened, she really was. She knew that sometime they would stop and make camp. They would have to for the horses couldn’t go on much farther. But how could they camp in this weather? The wind was driving the snow against them with increasing fury, and no stars were now visible.

Carson’s shout startled both Ty and Sally. “I see a light. We’re most there.”
Urging their horses on, the brother and sister caught up with Carson, and Ty demanded to know where they were.
“It’s the cabin a some folks I know. They’re right nice people an’ they ain’t goin’ ta mind some visitors.”
“Make sure it’s safe first, Carson.”
Carson nodded and rode on, with Ty and Sally following at a slower pace.

Only a short time later, all three had reined in before a small cabin. The door was open in welcome, and light shone out through the blowing snow. Ty helped Sally dismount, for she was so stiff and cold she could scarcely move.
“Take the horses to the stable over yonder,” the deep voice of a man called over the wind to Carson and Ty. “Then come in and thaw yerselves. Ma ken take care a the lady.” With that he drew Sally inside and shut the door.

A stout motherly woman with white hair and soft grey eyes bustled about Sally, taking off her wrap and bonnet, pushing her to a chair before a roaring fire, and removing her shoes. “There now, deary, you jest sit there an’ warm up a bit. The coffee’ll be ready in two shakes. How far have ya come? Hard ridin’ in a storm like this, ain’t it?” The woman talked on. She could tell Sally was exhausted and didn’t feel like talking. In a matter of moments she placed a cup of steaming hot coffee in Sally’s icy hands. “Now jest drink this. It’ll put new life in ya. There ain’t nothin’ like a good hot cup of coffee ta warm ya right up.”
With hands that trembled from cold and exhaustion, Sally lifted the cup and gulped down a mouthful of the hot liquid. It felt wonderful, and she closed her tired eyes. With a sigh of satisfaction, she began to relax as the fire, the coffee and a blanket she felt being tucked around her shoulders began to banish the numbness.

After several minutes, the door was opened, and in stamped Carson and Ty. They were both covered with snow.
“Now, Pa,” the motherly woman directed. “Help them get out of those snowy coats while I pour some more coffee for them. They must be ‘bout frozen. Get those boots off so yer feet can thaw. Now,” she ordered, “get over here ta the fire, both of ya. Well, at least you can walk. The poor girl was scarce able ta move! Here’s yer coffee. An’ there’s more of it when ya want it. Pa, why don’t ya put another log or two on the fire.”
As the woman had talked, Ty and Carson had sunk into chairs before the fire and taken the steaming cups offered them. Ty, sitting beside his sister, glanced at her pale face anxiously while inwardly he chided himself for giving in to her pleadings to go along with him. “It’ll be too difficult for her. I should have left her with the Harnnards,” he thought.
As though she could read his thoughts, Sally gave him a tired smile and said softly, “I’ll be jest fine once I get warm, Ty. An’ I wouldn’t have stayed behind on any account.”
Ty reached out his hand and gave hers a gentle squeeze.

A silence descended on the small group. Even the woman grew quiet once the others were situated to her liking with hot drinks and a blazing fire. Her husband had seated himself on a bench at the table and was smoking his pipe. The woman sat down across from him with her knitting.

At last Carson half turned in his chair.
“I reckon I ought ta introduce ya to each other, though I reckon I never was good at that type a thing. These here are my friends, Ty an’ his sister, Sally. Ty, Sally, that is Mr. an’ Mrs. Shaw.”
“Goodness sakes, Bob!” interjected Mrs. Shaw. “Ain’t nobody calls us that ‘round here. The folks that know us at all call us Uncle Matt an’ Aunt Leah an’ we don’t want no other names.”
The older man removed his pipe and drawled, “That’s fer sure, so don’t ya go an’ be forgettin’ it, Bob Carson.”
Carson grinned and reached out to pour himself some more coffee. “Aunt Leah,” he remarked, “ya sure make the best coffee anywheres. An’ that’s the truth.”

Come back next week for part 13