Shelter

The snow was coming from all directions and Frederick needed to find shelter quickly. The cart didn’t have anything to shield them, and Rebecca and James were nearly frozen through. He scanned helplessly around, looking as best he could, when he finally spotted what he hoped was a cottage set off in the woods a bit.

“I think I see something,” he said over the sound of the wind, pointing to the structure. Rebecca simply nodded, wrapping James tightly in her shawl and a quilt in an attempt to keep him warm. Frederick jumped down from the seat and started to carefully lead the tired horse through the already knee deep snow in the direction of what he hoped was a building.

To his dismay, it wasn’t a cottage, just a barn, halfway fallen down, but it was at least something of a shelter. The back half had fallen in somewhat, but still afforded a windbreak and was high enough that Frederick and the horse could stand comfortably. There appeared to be adequate ventilation for a fire, if the supplies he carried weren’t too wet, though he was skeptical of that. It was freezing cold in the barn, but at least there wasn’t much snow inside. There were a few holes in the roof for snow flurries to come through, but the doors were long since gone, leaving the front open to the elements and gusts of wind bearing more snow. Further back, though, was drier.

It was decidedly less than ideal.

He turned to look at Rebecca apologetically, but she was holding out the enormous bundle of child to him. He took James then watched as she struggled to get down from the cart.

“If this is all we have, then we shall make do,” she said firmly, her lips quivering with cold. “Will you start the fire please while I try to shake some of the snow off before it melts? If everything gets wet, we will have more trouble than we do now.”

“Of course.”

He set James down on the dirt floor and for once the little boy simply curled up and didn’t fuss, but watched his parents move around, too cold even to complain.

It took a little while, but Frederick finally got a fire started with the damp wood. The three of them coughed a bit, but the wind from the storm swept away the smoke. Frederick was afraid it would blow out the fire, so he maneuvered the cart to block the worst of the wind as best he could before he unhitched the horse and moved him into one of the few remaining stalls for the night. The horse, for his part, looked startled to be both in a stall and halfway outside. Frederick took over pulling out the food and warming it a bit over the fire while Rebecca continued to brush snow off of the blankets.

“I am sorry for all of this,” he finally said, his voice nearly lost under the blowing wind.

“It is not your fault,” Rebecca responded tiredly, shaking out the last of the blankets and draping it over the cart on the side closest to the fire to warm some. She walked over to James and lifted him up, awkwardly unwrapping him from the quilt and holding the blanket out to Frederick. He took it and shook it out, then hung it on the cart as well.

“It is, in a way,” he contradicted. “I insisted we go north, when you wanted to go to France.”

“You think this storm is only along this road?” she asked with amusement as she settled on the ground near the fire, cradling James in her lap. She picked up a piece of chicken that Frederick had warmed and took a bite then offered the remaining piece in her hand to James, who took it in his dirty hand and ate hungrily. “That the storm clouds have decided to only follow us and no one else?”

Frederick sighed tiredly and dropped to a seat on the ground beside her. “Why do you insist on trying to make me feel better?” He took the piece of chicken she handed him and took a bite.

“Because there is not any good to come in you feeling terrible and as though you are the cause for the weather when we are all cold and miserable.”

He chewed in silence. “You do not have to always make me feel better. That is not your role. I did not marry you to keep my spirits light.”

“No,” she said, tensely, feeding a bite of stale bread to James. “You married me because my sister was unfaithful, and I was the next best option, and you needed a wife who would be faithful and would bear you an heir.”

His jaw tensed. “It was your idea.”

“And you agreed to it.”

“It was not as though I had many choices.”

Her eyes flared. “You had plenty of choices. You just chose me. I was the easiest choice. Are you now regretting it?”

“I regret it only in that it put you in this situation. Why are you arguing with me?”

“I am not arguing. You are being petulant, like a child.” She glared at him.

“I am not being petulant; you are being difficult.”

“I am difficult?” she scoffed. “I have been nothing but accommodating since the day we met. Since before that, even. You have no idea what difficult is, if you think that I am difficult.”

“Have you met my mother?”

She leveled him with a gaze, and he sat back. “Of course, I have met your mother.”

“The very fact that you say you are not arguing, is arguing,” he said after a moment.

She huffed out a laugh. “And do I not get to argue with my husband once in a while? Or am I supposed to be accommodating always, and not even argue sometimes when my husband is wrong?”

“How am I wrong?” he demanded.

She stared at him for a moment. “I do not even know what we are arguing about,” she admitted. “Remind me, and I will tell you.”

He opened his mouth to rebut, but then stopped. “I admit, I cannot remember myself.”

She sighed and let her head drop back, her face tilted to the roof. She closed her eyes for a long moment. “We are both exhausted and full of anxiety about so much. We should not be so…” she grasped for the word, then shook her head and looked down at the little boy in her lap, who had quit eating and curled up in her lap and drifted off to sleep. He still held a crust of bread in one fist. “We need to be calmer and on the same side. For him.” She looked at Frederick imploringly.

“You are right.” He finished his chicken and tossed the bone into the darkness of the barn, startling the horse and causing it to whicker softly. He blew out a breath and stood. Rebecca watched him as he started to pat down the blankets draped on the cart.

“What are you doing?”

“I am seeing if they’ve dried at all. We need to rest.”

She watched as he arranged the blankets in a pallet on the floor, close to the fire to keep them warm but far enough away that they wouldn’t be in danger of getting singed in the night. He patted it when he was done and looked at her expectantly.

“You should sleep closer to the fire. It will be warmer. I will sleep with my back to the rest of the barn so that I can easily get up to add fuel, and we can keep James between us.”

She nodded. “That seems wise.”

Frederick took James from her so she could remove her shoes. She wiggled her toes in her thick woolen stockings, sighing with relief. She set her shoes to the side and stretched out on the pallet, groaning slightly as her body unkinked. She reached her arms above her head and arched her back and pointed her toes, stretching her whole body luxuriously for a moment, sighing with contentment again, then she reached for the little boy. Frederick smiled faintly as he handed him down, then spread the last blanket over the two.

“What?”

“You seem happier stretched out on the blankets than you did sitting just a few minutes ago.”

“A few minutes ago, my husband was calling me difficult and arguing with me over something neither one of us can remember. Now, I am stretched out on an, admittedly, not terribly comfortable bed, but stretched out, and easing some of the aches from travel. Never underestimate the power of a good stretch. If I could change my clothes and have a bath, I should be a whole new woman.” She yawned. Frederick settled on the edge of the pallet and pulled off his own shoes before crawling under the blanket beside her. “Try it,” she encouraged him.

He looked at her hesitantly. She nudged him. “Stretch. You’ll feel better.”

He slowly raised his arms above his head and stretched his body, pointing his toes under the blanket, his feet poking out from under the edge and into the cold air of the barn. He twisted slightly and felt a pop in his back that felt good, a release of tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. He groaned with pleasure. Rebecca was grinning at him when he rolled back onto his side to face her.

“I was right, was I not?”

He smiled and reached over, smoothing back a strand of hair that had come out of her bun. “One of these days, dearest, I will learn not to doubt you.”

She nodded. “One of these days.”

Rebecca pulled her knees up around James and Frederick drew his feet back under the blanket, curling his large body around James and Rebecca. His knees were around her feet, his arm was draped across her side, and her hand was on his hip. They’d slept like this many times in the past month, but it still felt novel to him. They were the first married couple in his family to ever share a bed like this. Even though it wasn’t technically a bed.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled the edge of the blanket and they both automatically hunched towards each other, their foreheads touching, their arms around each other’s bodies pulling them closer together, mindful of the sleeping child between them.

“I am sorry about earlier,” he said softly.

She squeezed his hip. “I am too.”

“Once we are settled, things will be easier,” he promised. “Once we are not on the road, and safe somewhere.”

She smiled. “I know.” She reached up and caressed his face, smoothing back a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “Hopefully, the storm will be over by morning, and we will be able to be on our way. We are only a few days away from our destination, and then we can settle in. It will not be much longer that we have to endure this.” She smiled teasingly. “Or each other’s constant company.”

Frederick chuckled softly. “A small reprieve would do us both some good, I am sure.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, dearest. I will stay awake to add fuel to the fire and keep watch.”

Rebecca looked like she wanted to argue with him, but at the same time, she was exhausted. She hadn’t slept well in weeks, so she simply nodded, and, using her arm as a pillow, closed her eyes. In a few minutes, her breathing had deepened, and she was asleep.

Frederick kept watch in the old barn most of the night, adding fuel periodically to keep his small family warm, and after a while, he, too, scooted a little closer, and went to sleep.