“How about squirrel and potato stew?” he suggested.
Emiko grimaced, then gave a reluctant nod.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just the cook — you’re the great huntress of Frontier View.” Nathan chuckled.
“I hate it when you call me that!” Emiko snarled.
“Then shoot some bigger game,” Nathan said. Admittedly, eating small game at every meal was growing tiresome.
“Maybe I would, if you’d give me a rifle more powerful than a.22,” Emiko suggested.
Nathan shrugged. “Dad would tell you not to make excuses,” he said, smirking as he wandered toward the kitchen.
Chapter 4
“This is the General.”
“Private Brushnell reporting, sir.”
“The trail still warm?”
“More than warm — the situation is heating up, sir.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well, out with it son.”
“Er, right — Osborne collapsed in the road this morning. As I approached, a young girl wandered out from the woods and discovered him. After the girl left, a group came to the location and carried Osborne to a nearby village.”
“And why didn’t you report this to me immediately?”
“I felt it could wait, sir.”
“Fair enough. Level-headedness in the field — a good trait to have. What’s the name of the village?”
“Frontier View, sir.”
“We have an outpost just north of there, on Sawbill Lake.”
“Correct, sir.”
The general paused before continuing.
“Private, I need your opinion. Tell me, does Osborne appear to have a destination?”
“No, sir. As near as I can tell he’s wandering aimlessly, in no hurry to arrive anywhere.”
“Alright. In that case, go join the men at Sawbill Lake for the time being.”
“What about Osborne?”
“He’ll be held up for a bit, I suspect. Just keep tabs on him from afar. I’ll give you further instructions tomorrow.”
“Understood, sir.”
“The General, over and out.”
The private gazed at the floor of his pup tent, troubled. This mission was bringing him a bit too close to home. Well, former home. A year ago he’d left Frontier View, vowing never to return. He had no intention of breaking that promise now.
He crawled into this sleeping bag and closed his eyes, content to put off the problem until it came to a head.
Chapter 5
The morning dew still glistened on the leaves as Emiko scampered through the forest. Stray droplets of water collected on her long black hair, giving it a moist sheen. She’d set out early, while Nathan was still catching up on his sleep, in order to avoid her brother’s dire warnings about the dangers of the forest. What did he know anyway? She spent far more time dashing through the brush and trees than he ever had. Through her childhood and during her father’s illness, the woods had remained her only steadfast companion. With the Ruger 10/22 strapped to her back, she had nothing to fear.
Every morning she made rounds, checking her traps to see if they had snared any critters overnight. She leapt over a small log, then fell to her knees to check a box trap, tucked discreetly underneath a raspberry bush.
She swept away the lush green leaves of the bush and looked in the trap. There was nothing inside, not even the bait she’d carefully placed yesterday. She frowned, picking it up to take a closer look.
Her father had bought this trap in Duluth. It was a steel cage with a spring-loaded door that slammed shut when a creature put weight on the center plate that held the bait. Emiko reached her hand inside and wiggled the plate. With a little effort, the door swung shut on her arm. She pried it open and took a closer look. The spring mechanism needed a fresh rub of grease; unfortunately, she didn’t have any right now. She put a few breadcrumbs on the plate, seeing as there was still a chance the trap would snap shut on a rodent, then made a mental note to get a little oil from the Frontier View Co-op later.
Sometimes she wondered if Nathan appreciated all the work she did. After all, he only saw the spoils; he didn’t see the effort that went into bringing home meat. Checking the traps, sniping small game, making sure her rifle was always in tip-top shape — those were all her responsibilities. Yet if she lapsed in even one of those things, she and Nathan would have to resort to begging neighbors for food.
Oh sure, Nathan toiled too — mostly in the fields around Frontier View, tending to tubers, collard greens, cabbage … pretty much whatever would grow. And he took care of gathering firewood, as well as most of the household chores. His role was as important as hers, if not more so. She accepted that. What irked her was that Nathan often said they were “partners” … but did he treat her like a partner? Emiko surely didn’t think so. He still treated her like a kid. Their dad could get away with that, but Nathan? No way.
Stepping lightly, she approached a fallen white pine. It was a massive length of timber with gnarled roots at the base. It had been down for nearly three years now. Before it fell, it would have lorded above the other trees. Now, however, it served as one of her favorite hunting blinds. The elements had gradually eaten away its branches, allowing her to easily rest against it. The location was perfect as well. A bubbling brook weaved through the trees, about a hundred feet north of the log. She could hide behind its wide trunk and watch as game approached to drink at the narrow stream. Occasionally she would sit there all day, observing the wildlife. As a steward of the forest, she prided herself on taking only what she needed.
Emiko yawned. How long had it been since she’d had a decent night’s sleep? A little nap couldn’t hurt. She took the gun off her back and set it on the decomposing bark of the massive log. Then she leaned against the log and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to take her and thankful that Nathan couldn’t pester her here.
***
“Disappearing chickens?” Nathan asked, surprised.
“That’s right,” Pierre answered. “I go out in the morning expecting a couple fresh eggs, only to find that half my chickens are gone!”
Just my luck, Nathan thought. He’d come to Pierre’s place hoping to get an egg or two in exchange for a scoop of lard.
“I haven’t the slightest idea where they’re disappearing to. Could be wolves, I suppose? Maybe I’ll organize a night watch.” Pierre shook his head and let out a sigh. “In any case, I still have a few eggs lying around and the stove’s already hot, so how about we share some breakfast?”
“That’d be great.” Nathan nodded approvingly. Pierre, a former history professor, was always willing to lend a hand. He was the oldest man in town, with white hair and jowls that resembled a German Boxer’s. He stood about as tall as Nathan and sported a slight paunch, yet he was quite spry for his age. Nathan imagined if Frontier View needed a mayor, Pierre would be on the short list.
Pierre took a moment to wipe the thick lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses on his shirt, then began to work on breakfast.
“Let’s see … we have lard and eggs,” he said, thinking out loud. “I believe I have an onion or two around here as well …” he trailed off, as he sifted through a cabinet near his stove.
Pierre’s house was even smaller than Nathan’s — a single-room cabin. A narrow bed sat to the left of the entrance. On the other side of the door there was a rocking chair, resting near towering stacks of unshelved books, precariously balanced against the wall. The other side of the cabin consisted of cooking and dining space, complete with a wood stove, which also kept the cabin warm in the winter.
“Aha, an onion!” Pierre exclaimed. He brought it to the counter and began to dice it. “So, any updates on our bearded friend?”