Warrior's Last Gift(11)
“And work for it you will, my young friend,” Eric promised, glaring at Jeanne, leaving her no doubt she’d be hearing about this later.
• • •
“It’s a mistake we make, taking that one in.” Eric glared at her as he took the pail of water from her hand and turned back to their campsite. “I feel it in my bones.”
“Yer brainsick,” Jeanne replied. “And heartless, too, if you think to turn away a slip of a lad who needs our help. Shame on you for letting yer unfounded suspicions rule you.”
With a sharp nod of her head, she pushed in front of him and hurried back toward the fire, where their young guest was finishing his meal.
“This is so good.” Dobbie looked up from his porridge as they neared and he cast a hopeful eye toward the pot.
Considering how much of the setup work he’d done when they reached this site, Jeanne felt he’d more than earned his meal.
“There’s more. Help yerself, lad.” She smiled to encourage him, but clearly, he didn’t need her encouragement. The boy acted as if he were half starved.
“What are you doing out here traveling all by yerself?” Eric sat apart from them, a frown fixed between his brows. “With no pack and no provisions of yer own?”
“I’m on my way to Skye,” the boy answered around a mouthful of bread. “To my mam’s folk, the MacCabes. With both my mam and da gone, it seemed the best thing to do. I had food in the beginning, but no enough to last the whole of my trip.”
Jeanne’s heart went out to the boy. “Then it’s good fortune indeed that our paths crossed.”
“Aye.” Dobbie nodded his head vigorously up and down, his eyes wide. “And thankful I am, too. I’ve heard tell of thieves who travel these trails. Men who will take yer animals and yer provisions.”
“And yer life, if yer no so careful,” Eric added.
“Aye.” Dobbie nodded in agreement. “A man must be careful about who he chooses to trust when he’s out on the road.”
To Jeanne’s way of thinking, a boy needed to be even more careful. “Yer welcome to accompany us for as long as our paths are the same,” Jeanne offered.
“And how would you envision that will work?” Eric’s glare turned in her direction again. “We’re mounted and he’s afoot. He canna run the whole day and we canna afford to slow down to his pace.”
She hadn’t really thought about it before offering; she only knew that Dobbie needed their help. “The lad can ride upon my horse with me. The extra weight canna make that much of a difference in our progress.”
Eric shook his head in clear disgust as he downed the last of his drink. “Best we get some rest then. We’ll need an early start if we’re to be moving slower on the morrow.”
He spread his bedroll and lay down, pulling his woolen up over his head, clearly done with them.
Obstinate, heartless man!
Dobbie finished his food and then assisted Jeanne in packing their belongings in preparation to turn in for the night. He was so eager to be helpful, she hadn’t the heart to correct the way he’d stuffed things into their bags. She could easily sort it all out in the morning when she fixed their next meal.
When they were done, Dobbie lay down next to the embers of their fire with nothing for bedding but the plaid he wore.
“Here,” she said, spreading her fur over him. “I’ve more woolens than I need to keep me warm. You take this.”