Finding Home

by Ali Spooner

  Finding Home

  Published by Ali Spooner at Smashwords

  Copyright 2011 Ali Spooner

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following is a complete work of fiction. All people, places and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental.

  PART ONE

  Nat rode through the pouring rain toward the cave that she had been using for shelter for the past few weeks. The rain drops slid down the brim of her hat only to bounce off the leather of her saddle. Hardy, her buckskin stallion exhaled sharply and shook his body violently to free his body of the soaking raindrops. Each day he and his master grew more intolerant of the dreary weather, yearning for a less miserable clime.

  Nat and Hardy reached the clearing that opened to a large cave, one she, Hardy and Quincy her pack mule had called home for several weeks and she was welcomed by the smoke of her smoldering campfire. Quincy, who was tethered at the rear of the cave, welcomed them home with a loud grunt. Hardy shook his body one last time in an attempt to rid his body of the cold rain before stepping under the protective lip of the caves entrance.

  Nat dismounted and hung her full length range coat on an oak limb that had conveniently grown into the mouth of the cave. She hung the pelts she had recovered that day beside her coat and began removing the saddle and tack from Hardy. Fully grown now at four years old, Hardy had grown into quite a loyal companion who had served Nat well. Stretching the tack out on the rocks near the fire pit to dry, Nat picked up an old blanket and wiped the soaking wetness from Hardy’s body.

  Gyp, Nat’s faithful blue coated companion trotted up to her master and licked her face as she bent down to dry Hardy’s legs. “Hello Gyp,” she said to the dog that provided protection for Quincy and Nat’s belongings while she was out during the day. Nat buried her hands in the deep blue fur of the animal as Gyp continued to lick her face.

  Nat hung up the blanket to allow it to dry and then attached feed sacks to Hardy and Quincy. “Ready for some left over stew,” Nat asked Gyp? Gyp’s ears perked as she sat and watched with loving eyes as her master added dry wood to the fire. Nat settled the stew pot on the spit above the flames and sat back beside Gyp as they waited for their dinner to warm.

  Nat reached inside a saddle bag and pulled out a chunk of dried jerky, tearing off a piece for Gyp and tossing it to the patiently waiting dog. “Good catch girl,” Nat praised her canine companion and then she tore a piece of the dried meat off with her teeth. Nat chewed slowly allowing the saliva to mix with the meat to soften it enough for her to chew the spicy meat.

  Nat removed her hat and let her shoulder length black hair tumble down her neck. She laid her head back against her bed roll as she watched the flames dance to life in the fire pit. Shadows licked the walls of the cave as Nat slowly surveyed the culmination of her last month’s efforts. Mounds of pelts were stored near the rear of the cave to remain dry and to remain secluded from anyone who might wander into the cave with thoughts of looting her bounty. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a fellow trapper took advantage of another to profit from their hard work.

  After another day to obtain a final days trapping and to retrieve traps, Nat would break camp to head to Seattle to sell her pelts, restock her supplies and to choose her next destination. This site had been very profitable, but Nat grew weary of the endless rainy days and cool temperatures.

  Nat smiled to herself. Some time spent closer to the ocean would do her and her companions good she thought, as she watched the contents of her stew pot start to boil. Nat scooped up a portion each for her and Gyp who waited patiently for her meal to cool. Nat slowly stirred the thick stew allowing it to cool as her mind wandered.

  Nat, born eighteen years ago in British Columbia as Nathalie St. Croix was the sole child of Nathan St. Croix a Canadian trapper and his wife, Nanya a full blooded Mohican woman. The family traveled the Canadian/US border together trapping, hunting and trading until Nanya died six years earlier during an outbreak of influenza. Motherless at twelve years old, Nat clung more tightly to the father she adored as he struggled to teach her the ways of the world. Trapping, hunting and fishing came as easy as breathing to Nat, but teaching Nat to be a woman was an impossible task for Nathan. He had always treated Nat as a son, her slim, six foot tall frame with androgynous features allowed her to pass as a young man in most settings which proved a benefit to Nat during most of her young life.

  For five more years after her mother’s death Nat and her father trapped the Northern US and Lower Canada. Nathan taught her everything he knew about fur trading and Nat was an adept student, learning quickly the skills she would need to survive her rapidly changing world.

  War had broken out in the eastern half of the country so Nathan decided they would push further west away from the brewing turmoil that caused many families to head further west as well. Many times in their travels Nat and her father had come upon a solitary wagon of “Green Horns” who had fled west to escape only to find themselves lost, starving or besieged by illness. Other travelers had ravaged the supplies and possessions of the deceased leaving little evidence of those who had perished.

  Nat’s emotions grew hard in the vigorous environment she was raised, but she could not hold back the tears which flowed freely down her cheeks after she and her father discovered a small group of wagons that had been razed. There were several burnt skeletons, mostly of adults, but also several small children. Nat and her father buried the remains to prevent further devastation by predators.

  Nat sat on a rock next to Nathan as they rested after covering the bodies and listened to the whispering of the wind as a cool breeze picked up. A weak sound made it to Nat’s ears and she struggled to make out the sound. She stood and moved slowly back through the debris changing direction with each new sound emitted. Nat discovered that the sounds she heard were the whimpering of a small animal and she followed the source until it became stronger.

  Tracing the sound to a pile of discarded clothing, Nat crept closer to the sound and raised a partially burned shirt to find a tiny bundle of blue fur. In this harsh environment, the mother must have abandoned this pup as the runt of the litter, left to perish on its own while increasing the chance of survival for its stronger siblings.

  The pup’s eyes barely open peered up at Nat pleading for her help. Nat bent down, cradling the small creature in one of her large hands as her fingers stroked the soft fur. She walked back to her father to show him her discovery.

  Nathan looked at the small pup in his daughters hand and knew its chances for survival was very slim, but the glow in his daughter’s eyes told him she would do everything in her power to see the pup survived.

  “Looks like we have another mouth to feed, he said with a smile. Bundle her up and let’s see if we can teach her to eat, he added. ”

  Nathan set up camp away from the burnt out wagons and started a fire. Nat warmed up some of the stew she and her father had eaten the night before and dipped her fingers in the rich gravy. Holding the pup in one hand, she smeared the gravy across the pup’s lips and spoke softly to the tiny animal encouraging it to eat. Slowly the pup began to lick its lips, tasting human food for the first time in its short life and Nat felt that the pup would survive. Nathan, more of a pessimist than his daughter, worried that the pup would die, helped
his daughter by dipping a small rag in cool water and pressing it to the pup’s mouth. The puppy instinctively chewed on the rag, forcing out the water as her small knobbed tail wagged in Nat’s hand.

  Nathan finished setting up camp that night while he watched his daughter nurse the young pup. As he toiled, he offered a silent prayer for the pup to survive and become a much needed companion for his daughter.

  After their meal, Nathan watched as Nat and her small friend curled up next to the fire and drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning Nat awoke to a soft warm tongue lapping at her chin and shiny brown eyes gazing up to her. She warmed up more gravy and a small chunk of otter meat which she mashed into tiny fragments that she finger fed to the small pup.

  After breaking camp, they mounted their horses and headed north to a cabin tucked away in the dense woods. During the ride, the pup snuggled under Nat’s coat reveling in her warmth and protection.

  Near nightfall, they reached the cabin and cautiously entered the abode. Many a stray traveler or vagrant animal had been known to take up residence in trappers cabins, so the first entry was always deemed dangerous.

  Nat and Nathan were fortunate to find that the last human inhabitant had left dry wood on the hearth and Nat quickly had a fire burning to light and warm the cabin. Nathan found several small lanterns and filled them with oil they had obtained from the creatures they trapped and soon the cabin was ablaze with light.

  Comfortable that the cabin was secure and safe, Nathan returned outside to begin to unload the packs and tend to the animals while Nat set up shop inside the cabin. She stored the pelts in a small room off the kitchen and unpacked their food and cooking supplies.

  Nat portioned out flour and patted out biscuits to accompany the last of their trail stew. Tomorrow they would hunt and with good fortune they would have fresh meat for dinner. Nat hummed with excitement as she prepared their meal, the puppy bouncing along behind her every step.

  Nathan brought in fresh water and watched as Nat cleaned up the sleeping areas and prepared the rustic cots for slumber. Nat returned to the hearth and found the biscuits browning nicely. She dipped out a small bowl of gravy and another small chunk of the meat and prepared it for the puppy.

  Nathan dished up stew for he and his daughter and added biscuits to each of their plates as Nat placed the bowl down in front of the puppy. Nat then sat down with her father to begin her meal.

  “Have you given thought to a name he asked?”

  “I was thinking Gyp, short for Gypsy,” Nat replied.

  “Well we are a group of nomads, he said so Gyp would fit right in,” he concluded.

  “Do you really think she is going to make it Dad,” Nat asked?

  “From the way she is attacking that food bowl I would say yes. I think I may have finally found someone who appreciates my cooking,” he added with a grin.

  Gyp growled her appreciation of the meal and then drank fresh water from the bowl Nathan had placed by her food.

  “Instinct is kicking in,” he said as he watched the puppy lap at the water.

  Nat watched with pride as Gyp finished her meal and she broke off a portion of biscuit and dipped it into the gravy on her plate before dropping it in the pups bowl.

  “I want you to go hunting for some fresh meat in the morning Nat while I start setting the traps, her father requested. I don’t know about you but I am sick of otter stew he said with a grin. ”

  “I could devour a thick T-bone myself,” Nat replied.

  “When we head in to trade next month, I promise you will have the biggest steak you can eat,” Nathan said.

  “Something to look forward to, Nat said as she cleared the dishes and walked Gyp to the door. We will check on the animals and be right back,” she said as she opened the door and walked out.

  Nathan smiled to himself and thought how lucky he was to have such a strong young woman for a daughter. Sure he had always longed for a son when he was younger, but now he doubted that he could be as proud of anyone as he was with Nat. He waited for Nat and Gyp to return and then he doused the lights and they both retired for the evening to rest up for the big day ahead.

  Nat awoke first and put fresh wood on the fire before taking Gyp outside. She watched the puppy pounce on leaves that blew on the ground in front of her, Nat’s laughter breaking the silence of the deep woods. The seasons were beginning to change, the brilliant color of the leaves that were rapidly falling from the trees and the brisk chill in the air would soon give way to snowflakes and long winter nights. Nat would be glad to make it through the passes to Seattle ahead of the winter storms and take shelter somewhere less desolate. For the past few years she and her father had spent the winter in a small rented out cabin just south of Seattle where they had planned for the coming year and caught up with fellow trappers sharing trends in the trading market and news of the bloody war.

  Nat returned to the cabin and set the coffee kettle on the fire. She cleaned her rifle and loaded it while she waited for Nathan to stir. He walked into the kitchen just as she was pouring the strong steaming liquid into their mugs. “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning, did you have trouble not sleeping on the ground last night,” Nat teased?

  “When you get my age, it takes a while to adjust,” her dad tossed back as he picked up his mug.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Nat said as she continued packing her bag for the mornings hunt.

  They made small talk while they drank their coffee and then Nat stood and stretched one last time. “I better get moving if I am going to get any meat today she said. See you when you get back tonight Nat said and then she picked up Gyp. Sorry my friend but today you will have to stay inside, she told the small pup as she placed a warm blanket in the wood bin and placed the pup inside. ”

  She kissed her dad on the forehead and picked up her bag and rifle.

  “Good luck today Nat,” Nathan said as her watched her out the door.

  Nat laced her arms through the straps of her pack and shouldered her rifle. She walked through the woods with a deadly silence as she looked for signs of wildlife. She had walked for nearly half an hour when she heard a buzzing sound echoing through the cool morning air. Her keen ears led her to the trunk of an old tree that was now home to a swarm of honey bees.

  Approaching carefully, Nat caught a glimpse of a large comb overflowing with honey. Honey for biscuits would be a pleasant change for both she and her father so Nat propped her rifle next to the tree and lowered her pack. She took out a small strip of worn out cloth and wrapped it around a long stick. She would have to work quickly to harvest the honey without getting stung, but the sweetness was just too promising to pass up. Nat removed a jar from her pack and slowly spun the lid from its lips and took one of her remaining few matches and struck it careful not to waste the precious fire. She lit the rag which burned slowly fueled by the animal fat and oils creating a plume of smoke which Nat placed into the hive. The bees buzzed angrily, but fled the hive just as Nathan had taught her they would.

  Nat worked quickly to cut off a large section of comb and slip it into the jar and then dipped the jar into the honey until it was filled to the rim. She wiped the excess from the outer rim of the jar with her finger and then raised it to her lips. The sugary taste locked her jaws momentarily as they adjusted to the taste and she quickly replaced the lid and tucked her prize into her pack.

  She extinguished the cloth with damp leaves from the ground and picked up her rifle to move on before the angry bees returned. With a huge smile gracing her face Nat continued into the woods making a mental note of where the honey tree was located for future visits.

  Another mile into the forest Nat came across fresh tracks where a deer had crossed earlier and Nat hoped he would be heading down to the small river that was a few minutes’ walk further into the woods. She crept quietly down to the river’s edge and waited in frozen silence for her prey. Nat watched as several rabbits hopped to the river’s edge for a qu
ick drink and then darted back into the undergrowth when they heard a larger animal approach.

  Nat watched as a huge buck stepped confidently from the concealment of the forest to the river’s edge. She calmly raised the rifle and had the buck square in her sights. A fine specimen indeed and one that would provide meat for Nat and her father for many days she thought as her finger twitched on the trigger. Nat waited until the buck lowered his head to drink and then squeezed the trigger firmly. The shot rang true striking the buck in the heart and dropping him immediately.