by Holly Webb
“Are you scared of him?” Noah sounded doubtful – actually, he almost sounded like Tom. A little burst of angry pride surged through Amelia, making her shake her curls and set her shoulders back.
“No.” It wasn’t true, of course, but she glared at Noah as if he’d said something stupid, and then – slowly, carefully – held out one hand towards the wolf. “Here, boy…”
20th October, 1873 – later on
So I did it. I took Amelia to meet the pup. She was scared, but she hid it well. Even the pup believed her, after a little while. I could tell by the way the colour drained out of her cheeks, and the way she set her teeth together when she stroked the pup. She made herself do it, though.
He’s not even that big. I could see her being scared of a big old dog wolf, but not this little pup. Perhaps she’s been bitten, and she doesn’t like dogs? I can’t imagine what that must be like. He’s so friendly, and good-natured, I don’t understand how someone could be scared of him. I do worry about his mother, though, and what she’ll think of us if she gets well enough to come looking for him. She won’t understand we were trying to help. To her, we’ll just smell like danger. Amelia’s right – the mother wolf will see us as the same people who hurt her and made her lose her pup in the first place.
It was odd to see Amelia trying to pet him, and flinching as he nuzzled up at her. She looks so like Grace, especially in my sister’s dress. Grace would have loved him. Grace wouldn’t have wanted to give him back, she’d probably have smuggled him into the house and tried to feed him cheese.
The pup seemed to understand that the girl was nervous. He didn’t jump about all over her, like he does with me. I led them both back over to the hollow tree, and we gave him the food I’d brought. I showed Amelia his little nest of blankets and how cosy it was, but she shivered.
“He’s out here all on his own…” she said. “Do you think he’s frightened?”
I told her probably. He’s only young, after all.
She looked at me when I said that, and nodded. The pup had finished his food and he came back to us, wagging his tail and looking happy. He was dancing about, nearly tripping over his own fat paws. He made her laugh, and she reached out to stroke his ears – and this time she almost looked like she enjoyed it.
Then she said, “What’s his name?”
I looked at her with my mouth open. I hadn’t even thought about it. I suppose because I know we can’t keep him, I just think of him as the pup. But I think if he has a name, it will be easier for her to help look after him. She might not find him as frightening if she can call him something.
Amelia knows how to get to the spring now, so she can bring him his food. That means if I get some time away from the cabin, I can go looking for his mother. Then we can bring him back.
She named him Frost.
Amelia sat on a fallen tree and watched Frost sniffing about in the fresh snow. He had eaten the scraps that Noah had given her and then he’d looked at her hopefully, nosing at Amelia’s pockets as though he thought she might have something else hidden away.
“Noah’s right,” Amelia murmured, as she watched Frost look suspiciously at his own tail, and then start to whirl round and round, chasing it with fierce little growls. “You do eat a lot. Noah said he’d go and check his snares later.” She shuddered at the thought of the poor rabbits, but Noah’s family lived by hunting. She knew they only caught what they needed to survive, but she still didn’t like it. At least Noah hadn’t asked her to go and check the snares for him.
“And now he’s got to feed me as well as you. I think between us we got most of his breakfast.” She sighed. “I wish I could do something to help.” She sank her chin into her hands and stared down at her snow-soaked boots. She still wasn’t sure why she had come here. It must have been for a reason – to help, somehow. But Amelia wasn’t feeling very useful.
Frost stopped dancing after his tail and padded over to her. He rested his heavy muzzle on her lap, and Amelia swallowed hard. Even yesterday, she would have been terrified. His mouth was open a little, and she could see his teeth. Frost was far from fully grown, but his jaws were strong. Deep down inside, she was still scared of him. But he was so warm against her knees, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He seemed to know that Amelia was sad, and he waggled his whiskers at her. She giggled and gently cupped her mittened hands on either side of his head. “You’re funny. Funny little wolf.”
There were flakes of snow caught in the grey-white fur round his muzzle, and they glittered in the faint sunlight – he looked like he had been dusted with sugar. Amelia brushed them away gently, and Frost slumped on to her feet with a contented little oooof.
“That’s nice,” Amelia murmured. “My feet are damp. I wish I’d come time-travelling in snow boots, not slippers. Grace’s boots are good, but they don’t keep the snow all the way out.” She shivered. It was growing colder – the light was fading. She’d have to set off back to the stable soon. Noah had piled up more straw for her to hide behind, even though he’d promised Amelia that it was almost always him doing the stable chores. Then he’d looked sideways at her. “You can’t just disappear, then, if my pa turns up?”
Amelia had shaken her head. “I’m not a … a fairy, or something. I don’t even know how I got here. I definitely don’t know how to go back again.”
She had slept last night curled up on the straw, wrapped in layers of blankets. Noah had explained that the stable was one of the warmest places to be – probably warmer than his loft bedroom. Ruby, Russet and Lucy warmed the air, and Amelia would be cosy. She hadn’t quite believed him, she was sure she’d be frozen, but it was true. She hadn’t been cold at all. She hadn’t even woken until he’d come to feed the animals in the morning.
Frost was lying across her feet now, with his nose settled on his paws, and Amelia eyed him regretfully. He looked so comfy, and he really was helping her feet. She could almost feel her toes again, for the first time in an hour or so.
“I have to go,” she whispered, but Frost only grunted and didn’t move, even when something rustled among the trees across the clearing. Amelia was sure she saw a rabbit peep out at them, but Frost didn’t look bothered. He was sleepy after his meal, and his game.
“Oh, well… Maybe just a few more minutes. It’s getting darker, though. I suppose it does get dark early here, in the winter.” Amelia squinted up at the scrap of sky she could see through the trees. It was yellowish, now the sun had disappeared, and there were heavy clouds gathering.
Frost looked up, and sniffed curiously at a fat white snowflake circling down towards his nose. His jaws snapped together sharply, and he looked up at Amelia in surprise as he felt the cold on his tongue.
“Snowing again…” Amelia stood up, looking around worriedly. It seemed even darker than it had done seconds before, and there was another snowflake, and another and another. And now they weren’t just floating down out of those yellowish clouds, they were whirling and gusting all around her.
She would never be able to find her way back to the cabin in this blizzard. Amelia glanced down at Frost, who had laid his ears back, and looked just as worried as she did by the sudden storm. She didn’t want to leave him out here on his own, either.
The pup let out a tiny whimper, and pressed himself against Amelia’s legs. Even though she was frightened by the storm, Amelia felt herself smiling. He trusted her. He was scared and he trusted her to help! She stared determinedly around at the clearing, squinting through the snowflakes as she tried to work out what to do. “I’m not going back to the stable,” she murmured, rubbing Frost’s ears gently. “I’m not leaving you behind. So it’s the hollow tree or nothing. Come on. It’ll be a bit of a squash, but at least we’ll keep each other warm…”
She hurried him over to the tree and crouched down, trying not to think about what else might be sharing the hollow with them. It was too cold for spiders, she told herself firmly, as Frost wriggled in after her. Then he turned to peer out o
f the opening and whimpered.
“I know,” Amelia whispered to him. “It’s horrible, isn’t it?” She loved snow, but she had never seen it like this. The snowflakes were falling so thickly that she could hardly see across the little clearing.
Frost stepped away from the jagged opening in the tree and whimpered again, curling himself against the back of the trunk. The wind had shifted, and now the snow was starting to blow into the hole, stinging his eyes.
Amelia sucked in an anxious breath. The hollow tree was a wonderful shelter, even though it was cramped with the two of them in there. But it would be no good at all if it filled up with snow. She looked doubtfully at the thick woollen blanket that Noah had given Frost to sleep on. She wasn’t sure if it was much use against snow, but it was all they had. Wriggling it half out from under herself and Frost, she held it up against the opening, tucking the edge into a useful crack that went higher up the tree trunk. She wedged it with a couple of slivers of bark, too, so that the blanket hung down across the hole, shielding them from the worst of the snow. Then she edged back next to Frost and ran her hand gently over his twitchy ears.
“You don’t like it, do you? Maybe you’ve never seen a big snowstorm. Or if you have, you were huddled up in a nice cosy cave with your mum and you didn’t mind.”
Amelia unwound the green and red checked muffler that Noah had given her. He’d had to show her how to wind it crosswise over her chest and tie it at the back – Amelia had never worn anything like it before. She laid it out on her lap, and patted it hopefully. With the blanket hung up as a curtain, Frost was sitting on a cushion of dried leaves and pine needles. She was sure that snuggling up with the muffler wrapped round them would be more comfortable. And they needed to keep each other warm.
Frost lifted his nose from his paws and looked up at her worriedly. She could see his eyes shining in the shadowy dimness of the hollow tree. The whirling madness of the snowstorm had clearly upset him. But at last he wriggled forward a little bit, and very gradually, he climbed half into Amelia’s lap. There was too much of him to curl up like a cat, but he slumped across her knees, and sighed contentedly.
“We’ll just have to stay here till it stops,” Amelia whispered. “I wish I hadn’t given you all the food, but I didn’t know this was going to happen…” She wrapped her arms round Frost’s neck, and he made a happy grumbling noise. “The snow’s too heavy for Noah to come and find us,” she murmured into his fur. “I hope he doesn’t try. We’ll be all right till morning. He’ll come and find us then.” She was trying to sound determined and hopeful, but her voice wavered a bit, and Frost nosed gently at her cheek.
It was eerie, in the dark. She could see the odd flake of snow settling on the edge of the blanket here and there, but that was all. The snow was silent, but that only seemed to make it more frightening. Amelia sat in their hollow, peering out at the little smudge of snowy darkness, and stroking Frost’s silvery fur over and over again.
21st October, 1873
She’s not back. The snowstorm came down so suddenly while Amelia was still out in the woods with Frost. I tried to go and fetch her, but I had to stop before I got halfway. I couldn’t see. My eyelashes had ice on them, and it was all round my nose and mouth, too, even with a muffler wrapped round.
I got back to the cabin and Pa was furious – he grabbed me and hugged me first, and then he took me by the shoulders and shook me and told me to promise him I’d never go out in a storm like that again.
I guess I nodded, and he let me be. I couldn’t say it out loud, but I want to be out there now, finding them! Instead I’m sat inside in the warmth of the stove, full of Ma’s stew and pancakes. But I’ve got a stash of pancakes wrapped in a cloth in my coat pocket.
As soon as it’s light, I’ll go. Whatever Pa thinks, I don’t care. If he won’t let me, I’ll tell him and Ma about Amelia, and Frost. I don’t care who finds them, as long as someone does.
“Amelia! Amelia! Are you there?”
Amelia felt Frost wriggle on her lap and she sat up, groaning. She was stiff all over and so cold that she could hardly feel her fingers. But they were safe! They had slept through the snowstorm together, and there was sparkling snow-white light glowing round the edges of the blanket now.
“Amelia! Frost!”
“Oh, Noah!” Amelia leaned forward, and tried to pull back the blanket. Perhaps he couldn’t see where they were.
It was stuck, and she had to shift the sleepy, grumpy wolf mostly off her knees to yank at it. And then the blanket came away, all at once, and quite a lot of snow came with it, crumpling down on top of the grey wool. Even so, there was an awful lot of snow left. A wall of it, built up in front of the hole in the tree, white and rippled and slightly glittery. Amelia gaped at it. The hole in the tree was at least a metre tall, and it was almost all covered up. There was just a patch of light coming in at the top. Had all that snow fallen in one night?
Frost whined anxiously, and clawed at the snowdrift with a cautious paw.
“I think we’re going to have to dig our way out,” Amelia agreed, pushing at the wall of snow with her mitten.
“Amelia! Is that you?” called Noah.
Amelia giggled suddenly. “How many other friends have you got buried in snowdrifts out in these woods?”
There was a scuffling, and the patch of light got larger as two grey-gloved hands dug into it. “Very funny. I was worried about you! Real worried. I tried to come and find you last night, but Pa wouldn’t let me leave the house in the snowstorm. I imagined you freezing to death out here. And then… Well, I wondered if you’d gone back to wherever it was you came from.”
Amelia smiled up at him. “Hopefully that won’t happen until we’ve taken Frost back to his mother. And you didn’t need to worry about us, we kept each other warm. Warmish, anyway.” She rubbed Frost’s soft head thoughtfully. “It would have been worse for him if he was all on his own. The snow would have blown in and swamped him.”
“You did well to pin the blanket up,” Noah told her gruffly, as he worked away at the wall of snow. Frost and Amelia helped from the inside, scrabbling and digging, until at last Frost could scramble out into the clearing again. Noah then hauled Amelia out and they watched the little wolf race around, sinking chest-deep into the soft new snow and yelping like a mad thing.
“I don’t think he liked being shut up,” Amelia said, laughing.
Noah grimaced. “It’s good he’s got some life in him. He’s going to need to make a trip. The Wrights came by our cabin early this morning, to warn us. I’d have been here before if I hadn’t stayed to listen to what they were saying. They heard a wolf around their house last night.”
“Frost’s mother!” Amelia gasped.
“I think so.” Noah nodded. “There can’t be two lone wolves hunting around here all of a sudden, can there? Samson Wright says he thinks he knows where she’s hiding out. There are some caves along the bank of the river, like I told you yesterday. Mr Wright reckons she’s there, too. He came by to see if we’d heard her. He said he was going back home to…” He swallowed. “To melt down some lead and make more bullets for their guns. And then he and Joshua are setting off to follow her tracks – they say it shouldn’t be too hard, with the fresh snow. I think they wanted Pa to go with them, but you know he’s not sure there even is a wolf.” Noah glanced sideways at Amelia. “They’re going to shoot her.”
“No!” Amelia whispered. “We can’t let them.” She crouched down as Frost came skittering up to her, tail whisking delightedly, and brushed the snow crystals from his muzzle. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous, Noah. Surely if we take Frost back to her, she’ll know that we aren’t mean like the Wrights? She’ll be too pleased to see her pup even to notice us.”
“Let’s hope so,” Noah said grimly. “But we have to get going now, Amelia. Look, you eat these.” He handed her some pancakes, wrapped in a cloth. “And I’ve brought some scraps for Frost, just to give him the energy for a long walk. As soo
n as he’s eaten, we’ve got to go. The Wrights could have set off already. They mustn’t find his mother first.”
He pulled out a little tin pan, full of breakfast scraps, and set it down in front of Frost, who started to gobble them up eagerly. Amelia leaned against the tree and watched the pup, frowning worriedly. He was still so young. Would he be able to manage the long walk to the river? Would she?
“I have to,” she whispered. “We have to get you both away safely. I’m not leaving you, or your mother, to the hunters.”
22nd October, 1873
Amelia is feeding Frost and eating the pancakes I brought. I said I was going off to check the snares – maybe we can use the rabbits I’ve got to tempt his mother out? I don’t know. I don’t know how this is going to work at all. I can only hope and pray that it will, somehow. It makes me feel better to write this down. And to draw one last quick sketch of Frost and Amelia, while he eats up the last of the dried berries I brought for him. They can’t see me, here behind this tree.
The drawing isn’t very good, but it may be the last I have of them after today. If all goes well, Frost will be off across the river with his mother, to find the rest of their pack. And if it doesn’t go well – I don’t want to think about that.
Whatever happens, once Frost is gone, Amelia will go, too. I’m almost sure.
I wish… I wish they could stay.
