Shorn: Chapter 31

It was nearing sunset. Melda was kneading bread in the kitchen, Lysa helping her. Ren was playing on the floor. Shorn was sitting just outside the front door, working on a chair with a loose leg. He’d only been able to sleep until midday. When he tried to go help in the bean field, Melda ran him off, but he’d been unable to sit around without finding some way to help. There was always so much that needed to be done.

Suddenly, from Shorn’s bedroom came a loud shriek.

The door flew open, and Moll came charging out, her eyes wild. “It was on my face!” she screamed. She ran through the room and outside.

Behind her came Rascal, looking just as frightened as she was. He leapt into Lysa’s arms and buried his face in her hair.

Shorn was staring after Moll, puzzled. “What was that all about?”

“I think I know.” Melda was trying to suppress a smile. “Rascal knows how to open your door now, Shorn. He learned while you were gone.”

Lysa held Rascal up. “You scared her, didn’t you?”

Rascal trilled.

“I know,” she replied. “But not everybody wants you crawling on them.”

Another trill. Rascal put his paws over his eyes.

“You’ll see. Moll will love you too. She just needs time.”

The boys ran in. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with Moll?”

Melda wiped the flour off her hands and headed for the door. “Rascal gave her a fright. I’ll go get her. Poor thing. After all she’s been through.”

“But Rascal’s friendly,” Kit said. “He couldn’t scare anyone.”

“If he jumped on your face in the dark?” Lysa asked. “What about then?”

Kit scratched his head. “Yeah. I guess.”

Melda came back with Moll. “It’s only Rascal, our raccoon.”

Moll gave the raccoon an angry look. “I thought it was…” She trailed off with a scowl.

Melda nudged her toward the table. “Have a seat. You must be starving. I have some stew on.”

Moll resisted. “I’m not really hungry. I should be going. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I just need to get my sword.”

But Melda was already filling a bowl. She added a thick slice of bread and held it out to Moll. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll eat it if she don’t want it,” Kit said.

“You’ll eat it if she doesn’t want it,” Melda corrected. “And no, you’ll wait until dinner.”

“But Moll don’t—doesn’t have to,” he protested.

“Stop. That’s enough.”

“Okay.”

Melda was still holding the bowl out. Reluctantly, Moll took it and sat down. Her first bite was tentative, but Melda knew how to make a stew and the following bites happened much faster. It wasn’t long before her spoon was scraping the bottom of the bowl, the bread long gone.

By then Shorn was back outside working on the chair, and the boys had gone back to the bean field, though not without some complaining from Kit. Rascal had slipped out as well and was chittering at Old Croakey over something the old crow had stolen from him.

Lysa approached Moll. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

Moll gave her a look. “Me too.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

Moll shook her head. “I have to go.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Away.”

Lysa’s brows drew together. “Why?”

Moll looked flustered by the question. “I don’t…I just have to. It’s not safe.”

“It’s safe here. We have Shorn. He’s stronger than anything.”

“Yeah, I saw that. But I…” She stood up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I need to get my things.” She hurried into Shorn’s room and soon emerged with the sword tucked into her belt. “Thank you for the stew. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome.” Melda put a cloth over the bread dough and walked over to her. “It’s going to be dark soon. Won’t you at least stay tonight?” She pointed at the dough. “I’m making that for you.” She gave her a gentle smile. “Don’t leave before I get a chance to bake it.”

Moll scowled. “I don’t know. I think I should just go.” She headed for the door.

“The trails aren’t good,” Shorn said without looking at her. “They’re hard to follow in the day, impossible at night.”

Moll paused in the doorway. “You’ll show me where the trail is?”

“I will.”

“First thing in the morning?”

“First thing.”

Moll sighed. “Okay.”

Lysa cheered.

“But only one night.” She went back inside, then into Shorn’s room, where she laid her sword on the bed.

Melda looked her over when she came out. “That rip in your tunic is only going to get worse without some stitches. And the knees are going in your trousers. I have a dress I think would fit you. Why don’t you change into that and let me fix those for you?”

Moll was very stiff. She seemed not to know what to do with her hands. “It’s fine. They’re fine.”

“No, they’re not. Shorn told me about his journey here. It’s not an easy one. You can’t have your clothes falling apart. Now kindly shuck off those clothes and let me fix them. Don’t make me use my mother voice on you.”

“You can’t win when she uses the mother voice on you,” Lysa said.

Reluctantly, Moll went back into the bedroom. Melda fetched the spare dress, gave it to her and closed the door. Moll emerged shortly, looking completely different in the dress, which was faded blue with small flowers embroidered on the hem.

“You look so pretty,” Lysa said. “I never saw you wear a dress before.”

“That’s because I don’t wear them. They’re stupid. You can’t do anything wearing one.”

Lysa nodded her understanding. “I know. It’s hard to climb a tree or anything. But Mama says I have to wear one at least sometimes. She says I need to know how to be a lady.” She stuck her tongue out. “What use is that?”

Some of Moll’s exterior shell cracked then. She didn’t quite smile, but her frown lessened greatly. “None that I can think of.”

“I think I’m going to go ahead and wash these while I’m at it,” Melda said. “Lysa would you fetch some water and bring in more wood for the hearth?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Moll said.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I’m going to anyway so save your breath,” Melda said firmly.

“You seemed nicer when I saw you in town.”

Melda chuckled and got down the big pot. “Shorn, would you bring in the tub? There’s one other thing that needs washing.”

Shorn got up and headed for the barn and the copper tub they used for bathing.

Moll was backing up, shaking her head. “No. I don’t need a bath.”

“Oh, you certainly do. Stop fighting me. You’ll feel better after, and you know it.”

Moll sighed. “I thought Shorn was the scary one here.”

Melda laughed. “No. He’s just the muscle.”

The tub was put into Shorn’s room. Melda got out soap and a towel. Water was heated, the tub filled. Melda pushed Moll into the room. “Take your time. Let me know if you want more hot water.”

Melda sat down and started fixing Moll’s clothes, humming as she worked.

“I hope she stays,” Lysa said. She gave her mother a serious look. “She shouldn’t be alone out there. It’s a hard world.”

“I hope so too.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Melda looked up from her sewing. “It’s her choice.”

“But she needs us.”

“That’s for her to decide.”

Lysa thought for a bit. “I’m going to do something special for her. So she knows we care.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Lysa ran outside. Ren hollered, “Wait, Lysa, wait!” and toddled after her. Lysa turned back and took her hand. “I help too,” Ren said. They disappeared outside together.

Shorn came inside, carrying the milk pail. “Something’s wrong with Daisy.” Daisy was their milk cow.

Melda looked up, concerned. “What’s she doing?”

“She’s not eating. She’s standing with her head down.” Shorn knew nothing about cows, having never even touched one before he arrived at the farm. But he’d spent enough time around Daisy to see that she wasn’t acting normal.

“She didn’t get into the stinkweed, did she?” There was a patch of it growing back in the trees. It was poisonous to cows and horses, though goats and sheep seemed to have no trouble eating it.

“She wasn’t staked anywhere near it.”

“Let me take a look at her.”

They went out to the barn. The sun had set so Melda brought the lantern with her. Daisy was lying down in her stall. She didn’t move as they entered.

“She wasn’t lying down when I was out here,” Shorn said.

Melda scratched Daisy’s forehead. “How are you doing, old girl?”

Daisy licked her hand halfheartedly then flopped onto her side with a sigh.

Melda ran her hand down the cow’s side, her eyes nearly closed in concentration. She stopped at one spot back of the ribs and held her hand there while she cocked her head to the side. It almost looked like she was listening to something. Shorn was reminded of Netra. She did the same sort of thing when presented with a sick animal or person.

“It feels hot here to me,” Melda said, opening her eyes and looking up at Shorn. She pushed gently on the spot, and Daisy let out a plaintive sound.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. If she’s not better in the morning, we can go into town and ask around. Someone may be able to help us.” She scratched Daisy’s neck.

After putting a pan of water near Daisy, they went back inside. Melda started slicing bread while Shorn set the table.

Kit and Pol came in, complaining about how hungry they were. Melda sent them back out to wash up.

The door to Shorn’s bedroom opened, and Moll came out, wearing the dress Melda had loaned her.

“Feel any better?” Melda asked her.

Moll shrugged and sat down at the table without meeting anybody’s eye.

The boys came back inside. Melda set bowls of stew before them. Kit attacked his almost before it hit the table, then hollered as he burned his mouth.

“Shorn, call in Lysa and Ren would you?” Melda asked. “It’s getting dark.”

“After dark, we’re going out to hunt fireflies,” Kit said to Moll. “You wanna come?”

Moll shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

Shorn opened the front door and Lysa and Ren came tumbling in, faces lit up with smiles. They hurried over to Moll.

“We made you something,” Lysa said, holding her hands behind her back.

“It’s a present,” Ren added.

Moll didn’t reply or look up.

Undeterred, Lysa held out the gift. “It’s a bracelet made out of honeyvine flowers.”

“I helped too,” Ren chimed in.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” Lysa added when Moll didn’t reply. Her smile was gone by then, and she looked troubled. She made an awkward attempt to put the bracelet on Moll.

Moll jerked her hand away. “I don’t need any friends.” She got up and went back into Shorn’s room, closing the door behind her.

Lysa had tears in her eyes. She looked at her mother. “What did I do wrong?” Her lower lip was quivering.

Melda sat down and pulled her into her lap. “Nothing, honey. You did nothing wrong.”

Dinner was subdued after that. No one said much. Kit argued with Pol until Melda snapped at them.

The children didn’t go hunting fireflies that night. None of them had the heart for it. Everyone headed for bed early. Shorn went out to the barn, his heart troubled. He was truly worried about Moll. She was so young. How would she survive out there alone?

He lay down on the hay and stared at the barn ceiling for a long time, wondering if he should follow her, make sure she got to the next town or city okay. He decided to talk to Melda about it in the morning.

After a restless night, Shorn got up before dawn the next morning. He checked on Daisy. She was still lying down, but she didn’t seem worse than the night before.

He was leaving the barn when Melda hurried up to him. She was still wearing her nightdress, and she was clearly upset.

“What is it?” Shorn asked.

“Lysa is gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”

(If you're interested in reading more of Shorn's story from the time before this current one, go check out Wreckers Gate. It's book one of Immortality and Chaos, the series where we first meet Shorn. I will warn you that he doesn't appear until book 2, though!)

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