Staying Near Stanly [1 of 6]

She opened the door to the hut to walk out and fetch wood and water, like she had to do every morning. But there had been a blizzard and she had been stuck inside for days. She was hoping it was morning; she was also hoping her man was all right and would be back from his trip soon.
Returning with an armful of wood she looked up. There in a break in the mist and the clouds the sun shone on the distant peaks and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was morning and all would be warm again soon. She felt slightly saddened about that she enjoyed the winter months being cosy inside doing pleasant past time chores and sleeping, to store up for when the days and the work loads are longer.
But there in the distance up on the slope between the trees … was that a figure coming through the drifts slowly? She hurried inside; she had enough time to get the fire going a pot of coffee on and the breakfast cooking to welcome him home.

First she realised there was no welcoming yip from the hound. The mother was sleeping in her box by the fire with the six fat pups busy feeding from her, they always seem to be feeding from her. Could it be that she had not scent her master’s return? Normally the dog would have been with him but for the pups this time. The woman was welcome for the company although she hated to think of the danger her man was in being out there in the wilderness alone. They would keep a pup to keep one of them company while the other was out. She didn’t want to think of what would become of the other pups.

She rubbed her swelling to ease it in it’s fight for room. Soon soon and thankfully she would not be alone. She stood by the single window and looked out across the valley. The figure was out of sight now but the warmth of the sun on the mountains prevailed. Perhaps the sky would clear and the melt begin early.
Startling with a rush she felt her waters break. She stopped and caught her breath then saw to cleaning the mess. He would have cause to be home then!

Cautiously the woman sat on the stool by the fire to help warm the shakes she was feeling and tend to the stewing of the ham hock and swedes.
A boot step fell on the wooden porch. Still no yip from the dog but instead a low growl her eyes open and watching.
‘Steady girl it is just him.’ the woman said feeling a drawing pain, and hoping to hide it from him as he entered.
‘Woman.’
The sound of the word seemed alien so long had words been spoken.
In their life they had fallen into silent mutual living. Just getting on with what needed to be done, finding talking either inane or tedious or needlessly exhausting. She’d known he was going because he had sorted his pack and she organised the food he needed.
She half turned standing slowly holding her dropping belly.
It was not him.

~

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Tags:

cabin, emerging, hard, life, mountain, reconnecting, silent and stranger