Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) Read Free Page A

was over even before she had left, but now there was no future, no promise for tomorrow, nothing. Rebecca angrily kicked her foot sending a spray from her skirts and cloak into the doorway of the little station.
          “Whoa there, Missy!” a voice bellowed from inside. “If you want to set out there and get yourself soaked to the skin go right ahead, but keep it outside with ya!”
          The pitiful young woman sobbed uncontrollably, gasping deeply as the voice revealed itself to be a stocky man wearing a fur cap and oiled apron as he stood in the open doorway. The timber frame outlined his solid structure and made him look like a natural addition to the coarse log building.
          “Now, now, Miss, it can’t possibly be all that bad. Come on in out of the rain there and we’ll set ya right.”
          Rebecca looked up at the man through soaked lashes and sniffed softly.
          “I’m off the train,” she sighed. “I can’t go on and I can’t go home. Leave me be.”
        “Why, ya can always go on, Miss,” the attendant replied. “No matter what, ya can always go on. No problem that ya’re off the train. Folks leave the train all the time and wander off, but ya can get right back on the next one and show ya’re ticket and you’re  back on ya’re way. No problem.” He smiled at Rebecca with such simple promise and warmth in his round face that she was only more convinced that he had no idea of her misery and she began to cry uncontrollably again.
          Unsure of exactly how to deal with the pitiful girl suffering on the bench, he approached her and stood wringing his hands before her.
          “Well, at least come inside, Ma’am. I can’t leave ya out here gettin’ soaked and I don’t fancy being soaked much myself.”
          Rebecca surrendered to his pleas, certain he’d give her no peace until she entered his desolate station. What if the man had intentions? She didn’t want to think about it. What did it matter anyway? She decided he was a bit simpleminded, but likely harmless.
          “Now Miss, where ya bound for then?” The man stood, obviously proud to have lured Rebecca inside as she shuffled into the station building and plunked down onto a hard wooden seat.
          “St. Peter,” she replied dejectedly.
          “Why ya’re not far from there at all!” he beamed triumphantly. “Too bad ya got off the train. Ya’d about be there by now!”
          Rebecca shot the man a glaring look. Why did he insist on deepening her misery? Be there by now? Then what? Rebecca shuddered, soaked through and chilled to the bone
          “I suppose ya left your luggage on the train. I’ll telegraph  ahead and they can leave it at the station there.”
          Rebecca again burst into tears, unable to imagine what it would be like to finally arrive in St. Peter. She knew that there would be a carriage there to take her to Billington, but until now it had never occurred to her that no arrangement had been made in the event that she did not arrive promptly in St. Peter. The only things she now owned were her boat and train tickets. No money, no hotel fare. “What a fool I’ve been,” Rebecca thought. “That poor girl on the train was no better off than me, but she had the sense to stay on the train and arrive at her destination on time.” Rebecca groaned miserably.
       “Another train’ll be along soon, Miss.” The man began wringing his fur hat in his hands while trying desperately to sooth the sobbing girl. He unscrewed a battered flask and poured a dark liquid into a misshapen tin cup. He slunk his bulk down onto a bench facing her and offered up the cup.
          The warmth of the hot metal mug and the curiously pungent liquid calmed Rebecca and, although the beverage was unfamiliar to her, it was strangely cordial to her broken spirit. After a time she felt some of the chill pass and she found herself feeling