“Okay,” Lucy said doubtfully, but she sat on the ground.
Lynn approached Stebbs’ shelter warily. She’d never been in his woods. The only houses she’d ever walked into were ones she already knew were empty. Stebbs’ shelter was a converted shed that had still been standing when the ancient brick house that accompanied it had crumbled. Lynn skirted the pile of crumbled bricks as she approached the shed, gun in hand.
She stuck her foot out to stop the door from banging against the side of the building and peered around the door frame. There was no one inside. A small stove rested in the corner, cold and empty. There was a window facing east with a small shelf above it that held one plate, one fork, one spoon, and one cup. That was all. The only luxury Stebbs had was a real bed pressed up against the west wall. It was small, but with a true mattress. Lined up beside the door were three pairs of boots, the right heel worn much lower than the left on all of them. His coat hung limply from a nail by the door.
But Stebbs was not there.
Lynn stuck her head out the door and called for Lucy, who came crashing through the undergrowth. “Where’s he at? Where’s the magic man?”
Lynn sat on the bed, relishing the comfort of the mattress even though her mind was enveloped in worry. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Maybe he went to see my momma and Eli.”
“Maybe,” Lynn said, only to comfort the girl. Dead leaves were skittering around the floor of the shed in the breeze. The door had been open for a few days at least.
Lucy stood on tiptoe to glance onto the shelf above the window. “So where’s his food? Where’s his water?”
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got all our food and water right where we can get it. Where’s his?”
Lynn jumped to her feet and kissed the little girl on the head. “Thanks,” she said. “You’re a genius.”
Lucy’s nose scrunched up. “Huh?”
Lynn swept back the braided rug beside the bed to find a carefully cut trapdoor that opened on well-oiled, silent hinges. A weak voice rose up from the dark depths below.
“I’m flattered you came to check on me.”
The ladder that led down into Stebbs’ underground storage space had broken under his weight when he’d gone to retrieve his supper two days before. His ankle had twisted underneath him badly enough that he couldn’t walk, but he’d been in no real danger. The walls of the little bunker held canned food, vegetables, even a camp toilet. His plan had been to wait until his good ankle supported him well enough to pull himself up through the trapdoor, but Lynn and Lucy were a welcome rescue party. He handed pieces of the broken ladder up to Lynn, who tossed them aside.
“I’ve got plenty of ladders back in the pole barn,” she called into the darkness of the hole. “I’ll go back and get one. We can get you out easy. How long of one do you need?”
Stebbs flicked on the flashlight he’d been carrying with him when he’d fallen. The light swept up the earthen wall so that Lynn could see for herself.
“I’d say what, ten feet?” she called down.
“Should do it,” came the agreement.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, it was just a fall.”
“I’ll be right back, with the ladder,” she called to reassure him. Lucy tugged on her sleeve.
“Can I stay here?”
Lynn looked at her for a second, considering. Lucy’s little nose was red from the frigid air that had bitten at their skin as they crossed the field, her lips chapped.
“Yeah sure, I guess.” Her eyes swept to the cold stove. “Go out into the woods and get kindling, just like at home, okay? When I get back we’ll get a fire started so that it’s warm for Stebbs once we get him up. Don’t go far while you’re looking, though, and don’t do anything stupid like sing.”
Lucy took her instructions seriously; Lynn could hear the little girl moving through the dead brush as she walked away, but just barely. She stifled a flash of pride. “It’s not like she’s yours or anything,” she reminded herself out loud as she crossed the field toward home.
Lynn chose one of her shorter wooden ladders, sawed it off at the right height, and headed back over the field with it across her shoulders, both arms draped through the rungs. She felt awkward and vulnerable. If there was a threat, animal or otherwise, she’d never be able to disentangle her arms from it in time to defend herself. She cast a glance back toward her house and the pond, as she crossed the field. Already they’d been away longer than she was comfortable with.