Sir Michael's Mayhem by Susan M. Baganz

Author:Susan M. Baganz
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Christian fiction
ISBN: 9781522397786
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2018-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

14

Michael traveled primarily at night. His feet hurt from blisters and his boots were worn. It was late spring and warmer than it had been a few weeks past in England. His only comforts through the treacherous journey were the words he daily read in the small book, and his conversations with God as he traveled and prayed. He found comfort in thinking about the woman waiting for him.

Home. The closest thing he could think of was Rose Hill. His townhouse was a building and he stored few personal belongings there, but it wasn’t home. He never had the opportunity to stay in one place very long over the past few years. This kept his expenses low, however, and his investments had prospered. He wasn’t as wealthy as his friends, but he possessed a comfortable income to live on, sufficient to support a wife and family in comfort. He grinned at the thought of Mouse as his wife. Of waking with her by his side. He imagined her holding a child of theirs in her arms. He’d never thought of becoming a father. But now, he longed to do that—with her. She would keep life lively and far from dull and he would be deeply content moving into the future with her by his side.

He noted the change in the air as he neared the coast and the vessel he hoped would transport him back to his homeland. He never longed to be back on English soil as much as he did now. He ventured toward a farmhouse where he’d sought shelter in years past. He found the old farmer still there but with little to offer due to the deprivations of war. What little food he had to share he more than made up with in his conversation.

“Cat is hunted,” the grizzled man said. His clothes were dirty and torn and his fingernails broken with dirt underneath as he cut up some bread and cheese to share with his guest.

The farmer’s wife came forward with a bowl of soup. No meat due to the lean times but the broth was still enough to make Michael’s mouth water and stomach growl in appreciation.

“Ah, you like?” she asked with a smile that showed missing teeth. Her hair was gray, pulled back in a bun, and covered with a cap.

Michael nodded as he sipped some of the salty warm broth, wiping his chin with his sleeve.

“A trap, huh? Someone’s out hunting cat?” Michael asked softly. “Interesting. One trapper or more?”

“Only one. A foxy one.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose as he continued to sip his soup and yet made eye contact with the farmer. Tristan? Had Tristan somehow survived and followed him to France? Michael chafed at how this might delay him, but he would rather get home late and alive than in a wooden box. Just when he thought he could retire…

“Thank you, Marcel. Your hospitality is always appreciated.” Michael swiped the last of the broth from his mouth and swallowed the mug of water.

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