The Old Cape Teapot by Barbara Eppich Struna

Author:Barbara Eppich Struna
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Romance, Thriller & Supsence, Historical, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781620155905
Publisher: Booktrope
Published: 2014-10-14T00:00:00+00:00

That night, Davis slept under the stars nestled against Enoch’s Rock, with three lumpy bags snuggled close to his body, his arms wrapped tightly around them. He woke in the early morning, stiff and cramped, but with a smile on his face. Pleased with his new fortune, he paid no mind to his aches as he threw the filled sacks over the saddle, tying them secure. Davis decided to walk, noticing his horse was already weighed down with the treasure. As clouds gathered above his head, he picked up his stride, eager to retrace his steps back to the mill site.

Davis made his way around the cove and up the ridge, finally arriving at the excavation. He stepped into the circle foundation and scanned the area within. The west facing stone was carved with a W, traditionally marking the door opening to the mill. It enabled the miller to watch the weather outside and the millstones grinding inside, all the while taking note of where to turn the arms for the most advantageous use of the wind.

When his work was finished and the three bags buried, he scattered stones over the loose dirt, noting the three steps that lay between the door’s opening and the gold. Too tired to continue that day, he lay against a rock until the morning. Spent from the open road and longing for the comforts of his home, he tried to sleep but stayed restless. Before the sun made its rise, he pushed his weary body up off the ground and headed towards Yarmouth.

As the hours passed across the dusty roads, he grew even more fatigued until he at last reached his house, where, once upstairs, he fell into a deep sleep. Davis lay there through the rest of the day and into the night. When he finally opened his eyes it was almost morning. Still dressed in traveling clothes, his aging body cried out to stay sleeping. Exhausted atop the bed’s coverlet, he slowly sat up. Feeling the urgency to relieve himself and in need of some more ale, he grumbled and winced from back pains as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The house was cold. As he opened the back door, a rush of frigid air pummeled his body, forcing him to stand in the doorway and not step to the outside left, as usual, for his morning constitution. The steam from his piss billowed into the atmosphere; it fell upon the hard frozen ground and lay atop the surface in a shiny puddle.

As soon as he closed the door, he found the last of the ale and proceeded to climb back up the stairs, drinking as he moved upward on his quest to find clean garments for the day’s errands. He found a small amount of water in the dry sink bowl and managed to wash his face and hands. After spotting a dress shirt on the floor, he remembered it was only worn once and decided it would do just fine.

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