My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 21

"Thank you so much Mr and Mrs Gagarov for your kind hospitality, but we simply must get going." Henry stood up and straightened out his tweed suit jacket and waistcoat as the kind faced couple adn their children all stood along side him; one of the younger boys handing him his fur lined overcoat and Thomas his standard issue navy blue Mountie winter pea coat.

"The pleasure was all our's, Doctor. Thank you for coming to see Papa, and thank you Constable for bringing him." Mr Gagarov nodded cordially as Thomas walked up to stand next to Henry by the door; who internally was battling the urge to let out a disgruntled groan at the man's proximity to him.

"No problem at all, Sir." Thomas tipped his hat with a charming smile, all the while Henry internalised and eye-roll. He usually loved how charming and charismatic Thomas was, but in that moment everything he did seemed to irritate him.

They bid the family farewell as they felt it getting late and didn't wish to impose on them. They'd originally intended to make haste and leave early so as to be home before sundown, but as they chatted with the family they found it harder and harder to leave. What was originally meant to be a cup of tea and a bit of light conversation turned into hours of the family sharing their stories about stowing away on a boat from St Petersburg to Southampton and eventually reaching out to another Russian noble family who'd fled out to Western Canada. It was absolutely fascinating to Henry, and though Thomas knew they'd best be off, he couldn't stop watching how intrigued and interested Henry was.

However, unfortunately for Thomas and Henry, nightfall wasn't the sole pitfall that would ultimately throw a spanner in the works this time around. For about half and hour into their journey, they met with a ferocious blizzard as the snow and wind began to pickup around them making visibility near to impossibly through the howling arctic gusts. Henry and Thomas squinted as the unyielding snow continued to fall forming what looked almost like a wall of cascading snow into a grey abyss. Sitting paralysed in the horse drawn cart as the frigid tundra wind hit them like a tonne of bricks; each minute they tried to weather it was another minute of utter and inexplicable torture.

"We have to stop!" Thomas called out over the relentless wind, though Henry didn't so much as acknowledge him. "Henry! We can't go on like this! The blizzard is too strong!" He yelled, again earning him a glare form the pretty blue eyed boy.

"You promised not to speak to me!" Scoffed Henry rudely, unwilling to show how scared he really was as he shivered behind under the hood of the carriage.

"Henry, we're in a goddamn blizzard! A bit of perspective would be nice right about now!" Thomas mirrored Henry's impertinent tone. "We need to stop for the night!"

"Absolutely not!" Henry spat sharply. "You're getting me home and you're getting me home tonight! I don't care how you do it."

"I can't see anything! We could literally be going in the wrong direction! Henry, please! Just be reasonable! Please!" Thomas pleaded, and it clearly was working as Henry sighed to himself defeatedly. "I have a tent and some emergency supplies in the back of the carriage, we can wait it out and leave when it's safer to travel. Please..."

"Alright, fine." Henry screamed angrily, tugging his toque down over his ears to keep the bone-chilling wind and snow from getting at his ears.

"Thank you..." Thomas sighed in relief as he scanned though the dismal visibility before him, hoping to make out some sort of wooded area or thicket to seek refuge from the blizzard. Thankfully for them both it wasn't long before they did find a wooded area where they could get in and pitch a tent.

Henry sat on the carriage with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips quivering as he watched Thomas hastily shuffling about to set up camp for the night; finding what little dry kindling he could to build a fire in a dry patch under the refuge of the boughs of fir trees above them. Thomas unhitched his horse, Trooper, from the carriage, leading him closer to the fire and stroking his head and mane lovingly as he splayed out a basket to keep him warm from the chilly winter wind.