What had been a long and uncomfortable coach ride now became a longer and more uncomfortable cart ride. The city faded to farms, and the farms eventually faded to forest. Every so often, they passed through a town, but Slim Brown was disinclined to stop. Onwards they went, and the further west they travelled, the stormier the sky grew; Thomas tried to shake off the thought that it was an omen.
After several hours, the cart jolted to a halt. Vincent and Thomas exchanged a frown, shifting in their seats to fix their looks on Slim Brown.
"Why have we stopped?" Thomas asked.
Slim swung her head over his shoulder, stumpy neck struggling over the roles of fat. "Yers asked to go where the chit went. This is where she got off."
Each man scanned the area around them.
"This is the middle of nowhere!"
Vincent could not have agreed more. Though they remained on the main road, this stretch seemed to run through crown land; there were no houses and no signs of life.
Slim scowled at them. "It's where she got off!"
The man's chin was jutting out now, his frown indignant, and his lip was drawn up into the smallest of sneers. Vincent worked to form a question.
"It... The... How far from Abbottshire are we?"
The driver rolled his jaw until the bones gave a crack. "'Bout an hours drive, I'd say."
Out of the corner of his eyes, Vincent saw Thomas' own jaw clench. "Did she 'get off' by choice? Or did she run out of 'kisses' by then?"
The dog let out a low whine, sensing the hardness in his tone, and he absently stroked the animal's head. Slim's lip twitched.
"What's it matter to you! Point is, she got off. If you wanna follow 'er, you lot can piss off here as well!"
"She stopped putting up with your advances, so you threw her out, is that it?" Thomas all but growled. "Unbelievable!"
He moved quickly, disrupting the dog who yelped his protest, and jumped down from the back of the cart. Vincent echoed his dismount, giving Mutt a gentle pat on the head as he passed. His friend was clearly upset, his movements jerky as he tugged his coat back into place and stalked to the edge of the road.
"Oi, what about my coin?"
This time, Thomas most definitely growled. He spun so quickly Vincent could almost feel a breeze flutter against him from several strides away, and stormed back to the cart. Ungraciously, he tossed the small coin purse at Slim's feet.
"Fine," he snapped, moving closer still to the rear of the cart. "But I'm taking the dog!"
A better man might have protested. Slim Brown did not. As soon as the animal was lifted out from amongst the cabbages, the cart sprung forward, releasing a puff of dirt from the road. As the cloud faded, it revealed a glaring Thomas.
"So help me if I ever see that man again..." He took a deep deliberate breath, and focussed on Vincent. "Which way would she have travelled to reach you?"
Vincent looked down the road, then over his shoulder. In the end he pointed behind himself, off the track of the road and into the dense trees that bordered it.
Thomas sighed. "Excellent." He lowered the dog to the ground, straightened his shoulders, and nodded once. "After you."
Vincent thought this might not have been the moment to remind the man that he'd declared this and exciting 'treasure hunt'.
YOU ARE READING
Daughter on his Doorstep (HC #2)
Historical FictionDaniel Vincent Humphrey has never been entirely comfortable. His family loves him, but he's very aware that the rest of the world only tolerates his slow, stuttered speech. When a baby girl appears on his doorstep one evening, his carefully constru...
