Chapter 57

NO SHELTER was necessary tonight, so setting up camp was relatively quick and easy. As it had been last night, Wil took care of the horses--sneaking them each another of his dwindling store of apples and getting those disgusting horse-kisses as thanks--and Brayden took care of supper. Wil kept the rifle with him, unwilling to release his new friend yet until they sat by the small fire to eat, at which point he laid it carefully on the ground in easy reach. Talk, being unnecessary, was fairly scarce until they'd finished eating and cleaning up. Afterward Wil, intrigued by Brayden's earlier hints, slipped the knife from out his boot. It had been a comfortable weight against his calf all day. It was bulkier than the little dirk had been--he was grateful all over again for the thicker stockings--and he had to wear it on the opposite side in consideration of his right hand, but he'd grown used to it almost immediately.