Chapter 7

When they started off again, Markle tried again to get the conversation going. “Didn’t you say you’re from the mountains?”

Frye grunted in reply.

“What’s it like there?”

“Cold.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else. It snows seven months out of the year.”

“That does sound miserable. I don’t think I’d be able to live with such a lack of color all around.”

“It was beautiful,” Frye countered softly. “I miss it.”

“Then why did you leave?”

Frye’s smile became sad. “There was no place for me there.”

Markle let the conversation drop. There was no point in talking to the other man.

The tops of buildings came into view over the horizon in a few miles down the road. In the middle of the path, Frye did a quick little jig, his delight evident.

“There’s a town!” he gushed, still shuffling his feet. “A bath!” He grabbed Markle’s hands and swung him around. “Hot food! Soft bed!”