Shelter from the storm

The night descended quickly, wrapping the farmhouse in a blanket of deep, quiet darkness. The stars above flickered faintly, and the wind began to pick up, rustling through the tall grass surrounding the property. Jasmine stood at the window of her small room, staring out at the moonlit fields, her thoughts still lingering on the stranger who had entered their lives only hours ago.

Caden.

A deserter from the king's army, a man running from war. His presence in their home was unsettling, a reminder of the conflict raging beyond their quiet farm, but something about him tugged at Jasmine's curiosity. There was more to his story than he had shared with them, of that she was certain.

She pulled the thin curtain closed and sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the sounds of the house settling for the night. Her father's heavy footsteps moved through the hall, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath him a comforting sound in the stillness. But beneath that, there was another sound—quieter, more distant—the low rumble of thunder.

A storm was coming.

Jasmine rose and padded barefoot across the cool wooden floor to the front door. When she stepped outside, the wind hit her immediately, strong and cool, carrying the scent of rain. In the distance, the dark clouds were rolling in fast, flashes of lightning illuminating the sky. The first few drops of rain began to fall, cold against her skin.

She glanced toward the barn, where Caden had gone to sleep for the night. Her father had insisted that he not stay in the house, just in case. Nathan had been cautious ever since Caden arrived, not trusting him entirely, despite his decision to offer him shelter. Jasmine had understood his reasoning, but now, with the storm approaching, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about leaving Caden alone out there.

The wind picked up even more, the storm now moving swiftly toward them. Jasmine took a deep breath and grabbed the lantern hanging by the door. She lit it and stepped off the porch, making her way across the yard toward the barn.

As she reached the large wooden doors, she hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange sense of intrusion. She had only known Caden for a few hours, and yet here she was, seeking him out in the middle of the night. But the storm was no ordinary one. The clouds were thick and dark, the kind that could tear through crops and leave destruction in their wake.

Gathering her courage, Jasmine pushed open the barn door, the lantern light spilling into the dark interior. The smell of hay and animals greeted her as she stepped inside. Caden was lying on a pile of straw in the far corner, his cloak pulled tightly around him, his back turned to the door. He stirred as the door creaked open, his body tensing as he quickly sat up.

"Jasmine?" he called softly, his voice filled with confusion.

She lifted the lantern higher. "It's me," she replied, her voice barely audible over the wind howling outside. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's a storm coming. I thought you might want to come inside the house."

Caden blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He looked out toward the open barn door, noticing the wind and the increasing rain. For a moment, he said nothing, as if weighing her offer.

"I don't want to impose," he finally said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Your father—"

"Father won't mind," Jasmine cut him off gently. "He's cautious, but he wouldn't turn you away during a storm like this. It's not safe out here. Besides, you've been through enough already."

Caden hesitated for another moment, but then slowly nodded. "Alright," he said, standing and gathering his few belongings—a small satchel and his sword. The weapon, even sheathed, seemed to carry a weight far heavier than the steel it was made of. She noticed how his hand lingered on it, almost protectively, before he turned to follow her.

As they walked back toward the house, the wind lashed against them, the rain now pouring in earnest. By the time they reached the porch, both were soaked through, water dripping from their hair and clothes. Jasmine opened the door, ushering him inside quickly before the worst of the storm hit.

Her father was already awake, standing near the fire with a blanket draped over his shoulders. His face was hard as he watched Caden enter, but he didn't say a word of protest. Jasmine could tell that he had been expecting this, that he too had heard the storm coming and knew it would drive Caden back inside.

"Thank you," Caden said quietly, his eyes meeting Nathan's briefly before glancing away.

Nathan simply grunted and pointed toward the hearth. "Dry yourself by the fire," he said gruffly. "You can sleep in the back room tonight. But remember, you leave at first light."

Jasmine moved to the kitchen to fetch another blanket, her mind racing. She could feel the tension in the room, thick and heavy between her father and Caden. Her father had always been protective, especially in times like these, when trust was a fragile thing. But there was something about Caden that made her want to give him a chance, something in the way he carried himself that spoke of more than just survival.

When she returned with the blanket, Caden was already seated by the fire, warming his hands. He looked up at her, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said again, his voice more sincere this time.

Jasmine nodded, handing him the blanket. "You're welcome."

As the storm raged outside, the farmhouse became a shelter not only from the wind and rain but from the unspoken fears that lingered just beyond their doors. They were three strangers, bound by circumstance, each carrying their own burdens and secrets. But for now, they had found shelter from the storm.

And as Jasmine sat by the fire, listening to the rain batter the windows, she couldn't help but wonder if this storm, like the man sitting across from her, had brought with it the beginning of something far greater than any of them could yet see.