Chapter Three

By the time David and Jake secured the sheep in their large pen, the moon had risen past the hills and treetops, full and milky white in its pale glory. The little shepherd paused briefly to admire the view and gave a contented sigh, which elicited a faint smile from Jake.

It felt good to be happy again.

David tugged on his hand, and Jake realized he’d been lost in another reverie. “Come on,” the boy said. “Here’s my house.” He led the man toward the tiny little hut, pushing the rickety door open with his foot. It swung toward the room inside, creaking on its leather and wood hinges.

The single-roomed home was dark and tiny, obviously. Jake could barely make out a small pallet in the corner, a wrinkled blanket flung over it. There was a fireplace next to the pallet, built into the wall, and on the other side of the fireplace, a rough wooden table with a large basin on it. A short cabinet at a right angle with the table held several dishes and two cups.

Jake glanced down at his small host, who was over in the corner, trying to light a solitary lamp. Finally succeeding, David returned to his guest, the faint illumination allowing Jake to see the boy flushing in embarrassment.

“I forgot it was so messy…” the boy murmured, causing the man to fight back a laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jake assured him. “I don’t mind.”

David set the lamp down on the table and darted around the room, searching for the extra pallet he’d mentioned. In the end, he found it stuffed behind the cabinets, with an extra blanket. Once he had laid the pallet out before the fireplace, next to his own, David eyed it and then Jake doubtfully.

“I don’t think you’re going to fit,” he said disappointedly.

“I’ll manage.” This comment received him a curious look.

“Bet it was a lot colder when you had to sleep outside all night, right?” David remarked as he spread the extra blanket over Jake’s pallet.

“Much,” Jake said quietly. He smiled hesitantly at the boy. “I’m grateful to you for letting me stay here with you.”

David shuffled his feet. “Aw… You could have stayed at the inn,” he said reluctantly. “At least your feet wouldn’t stick off the end of the bed.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Well…but I don’t know anyone at the inn.”

The boy brightened. “That’s right! You’d be lonely without me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

David grinned at his guest until a sudden yawn threatened to split his jaw. Jake smirked.

“A little bit tired, eh?”

“A little.” David went over to the table and dipped his hands on the basin of water, splashing the liquid over his dusty face and neck. Jake suddenly remembered the bandages hidden in his cloak. As he took them out, David straightened. “Oh yes; I was going to get you a cloth, wasn’t I?” This particular item he found inside the cabinets, instead of behind them.

“Thank you,” Jake said, dipping the cloth in water and wringing it out. Rather uncomfortable with having the boy’s eyes intently follow his every move, he turned away slightly so that the light from the lamp wouldn’t reveal the wound at his temple. He didn’t want David to see too much of it. That would only raise curious questions.

The boy seated himself on a rickety stool and studied Jake, watching him clean the wound. “Did you bump your head on something?” he asked innocently.

Jake almost choked. “Ah…yes,” he managed. It was kind of true. Sort of. Technically, it was someone else who’d been doing the bumping for him, but…oh well…

David frowned, craning his neck to the side in an effort to see the wound without getting off his stool. “Ouch. It looks painful.” And that was only what he could see of it, too.

“Eh… It’s fine now.” Jake fastened the bandage carefully and turned to face his short host. “So. What do we do now?”

“Um…” David looked around and glanced at the lamp at Jake’s elbow. “It’s bedtime, I guess. Aren’t you sleepy?” Jake gave a slight shrug and David yawned again. “I am.”

“Then bedtime it is,” the man agreed. David immediately scrambled over to his cot and stripped down to his undergarments, pulling his blanket over him and snuggling up against his small pillow. His eyes closed very quickly.

Jake watched the boy for a moment before he moved quietly over to the door and looked out at the night sky. The village was quiet except for the occasional contented sounds of livestock and the faint wail of an infant. A soft wind blew down over the hilltops, gently caressing the skin and hair of the wanderer.

No more wreck and ruin; no more brokenness. No more running away. Peace.

It felt good. Jake paused for a moment before he closed the door and savored this strange, new feeling. Contentment wasn’t something he was used to.

“…Jake? What are you doing?” murmured a sleepy voice from behind him.

“Nothing,” he said with a soft sigh and then a smile. “Just listening.”

“Listening to what?”

“The night,” Jade whispered.

“Oh… Oh!” The sharp exclamation caused the man to turn in the doorway.

“What is it?” he wanted to know. David had scrambled off his pallet and was on his knees on the floor. The boy pressed his palms together in front of him and closed his eyes tightly.

“I forgot to say my prayers,” he hissed at his newfound friend. “Mistress Vine always reminds me to say them.” The hut was silent for a little while then, except for the hushed murmurings of the boy. Finally David was finished. He turned his eyes toward Jake and cocked his head. “Sometimes I don’t know why it’s so important to say my prayers,” he confessed. “Why, if I have something to say to El Shaddai, I can say it in my head, can’t I? He knows what I’m thinking. That’s what my Uncle Peter used to say…sometimes…”

Jake turned away and looked out into the night again, his face tight.

I used to say my prayers too. But El Shaddai doesn’t listen, does he?

He glanced down, feeling a touch on his arm. David was standing next to him, staring up at him. “What’s the matter, Jake?” the boy asked.

The man hesitated for a moment before reaching out and ruffling the boy’s hair. “Nothing,” he said. Nothing you would understand.

David studied him for a moment and then grinned, satisfied. The ten-year-old shook his head back and forth, turning his sandy-blonde curls into even more of a tangled mess. “Mistress Vine always fixes my hair whenever she sees me,” he confided, changing the subject. “Every time I leave, I always shake it a bit to make sure she didn’t mess it up.”

Jake laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, closing the door to the little hut and leaving the night outside.

He lay there on his tiny cot and listened to the sound of David’s breathing even out in slumber. He felt his own weariness press down around him, like a blanket, but for once it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. He allowed sleep to take him, drifting.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, his dreams were not haunted by dark figures stalking him.

For the first time in forever, he felt safe.

A/N- Sorry, it's kind of short, and it's a filler chapter, I know. Oh well. What can you do? -I.I.)