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hairy, unkempt friend, smelled as bad as he looked. |
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"You see," Ambrose began, his head hunched toward her, "there was a time when my trapping business was new and not very successful. I found myself seeking shelter in my travels from any kind soul who would grant it." |
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"And Thorn was a 'kind soul'?" |
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Thorn felt himself stiffen at her words, but the smile she gave him was not mocking. In fact, she seemed amused. |
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"Not exactly," said Ambrose, turning his back as though to speak without Thorn's participation. "That was how I helped. I begged his indulgence each time I came. At first he refused, though he had already built his delightful stone cabin. Eventually, he allowed me to stay, and I repaid him in pelts. And later, money. He told me soon that he was accepting payment for lodging from other travelersand the result, young lady, is this inn." He patted her arm with a filthy hand. To her credit she did not wince. Ambrose turned once more to face Thorn. "Is this not true? Are we not the best of friends now?" |
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Pretending to be stern, Thorn said, "We are indeed friends, even though you have taken much credit for my efforts and decisions." The story was not far from the truth, although Ambrose was but one of many who had come asking for lodging. At first, Thorn had refused all who came from the direction of Fort Pitt. He did not wish to host any who knew of his shame there. Eventually, it no longer mattered. He had been determined to survive, and there was money to earn by taking in guests. He clapped Ambrose on the back. "I do owe you much, my friend." |
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The sound of voices erupted outside. Thorn rose. "Since you turned me into an innkeeper, I must see if I have new guests." He left the room. |
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Mariah, eager to get away from Ambrose and his aroma, excused herself and quickly followed Thorn from the kitchen. |
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A pretty roan horse was tethered outside, and a pile of animal hides lay on the ground beside it. Farther in the courtyard, Thorn greeted new arrivals. Familiar arrivals. Francis |
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