The Comfort Shack Read Online Free PDF Page A

she screamed and cursed.
    “I will come for you, all of you.” Libby
denigrated every man she'd slept with by name, shouting details of
their personal shortcomings, the stream of bile interrupted only
when waves crashed over her head. According to Libby, a child’s
thumb was bigger than Howard Leeds. And Benjamin Cooper was done
before he began, and so it went. The officers remained motionless,
eyes looking straight ahead as their names were called.
    Some of the enlisted men turned to stare,
grins on their faces as weaknesses of the officers were revealed.
Some snickered. The wives took their lead from their husbands,
pretending they’d heard nothing. But of course they did hear. They
heard every word. And from the intimate details the Indian girl
spewed, they knew it was all true. Rebecca waited for her name to
be added to the list with her head tipped down and her eyes closed.
She dreaded the moment the crowd would shift its attention toward
her. She would be a social leper afterward.
    It took an hour for the tide to come in and
cover Libby completely. She never got the chance to castigate
Rebecca. The crowd wandered back to the fort. Rebecca joined her
husband on the seat of the buckboard and clung to his arm. They
didn't speak for the rest of the night.
    Rebecca assumed things would return to normal
after the witch was gone, if that's what she was . However,
things seemed far from normal. She supposed the past could not be
unwritten, but with time, she and Jonathon would move past this.
They all would.
     
     
    Rebecca awoke the next morning after a fitful
night of sleep. She turned for Jonathon. He was already gone. It
was seven o'clock on Sunday and he hadn't had breakfast. Rebecca
dressed. She stepped outside into fresh snow. The parade ground was
empty. She checked the walls. No sentries marched watch. The gates
stood open and the buckboard was missing. The fort was empty.
Maneuvers? On a Sunday? But there were no tracks in the snow.
     
     
    Leanne looked into the glowing eyes of her
girls as Ellie told the story. She had them waiting on her every
word. Leanne didn't know that Ellie had omitted the seduction of
Rebecca Smythe for the sake of her children.
    “Rebecca Smythe walked down the road to the
harbor,” Ellie said. “She feared the worst. Was Libby dead? Would
her body be where they’d left it?
    “The tide was out when Rebecca reached the
shore. Standing in formation facing the beach, up to their necks in
water, were three-hundred dead soldiers, faces the whitish-blue of
glacier ice. Standing at the front as if leading his troops, was
their Commander, Jonathon Smythe.”
    “Is that a true story?” Lisa asked, her
braces glimmering in the floodlights of the parade ground.
    Ellie nodded, “It's all true. Are you glad
you took the tour?”
    The girls jerked their heads up and down.
“What happened to Rebecca?” Jenny asked.
    “She returned to England carrying Jonathon's
child. Years later, she returned and settled in Virginia.”
    Leanne interrupted, “Okay girls, it's late
and we've imposed on poor Ellie long enough. Back to the cottage. I
want you ready for bed in fifteen minutes.”
    The girls frowned.
    “It's no imposition. I had fun,” Ellie said.
The girls smiled expectantly hoping Ellie could sway their
mother.
    “Go,” Leanne ordered, “it's past your
bedtime.”
    The girls grumbled as they trudged back to
the cottage. Leanne watched them until the door close. She turned
back to Ellie.
    “Thank you so much for the tour. That was
wonderful.” Her gaze drifted to the 'V' of skin above where Ellie's
blouse was buttoned, and then up to her eyes. “I noticed your scar.
You like to put a little of yourself into the story, don't you? Was
there really an Indian prostitute at the fort?”
    Ellie brought her hand to her chest and
fingered the X-shaped scar. She smiled impishly. “You caught me.
Sometimes I can't help myself.”
    “I guess it doesn't really matter,” Leanne
said. “It was