* * *
The succulent scent of roasting pork filled the evening air. Rowena found herself utterly captivated by the man her father had found in the forest. It seemed the girl viewed him as a mischievous uncle who spoke to her on her level.
“Tell me then, mister, are you like those trackers in the stories? My mommy reads them to me, and the tracker is always the hero.”
“If I were to find myself in one of those tales, I’d be scared out of my wits!” he exclaimed, earning a laugh from Rowena. “Those stories have a hero, but they also have too many enemies. I have enough of those to deal with in real life already.”
“Wow, you have enemies just like a real tracker?”
Seated close to the fire where they were grilling the meat, the tracker and the little lady created a ruckus that involved wild gestures and hearty laughs. A short distance away, the other two Crochuets were seated on a bench, sharing a bottle of wine and observing the lively pair.
