HAND PICKED HARVEST #3

The next leg of the journey had come with heavy tension in the air. Tension thick enough to be cut with a knife, and the wagon was in a position of being incredibly beatdown after the last winter storm. They were still in the middle of the Hidden Garden, which was covered with an even thicker blanket of snow after the last storm had passed through. The carriage beasts were still struggling to get through the icy hellscape, and the driver drove with the acute understanding that Pepper was easily one of the scariest foxes he had ever seen in his whole life.

The way he saw it, the faster they got to Corriedale, the sooner he could offload her onto someone else and the sooner he could turn right back around and never go to Woolhope again. That was what was on the forefront of his mind as he was making his way deeper through the Hidden Garden, which seemed to stretch forever in every direction.

The thing about it was that he had left his only rider out in the fields as he left. He would not go back for her, even though the guilt in his heart was mounting with every mile he was able to put between them. He would not go back for her because he was certain that she was going to kill him. The way she stared at him was haunting. The level in which she did not care for him was deepening every second, and he couldn’t sleep when she was around. Even though she had not lifted a finger against him, he was certain that she would given the first chance.

So he had left her in the Hidden Garden while she was picking more plants. Scillamint and Holly-hosta and he pressed the carriage beasts beyond their limits to get them all to safety. The Hidden Garden did not go on forever even though it felt like it, and eventually they would get through this together. Just him and the carriage beasts and the beat up wagon that would definitely have to be retired after this. It was worth it in the end for making it out alive.

Pepper, on the other hand, had not been bothered when she saw the driver pull away. The carriage beasts were too tired to go for long, and she would simply climb back into the wagon when she found them again. The tracks were fresh in the snow and Salt had assured her that there would not be another snowstorm for a while. The flakes that fell now had simply blown in from the Valley and would not be that much of a big deal. But Pepper also knew that the carriage beasts would be hungry by the time she and Salt made it back.

“I think he knows that I am not a good fox,” Pepper said to Salt, who was playing in the snow as she picked more Scillamint and Holly-hosta. “He knows that I am trying to be better and he is afraid of me.”

Salt squeaked back and Pepper pulled him out of the snow drifts.

“I am serious, Salt. I can walk, but I do not want to take too long or Piero will be mad and he will kick me out.”

Salt, not having any idea of what that meant, offered Pepper a reassuring pat before slipping into snow drifts again to play.

“You will get more Scillamint later. It has to be the carriage beasts or they will not walk anymore.”

After she picked all the Scillamint and Holly-hosta she could, Pepper shouldered her bag and started after the tracks that were still fresh in the snow. She could see that the wagon was in worse and worse condition as time went on, and the carriage beasts were getting tired and sloppy with their movements. There was no one else silly enough to travel through the Hidden Garden with as bad a snow storms as there were, so it was easy to follow. Even after a day’s travel, Pepper did not catch up to them, but could still see the tracks. And after a second day of travel, it was more of the same. She walked through the Hidden Valley, made sure to ration out any food for Salt, and would continue in a straight line to follow the wobbling tracks as the wind blew the wagon around like a pathetic wooden flag.

On the third day, she found wood pieces and wagon wheel spokes, and more debris until she eventually caught up to the driver and the carriage beasts. The carriage beasts were laying in the snow, unable to move, and the driver was trying to fix the wagon wheel again. It was getting to the point that it was unsalvageable, and Pepper scared the fox half to death when she stood just behind him and put her bag down.

“You are easy to follow.” Pepper reached into her bag and pulled out pieces of wood. “And you leave trash everywhere you go.”

The driver spun around. “Go away! I left you, you vile fox. I don’t want to do this job anymore. Just leave me!”

“I am not going to do that because I have to go to Corriedale.”

“They won’t move anymore,” the driver said. “It’s useless.”

“I have food for them.”

Pepper went to the carriage beasts again. The same song and dance. She offered them Scillamint first. And once they had eaten a little of it, she pulled out the Holly-hosta and fed them that as well. The Holly-hosta was more effective in getting them up to their feet, coupled with the amount of rest they likely needed. Stronger and more willing to move than ever before, the Driver used the wood scraps to fix the wagon wheel for likely the final time, and he let Pepper get back into the wagon with a stilted apology that went unaccepted and unacknowledged from Pepper.

“Let’s hope it goes better this time,” the driver said.

“It will be more of the same, just at a later time,” replied Pepper.