The wagon stopping was what woke Bret up. He wasn't sure what was going on until he turned his head and spotted his brother sleeping beside him. He bolted upright, realizing that they had a mountain of blankets covering them, and he wasn't cold as long as he stayed under them. It seemed to be dark outside: the lit lamp that had been swinging from a hook providing the only light.
He was hungry again but more concerned about Bart's welfare than his own. Bret leaned over to see if his brother was awake, but found him still sleeping. He was happy to see that Bart wasn't as pale, and his breathing was steady.
Bret closed his eyes and sighed with relief. He'd actually thought that he and his brother were going to die in that cave...and if he managed to survive, it seemed likely that Bart wouldn't have. He was happy to be proven wrong.
A man suddenly poked his head into the wagon and saw Bret awake. "We're stopping for the night," he whispered. "I'll have the women bring you both some food."
"Thanks," Bret said. "I can never thank you enough...especially for my brother's sake."
The man smiled and nodded, before disappearing.
Bret leaned over his brother again, anxious that he not miss any meal offered to him. "Bart, wake up. There's food coming." His brother was slow to respond so Bret repeated himself. "Bart, wake up. Food."
Bart's eyebrows furrowed as he slowly became aware. He gave a little moan and opened his eyes, blinking blearily. "Bret?" he said. "Where are we?"
"In a wagon," Bret told him. "Remember? We were rescued."
"We were?" his brother replied.
Bret frowned, concerned at his brother's apparently still-unwell state. He reached over to touch Bart's face, finding it chilled, but no longer dangerously so. Perhaps Bart had been mentally unaware of what was going on when they'd been rescued, and simply couldn't remember it now. "Yes...a wagon train was passing by and took us on."
"Weren't we…in a cave?" Bart asked, still having trouble remembering the events of the last few days.
Bret nodded. "Yes, but we're out of it, Bart, and on our way to the nearest town."
Before Bart could say anything else, a woman opened the flap to the wagon and climbed inside with two steaming bowls. "I've brought you some stew," she said.
"Thank you," said Bret, taking them.
The woman nodded and quickly left so she wouldn't let any cold air in.
Bret put the bowls down and grabbed his brother, quickly sitting him up. "Eat this," he said, plopping the bowl into his hands.
Bart quietly obeyed. He didn't eat it all, but he ate enough to satisfy Bret, before falling back to sleep.
Bret eventually went back to sleep too, overwhelmed with relief that he could finally rest without fear of his brother dying. The night went by so fast that Bret didn't even notice; he slept like a log, and when morning came, it took someone shaking him to wake him up. "Huh?" he said.
It was the same woman as the night before. "Good morning," she said. "We'll be moving out again soon. I wanted to give you both some hot food before it's too late."
Bret stiffly sat up, accepting the bowl of hot porridge. "You're my hero," he said to her.
She smiled and put the other bowl down.
Bret looked at Bart, who was still fast asleep, his chest silently rising and falling. "Thank you," he said to the woman. "For his sake, even more than my own."
The woman smiled again before leaving.
As Bret ate his porridge, he realized that it was toasty warm inside the wagon; apparently, someone had replaced the heated bricks while they'd slept. He ate his porridge quickly, before his brother's had a chance to cool off. He put his bowl down before putting a hand on Bart's arm. "Bart," he said. "Wake up."
Bart moved his head sleepily.
"Come on, Bart," Bret said. "Your food's gonna get cold."
At the word 'cold', Bart blinked his eyes open. "Huh?"
"I have some porridge for you," Bret told him.
Bart yawned and sat himself up, just as stiffly as Bret had. He looked more alive than he had in days, his face no longer as pale.
"How you feelin'?" Bret asked him, as he handed over the bowl.
Bart thought about it for a minute. "Not too bad…definitely better than I did." He took a bite, making a pleased face; the porridge was sweetened with honey. He looked at his brother. "I don't remember everything…how close did we come?"
Bret knew exactly what he was asking; how close did they come to death. "Too close." He didn't elaborate.
Bart asked nothing else. Maybe he would tomorrow, but not now. Today they would simply rest, enjoy the warmth, and be glad to have survived.
Minutes later, the wagon train again started to move. They traveled for four or five hours before halting to eat lunch, and for four more hours before they stopped again.
The head of the wagon train, a man who Bret only knew as 'Jim', popped his head inside after they stopped. "You'll be happy to know that we've reached a town."
Bret and Bart both broke into a grin. Bret quickly scrambled to the other end of the wagon and poked his head out, seeing the edge of town about a hundred feet away. He turned around to look at his brother. "Come on, Bart!" he said, before grabbing their saddlebags and climbing out.
It was nowhere near as cold as it had been during the blizzard, and not as much snow had fallen there.
Bart looked out the wagon before climbing out himself. He felt a little weak and his whole body was sore, from the extreme cold penetrating his muscles as well as the intense shivering that his body had endured for so many hours.
Someone unhitched their horses from the back of the wagon and brought them over.
Bret threw the saddlebags over their horses before facing Jim. "We can't thank you enough for what you did for us; you saved our lives." He took his wallet out. "How much did we cost you?"
Jim shook his head. "I can't make you pay me for keeping you alive, that wouldn't be right." He held out his hand, and Bret and Bart both shook it. They said thank you to everyone else who had helped them, and true to his usual charm, Bart kissed the hand of the lady who had brought them food
Predictably, she blushed.
Bret and Bart both mounted their horses and rode into town. They quickly checked into the hotel, took wonderfully-hot baths, had supper brought to their room, and went to bed, both of them still tired after their ordeal.
"I wish they had taken my money," Bret said to Bart, from his bed.
"Umm," Bart said, sounding half-asleep. "They did."
"What do you mean?" Bret asked.
"I left money in one of the porridge bowls so the woman who fed us would find it when she went to go get them," Bart told him.
Bret laughed. "Good thinking!"
Bart went 'umm' again. "G'night, Bret."
"G'night, Bart," Bret replied. He didn't fall asleep quickly himself, suddenly becoming aware of a noise outside; snow was melting, going *plink, plink* as it dripped. That noise, combined with the sound of his sleeping brother breathing softly, was the best thing that Bret could've ever asked to hear.
THE END
