“Who do you think lives here?” Goodie asked as she set the table.
“Not sure,” Castor answered as he helped with the plates and silverware. “I just hope they aren’t angry that we’re using their home.”
A bright flash of lightning, quickly followed by a boom of thunder rattled the cabin and the three refugees from the storm.
“Don’t think they’re going to be too upset,” Pol said as he placed the pot of steaming hot stew on the table. “Cherokee law requires them to help travelers in need, and right now, we needed to get out of that storm.”