That was high praise from someone who came from a pretty rough-and-tumble way of life, fighting mythical creatures like goblins and the like. If Jess had the town's residents convinced he could pull off the mountain man way of life like some kind of English Grizzly Adams, he must be doing something right... though some days his continued survival felt like sheer dumb luck.

"Fixing a leak? Sure, that I can do," he said, chuckling faintly, swinging the waterskin again so that the water sloshes. Didn't take a mechanic like Raven to patch a seam. "But if I had to make one of these from scratch I might be on your doorstep asking for tips. I was in training for the army before I wound up here. Basic bush training is a requirement, but I'd never so much as been hunting before I got here. Not even camping in the woods for fun. Put me in the city and I can find you the best price for a loaf of bread, but out here, surrounded by all this nature and quiet..."

It was about as far as you could get from the boom and hiss of steam engines, of crowds and the commotion of morning traffic. Made Jess wish his father had been the outdoorsy type. The only way Jess could picture Callum Brightwell holding an axe in one of his silk waistcoats was if the man was intending to put it in someone's neck.