To My Husband Bryan

Thank you for supporting me, always having my back and your unconditional love. You encourage me to be better, to do better and to strive for everything I hold dear to me. I love you so much. This first ever book of mine, would not be possible without you.

I love you always and forever

Love,

Ericka

Year of Corwaithe 1223

Love was something her mother said came once in a lifetime. That love could be felt like a slap to the face because it was fiercely strong. Her mother said love conquers all, love could stop wars, and love is a forever promise between two people.

Jordie could honestly say, out loud to the whole of Castre, she loved Lane. He was her heart and soul. The joy he brought her was unexplainable in mere words. He was all hers. For the love they shared was a forever promise, just like her mother said.

Jordie quickly dressed, donning a dark green gown that accentuated her figure. She sat on a bench at the end of her bed, pulling on her boots.

With a smirk, Jordie locked her chamber door. She unlatched the window and pushed it open, peering into the semi-darkness for Lane.

It was not yet dawn. The pinkening of the sky was just spreading across Castre; there was still time for her to spend with Lane before he had to go report at the end of his watch. The other guards took their turns on the ramparts, but if she slipped out now, no one would see her. Her parents would never know.

Jordie sat on the edge of the windowsill, waiting for Lane to appear. She watched the sun rise in the sky. The pink faded to a brilliant orange, and then to a turquoise blue. Still, he did not appear.

A knock came at her door. Jordie nearly jumped out of her skin. With a quick turn, she dropped back inside her chamber, closing the window and kicking off her boots.

“Just a moment,” she called.

Jordie shoved the boots under her bed. Shifting her long, red hair off to the side, she opened the door.

“Good morning, Father,” she said with a smile. “You’re awake early this morning.”

Her father scowled. “I could say the same to you, Jordie.”

Jordie smiled, sleepily giving her eyes a rub. Her father, Robert, peered over her shoulder, looking into her chamber. With a raised eyebrow, he studied her. Jordie covered over a yawn, as if she couldn’t hold it back.

Robert’s eyes hardened. “I will see you later,” he said.

“All right, Da,” she replied, getting ready to shut the door.

Robert’s left boot caught the edge of the door. “Where are you heading off to?”

Jordie’s breath caught in her throat. “I was planning on going for a walk later this morning.”

“Where are you going right now?”

“Nowhere,” she told him with a shrug, “I’m simply trying on dresses to see which ones I still like and which I do not.” She twirled. “What do you think of this one?”

“Fine, if you like green,” he said, waving goodbye as he walked away.

Jordie shut the door, letting out the breath she was holding. She locked the door again, heading back over to her bed. Quietly, she got down on her hands and knees, retrieving the boots she’d tossed. Then, before she forgot, she slipped the key to her room in her pocket.

Once again, Jordie pulled on her boots, keeping her eye on the door. She tiptoed over to the window and pulled it open, praying the hinges would not squeak and reveal to the whole of Castre what she was about to do.

Lane was still not down there waiting for her. By the stars! Where was he? His shift must be over by now, so there was no excuse for him being late. That guardsman of hers was going to get it!

Jordie swung her legs over the edge of the window, looking below. It wasn’t that far of a fall—at least, not in her eyes. Her younger sister, the prissy Lady Kathleen, might be terrified of heights, but not Jordie.

Below her was a young, slender willow tree. While it was neither tall nor strong, the tree had caught her fall time and time again. Small boulders surrounded the tree. Her mother, Cynthia, lacked the skill of a gardener, so each plant she planted found itself in a ring of stone.

Jordie chuckled. “By Corwaithe, I love you, Mother,” she whispered as she looked in amusement at all the plants surrounded in stone.

Jordie waited until she could wait no more. What happened to Lane? Was he hurt? Had he finally spoken with her father about them? Or was he detained by someone else? By Corwaithe, that “someone” had better not be a she!

And with that thought, Jordie jumped; shoving herself off the ledge, falling with her palms open to catch the branches.

“Shit!” she yelled, closing her eyes as she hit a branch, scratching her face.

With sheer luck, she grabbed hold of one branch, slowing her drop. Then she stopped. Jordie opened her eyes. She was hanging mainly by the fabric of her dress, splayed out over the branches. Her feet were spread wide, as her arms were above her head, holding onto the branch she happened to grab.

Squirming, she made her way down the tree. The climb wasn’t as bad as she anticipated it would be. Once on the ground, Jordie began pulling leaves out of her hair, and out of her long, thick dress.

“Blast you, tree,” she cursed.

“Of course, blame the tree,” a voice said.

Jordie spun in a slow circle, trying to figure out who spoke. “Who goes there?”

“Just an observer of teenage stupidity,” the voice replied with a laugh.

Jordie rolled her eyes, “No stupidity here, just a lady on a mission.”

Jordie brushed her dress smooth and fixed her hair, braiding it loosely over to the left side. She stood under the willow, patiently waiting in the fresh air for Lane. She wasn’t worried about whomever the voice belonged to. In fact, she didn’t care. No one would keep her from Lane. And nothing was going to scare her away.

Jordie shifted from foot to foot. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. Still Lane wasn’t coming. Where was he? Jordie walked around the castle garden as she waited. If Lane wasn’t coming now, then he would definitely be at their usual waiting spot in a little while.

Jordie walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. A giant gray dog lumbered over to her, resting its scruffy head in her lap. Jordie petted the beast of a dog behind the ears. She looked off to her left, watching to see who passed by the slotted iron gate. She stopped petting the animal, focused on trying to catch a glimpse of her love.

“You are just so interesting,” the same deep voice said to her.

Startled, Jordie jumped from the bench. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Aramoren,” he replied.

Jordie blinked.

And there he was—seated on the bench. Aramoren was tall, covered in gray fur, and staring at her with bright, shimmering golden eyes. Two sharp teeth came down over his bottom lip. Aramoren smiled at her. Jordie didn’t want to seem impolite so she smiled back. He seemed like a friendly creature, even if he’d scared the peas out of her pods.

“I’ve never met a shifter before,” Jordie said.

“How would you know if you had?

Jordie put her hands on her hips. “Well, aren’t you fun?” she said, rolling her eyes.

Aramoren sighed, rising from the bench. “Oh, the folly of youth,” he quipped. “Change is coming your way,” he said, circling her.

Jordie rolled her eyes. “So, you say.”

“That was very stupid, you being pregnant and all.”

Jordie raised an eyebrow at the nosy shifting beast. “Yes, yes—I hear you. Change is coming,” Jordie said. “Lane and I are going to have a baby. He loves me. And we’re getting married soon.”

“Funny, I wouldn’t have guessed it at all.”

There was something in his tone she didn’t particularly care for. Jordie looked past the shifter, to the iron gate. Lane wasn’t there. Tired of waiting, she trudged off to their usual meeting place, and Aramoren followed.

She looked skyward, seeing if it was yet time. The nooning bell would be tolling soon. Then shortly after, she would meet Lane. Jordie was going to demand an answer from the man. Never before had Lane kept her waiting like this.

“I hope he is all right,” Jordie commented.

Aramoren said nothing.

“I love him so much,” she told the shifter.

Aramoren sighed again.

“Is that all you plan on doing?” Jordie asked, irritated.

“I can tell you love the man. It seeps out of you like pus from an infected wound.”

“Oh, how lovely.”

“Well, he is waiting! Sally forth, young, incompetent lover!”

“I’m not incompetent,” Jordie growled back.

Aramoren smiled. “Because leaping from your chamber window onto a tree is so intelligent. You don’t want to squash your child,” Aramoren said, then disappeared before her eyes.

Jordie scowled at the last place she saw the shifter. With a grumble, she made her way to the iron gate. She wasn’t going to let the shifter get the better of her. Jordie stood at the gate, shaking off the experience with Aramoren, before opening the latch.

With a happy smile, and love filling her heart, she made her way to where she knew her handsome guardsman would be waiting for her.

With a smile on her lips, she snuck under the portcullis to the left side. The watch was always lax there as the castle butted up against the Forgotten Woods. She had done this every day for the past year, right after the nooning meal. Finally free, Jordie skipped merrily to the edge of the forest.

She saw Lane waiting for her down by the path entrance into the Forgotten Woods. She never knew why the forest was called so—or if she had, she couldn’t remember. But she believed it was due to all the thick overgrown vegetation clambering up the trees. Jordie rolled her eyes at the foreboding name. People like to create drama where there was none, Jordie noted, even if it was simply over a plant-filled forest.

Jordie grinned at Lane standing tall and proud in his red tunic – a rose in a patch of dandelions. His strong jaw was set, and a small smile twitched at his lips. Lane Flashew was a sensitive and private man, wanting to keep their love a secret until he saw an opportunity to ask her father—which she hoped would be this morning.

Jordie thought keeping their relationship a secret was a wise idea as her father had grown easily provoked as of late. Plus, she didn’t want the whole world knowing just yet. Being the daughter of a king made affairs of the heart a little more complicated.

Her sweet Lane studied the ground as she approached. Her heart filled with love for this powerful, wonderful man. His arms rippled underneath his tunic. He had seemed to fill out more since she saw him last, which was ridiculous, because that was only yesterday.

The broad smile across her face could not be removed. The love she felt for this man poured out of her heart like a spring. And Lane returned the same love in kind. He often mentioned how he couldn’t wait to spend time with her—to make love in the forest or sneak into her chamber. He brought her flowers when he could and always doted on her.

She greeted her man with a kiss on the cheek. “How are you this day?”

“My beautiful, Jordie,” he said kissing her forehead, “are you ready to see it all completed today? And I am doing wonderful.”

He backed away from her, patting the top of her hand. She loved everything about this man. From the proud, confident strides of his feet, to the swirling storms of his gray eyes, to the faint freckles on his nose. She loved his thoughtfulness, his attentiveness. She adored everything about him, and hopefully soon, they would be husband and wife.

Lane dropped her hand and described the private home he built for her in the Forgotten Woods. But his attention to her seemed distracted as he looked away more often than not.

Even though the castle of Veiled Hills backed up against the enormous forest, her father did not protect it. The forest was a place he deemed out of his jurisdiction because of the vast expanse it covered. He cared not to deal with the peoples or creatures living inside it. He would not risk the lives of his warriors patrolling a forest that could easily hide rabble. Jordie understood his caution.

“Come, Jordie,” Lane said, extending his hand. “I want to show you our palace.”

They walked together down the forest path, her hand protected inside his thick, calloused one. He walked with a heavy booted stride, trampling his way down the path like a war horse.

How lucky I am, she thought, at seventeen I’d found the love of my life! She gave Lane’s hand a loving squeeze. Love like theirs was a once in a lifetime experience, as her mother said. A true experience only a few got to call their own, and she was lucky enough to call this man hers. And soon he would be hers forevermore, as he promised.

Lane casually dropped her hand, as he pointed something out to her. But Jordie only had eyes for Lane. As one of her father’s castle guardsmen, Lane Flashew stood watch on the wall from midnight to mid-morning. From her bedroom window, she could admire his noble form during his patrol. Often, she would fall asleep gazing adoringly at him, then wake to find him still there, watching over her, protecting her. Lane was her everything

On they went, until they came to a small clearing in the middle of the Forgotten Woods. Tall fir trees guarded the small fruit trees, and a footpath led to a creek. Lane pointed it all out as made especially for her. Their home was special, all to themselves, as no one else knew about it. Here they would share their home and raise a family together. This place was their slice of heaven.

“I love you so much, Dee, and I cannot wait to see our little babe soon,” he whispered to her as he walked in front of her through the fruit trees.

“I love you too, Lane,” she replied, the sun warming her cream-colored skin. “What should we name our babe?”

“Charlotte, if she is a girl,” he said guiding her a little firmly past some low shrubs, “and Liam, if it is a boy.” His face drew in seriously, and a shadow passed over his gray eyes. “What do you think?”

“I really like those names,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Today, I petitioned your father for your hand.”

“Really?” she asked, clinging to his neck and raining kisses on him. “Oh, Lane, I’m so excited!”

Lane stood still for a few moments, gazing at her with a fixed, blank expression before pulling the last large branch out of her way, revealing to her their home.

Jordie’s mouth dropped open in awe as she viewed their home for the first time. The roof was wooden, not thatched with hay like the ones from the village. The windows were trimmed in wood to help keep in the heat. Flowering buds bloomed on the nearby fruit trees.

A small breeze went by, rustling through her braided hair and shifting the hems of her dress. Not a single detail escaped Jordie’s eye. Her potted plants waited outside the doors. Boxes for flowers decorated the windows. The oaken door even had a willow tree carved into it with a dark ornate iron handle.

She couldn’t believe Lane made this amazing window-paned cottage with his own two hands. How unbelievable a guardsman could get all of this done and find time to sleep and patrol! He had started building their home when she told him she was with child. He told her he wanted a place of their own, away from the busyness of the castle, to raise their babe in quiet, blissful solitude. But that was four months ago, and this is what he had done by himself.

Jordie knelt down by the cottage door, smelling her little flowers. She had potted those in her room and had only brought them outside yesterday to get more sun, leaving them on the landing outside the double doors into the dining hall. Their little petals were a dazzling golden yellow and bright red. Jordie knelt on the ground to smell them, knowing far too soon, she would be too big to bend.

With a smile, she opened the door to their new home. The cottage was cozy and quaint, no bigger than her chamber, but then again, her room at her castle home was large and grander than what most had.

Jordie peeked inside, admiring the polished hardwood floors. There was a small kitchen about six feet long with a sink. Cabinets lined the kitchen above the sink, giving her plenty of storage for things. A dining table and chairs stood to her right. The small round table had a cloth on top of it, which she thought was rather thoughtful of Lane.

A big fireplace was behind her, on the left-hand side of the cottage wall. The bedroom they would share was behind the fire-place. A loft was to the right of the fireplace, with a ladder built into the wall.

Jordie smiled as she looked at it all. It was so perfect, and grand; this home beyond all her hopes and dreams. This beautiful little place was where her family would finally begin. The smile creasing her lips broadened as she appreciated everything Lane had accomplished.

Jordie almost yelped as she saw a giant gray dog laying on the other side of the kitchen table by the wall. She walked over and petted the shaggy beast, giving it praises, before heading outside. The animal looked like the one she’d seen an hour before—but she let the thought slide for now, she was just so elated.

With an excited breath, she stepped outside to walk around. Lane had built a one-horse stall and a lean-to for wood. There was already a lot of wood under the lean-to as well, which would be nice for the coming winter.

She loved it out here. Away from the hustle and bustle of the castle life. In fact, she couldn’t see a hint of the castle from where she was. What a relief to get away from her sister Maggie’s wedding preparations, and the chaos of five younger sisters. Out here, she had peace. It was made even better with Lane, her one and only, who would be by her side through it all.

Jordie couldn’t wait for her father to give his blessing. She was sure he would. Lane was a good, loyal man with a great work ethic. He was an excellent marksman and wielded his sword with finesse. Living out here, he was more than capable of protecting her and their baby.

Jordie sat on the front door step with a contented sigh, admiring the forest and her little flowers. She was so grateful to her husband-to-be. He had accomplished so much in such a short amount of time. She sat there for a moment, the sun shining on her and warming her face. Closing her eyes, Jordie committed this morning to memory to always treasure.

“Like it?” Lane asked.

“I love it.”

Lane helped her off the ground and she dusted herself off. Happily, she turned the iron knob and opened the cottage door again. Jordie immediately noticed the large gray dog was gone. She’d not noticed before, but most of her things had already been brought inside. They were stacked neatly on the cushioned chair in front of the fireplace. She remembered packing a small bag of clothes last night to give to Lane, but did not remember taking her favorite blanket or pillow. She left those in her room this morning. In fact, she didn’t remember doing any of this.

He did say he’d already asked her mother and father for her hand. Had they said yes while she was out in the garden? Or perhaps he just assumed her father would agree, and so he’d brought everything down ahead of time. Lane knew she was sick most mornings, and being as sick as she was, she found she had trouble remembering some things.

Lane asked. He’d said so. She was more than certain Lane said he did. Inside, butterflies of excitement tickled her belly.

Lane stood in the doorway. “I brought those things down this morning,” he explained with his arms crossed.

“That was very sweet of you.”

“I even bought supplies. They are put away in the cupboards.”

Jordie walked over to the kitchen, still in wonder at it all. It was the first time she had seen the completed project. Every other time she asked about their home, he had given vague answers. But clearly, the suspense was worth the wait. Pure joy delighted her silly. She never imagined being so happy. All of this was for them, and the baby.

And kind Lane, her sweet and thoughtful husband-to-be, took care of her so well. She didn’t think anything of him bringing her things down for her so she wouldn’t have to. He stocked their small house so she wouldn’t have to go to the village if she got too sick with the babe. Lane was the kindest man she knew.

She walked from the kitchen to the two chairs that sat by the fireplace. The hearth was empty, but the early spring morning was too warm for one, anyway. To the right of the fireplace was a ladder going up to the loft, and to the left was the bedroom door.

Jordie peeked behind the bedroom door. There was a small room with a bed just barely big enough for them both. A small chest waited at the foot of the bed for her clothes, but there wasn’t one for Lane. Evidently, he’d only been thinking of her.

“Oh Lane, it is so wonderful!”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

His tone surprised her. All day long, he’d seemed hurried, which was not like him at all. And now as he stood before her, looking agitated as he shifted from foot to foot. His arms were crossed and brows furrowed deep on his face. He kicked the wooden floor, scuffing his boot.

“Everything all right, darling?” she ventured.

“Aye,” he replied, scratching the back of his head. His face relaxed a bit. “I’m going to go ask your father for a response now.”

He turned heel and left. His sudden change of demeanor worried her. Was something not going according to his plan? Had something gone wrong? Likely he was concerned about asking her father for her hand. After all, King Robert Duvoir was a particular man—an endearing man, but particular. Robert liked things done a certain way, his way, and he also liked to make his wealth and position known. And Lane did say where he was going.

Jordie resolved to stay in the cottage for a bit longer before making her way back up to the castle. Just to give the men time to talk, and time for her father to say yes.

It was already the best day!

Jordie waited until most of the afternoon was gone. The sun was starting to slip behind the castle as she made her way back to Veiled Hills. The leaves appeared golden on the breeze, and fading light flickered through the branches.

Jordie walked up the small sloping hill toward the castle. The green grass and the sprinkling of spring flowers poked their way up out of the once frozen ground. It was a wondrous time of year, her favorite in fact, as the trees blossomed with pink blooms and the hatchlings crept out of their shells.

Finally, she stood under the portcullis. The gray stone shimmered under the fading light. Each handcrafted rectangle of stone was expertly placed, creating something magnificent. Under the gate sat a gray dog, staring back at her. Jordie smiled at the beast continuing toward her home.

Home.

One simple word brought a smile to her face as she trudged merrily into the keep. Jordie went past the thick double doors, through the long, wide dining hall and up the curved staircase. The royal bedchambers lined the right side of the hallway with her parents’ room on the very end. The left side chambers were for guests.

Everything was eerily silent as Jordie walked past Maggie’s door which was, as usual, open. And also, as usual, Maggie sat at her easel painting away, like nothing in Castre was amiss. No laughter from Myah or Jenny could be heard from the hallway. Jordie’s brows furrowed at the lack of girlish giggling. Robert was not bellowing at someone, which was odd. More often than not, he was growling about something not getting done or someone not doing a task as promptly as he desired.

Korah wasn’t teasing Kathleen about the obsessive perfectionism she shared with their mother. Melanie wasn’t there to pick sides over which sister did the more perfect task. Everything inside the castle was as silent as a graveyard.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Jordie hugged herself tight as she came closer to her chamber door. Something prickled at the back of her neck; seeping down her spine in an eerie chill. It didn’t feel right. She thought mayhap it was because she was pregnant, but this was a different feeling she couldn’t place. She didn’t feel the sudden urge to dash for a bucket. Something was off.

Now that she thought about it, Lane never came back to tell her the good news of her Father approving their marriage. In fact, he hadn’t been acting right all morning. He seemed hurried and tense. Angry, almost.

Scowling at her thoughts, Jordie cautiously approached her chamber. And now she knew why something felt so irregular. The door was wide open. Hadn’t she left it locked? She walked into the middle of her room to find it devoid of any furniture. Everything was bare, utterly bereft of anything. Silently, she stood in her room confused. She had only been gone a few hours. What could change in such a short amount of time?

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Heart in her throat, she recognized the heavy trudges of her father. Then he stood in the doorframe, hands on his hips.

“Care to tell me anything, Jordie?” His tone was serious, laced with mounting fury.

“Wish to tell you what, Da?” she asked politely.

“Do not toy with me, young lady. I know what happened.”

“Did Lane not ask you?”

Her father’s face fell. He looked as confused as she felt. “Ask me what, Jordie?”

With tears springing in her eyes, she said, “Lane said he asked you for my hand this morning and he came back to ask you if you had an answer for him.”

King Robert closed his eyes, disappointment clouding his face. “Lane is gone,” her father said, coming toward her. “He said you are carrying a child, and he was leaving. Lane has been taken care of.”

Robert stood over her, his face a mask of stone. Tears prickled Jordie’s eyes. Her knees threatened to give out underneath her.

“What do you mean, taken care of?” she asked.

“He is gone,” her father replied flatly. “Trusted men took him far away from us, and you.”

“He said he was going to marry me! He even built us a cottage,” she said with a pleading look at her father.

“Corwaithe, Jordie!” He shook his head in sheer anger. “You are such a disgrace.”

“I loved him, Da,” Jordie cried, “and he left me!”

Robert grabbed her by the arm. “Damn it all, Jordie, look at what you have done!”

“I loved him,” she wailed. “What am I to do?”

“Get out! Go live in the cottage he built you and do not come back, you utter embarrassment! You’re dead to us now, and no one needs to know of your disgrace.”

“But, Da,” Jordie cried.

Robert slapped her across the face. “You,” he yelled, “have no right to call me your father!”

Jordie touched her bleeding lip.

“You are nothing but a whore, Jordie! I raised you better, and this is the thanks I receive for giving you life, clothes on your back, and everything you have ever wanted or desired? You go out and get yourself with child with the first man to come along? You’re lucky I’m not casting you out of Veiled Hills completely, or better yet, making you disappear. So, go! And don’t come back!”

“Da . . .”

Robert grabbed her again and threw her out the door. Jordie landed on her side, careful of her small rounding belly. She scrambled to her feet, standing as far away from her father as possible.

Anxious prickles danced on her skin. What now? Fear washed over her as she thought about her life and of the child she carried. What now, her mind kept repeating.

“You are a disappointment to me, your mother, your sisters, this family, our people, and the family name. You are a whore; a common bar wench I had the misfortune of conceiving. Do not come back to this keep unless you are summoned.”

Stunned, she looked at her father, bewildered. Gazing around in shocked silence, her sisters stood at the doorway with their heads down, not looking at her. Jordie could feel their shame as if they had slapped her themselves. They refused to meet her eye. They refused to speak her name, to console her.

“Mum?” Jordie whispered.

Queen Cynthia turned her back, staring down the hallway as sobs shook her slender frame. Jordie began to panic, her world tipped on end. She called out to every sister by name, pleading for one of them to intervene on her behalf, but all stayed silent.

Her own mother kept her back to her. Jordie fell silent. Her own flesh and blood had abandoned her when she needed them the most. No one looked at her. No one said a word to her as they parted ways for her to pass. Jordie hugged herself tightly as she walked through them and down the staircase.

The castle felt like it was spinning; tilting side to side with each tormenting step. Her hurt body ached, but she didn’t notice it as much as she did the urge to flee. This wasn’t what she had pictured. Her stomach began to churn; she swore she was going to retch. She didn’t look anyone in the eye as she kept walking out of the dining hall, leaving this place for good.

Her father bellowed behind her as she neared the doors, “From this moment forward, no one is allowed to talk to that woman. She will be permitted to live in Veiled Hills, but as an outsider to this clan.”

Plunging through the double doors, Jordie started to weep. Her life was over. She was an outcast in her own clan, she and her child. Jordie sucked in her bottom lip, tasting the metallic blood. The tang of it made her gag. Jordie sucked in a shuddering breath, willing her body to cease its trembling, but couldn’t. She felt like she was choking while her heart raced faster.

Jordie bolted past the gray dog sitting in the middle of the castle yard. Faster and faster, she ran from the castle, through the grass, down the small knoll, and along the trail leading back to her little home, for it was all she had left. It was all she had left of anything. She felt hollowed out, completely empty of any emotion.

How am I going to feed myself? I do not know how to hunt. I have no coin. I have no one. How am I going to be able to provide for us both? I didn’t plan on this!

She reached the cottage door and yanked it open, then slammed it behind her. She paced and paced. Her small home didn’t leave much room for pacing; maybe ten steps before she was forced to turn around. Jordie paced so much she swore she was wearing a trail in the lacquered pine floorboards.

After a while, Jordie stopped. Nothing was going to fix this mess Lane left her in. He lied. He’d lied to her this entire time, and she was stupid enough to fall for it. Her face burned with tears and regret. Was any man what he portrayed himself to be? First, Lane and now her own father. They’d both stabbed her in the back.

Oh, my Goddess, how stupid could I be? she thought. My parents, who told me for years their love was unconditional, have lied to me. Lane, that son of a bitch, has lied to me. Men are all liars. I will never trust one again! I so swear, I never will.

She cried a little more but out of frustration at her own gullibility. Jordie dried her eyes and climbed the ladder into the loft, curious as to how big it was. There she found a bassinet and a wooden crate beside it. She thought it peculiar Lane would make her one. It seemed like such a backhanded, kind gesture.

She snorted derisively. Jordie pushed the crate over to the other side of the loft and carefully pulled down the bassinet. It was crafted from birchwood and polished to a shine. Inside, there were linens, cloth for the babe’s bottom, small dressing clothes, a small stuffed toy, and a note.

She set aside the note and opened the crate. Tears welled in her eyes again, but she suppressed them. Inside she found a few of her nicer dresses from when she was younger and two jeweled necklaces. She tucked it all away for later.

Jordie picked up the note.

Jordie sobbed.

Lane must have told them this morning before they went on their walk. He must have! It made her heart sick. He had planned this all along. He planned to abandon her and the baby they made together.

She walked woodenly to her new room, the room he made for her, lay down on her new bed; and cried into the quilt, until she resolved herself to never let a cheating, lying, horrible person destroy her again. She would be strong for this babe. She vowed to protect him or her, to shield it from the lies of the world.

She woke up groggily, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. She looked around, forgetting where she was, but when she remembered, she sat up and steeled herself. Jordie had to be strong for her baby. There was no other choice.

Jordie walked into the kitchen looking for water to make tea. It took her a few tries to get the fire going, but she managed. Within a couple of minutes, she had tea that wasn’t hot but palatable to drink. It calmed her stomach slightly.

She stood before the fire, glaring at it. Jordie once thought herself to be a woman any man would be lucky to have. But she had proven to be a woman that a man found easy to use. Never again would she let someone use her.

The fire flickered and whipped in front of her as she stared into its inviting warmth. She reflected about how she used to be carefree, vibrant, and happy. Now, she was a shell of her former self. Her hurt went so deep. These new wounds and anger at being abandoned were something she knew she would need years to overcome. Her trust in people was broken.

Jordie turned to stare out the window. The castle was just beyond the woods, about a twenty-minute walk. She glared at the window, at the whole structure Lane had built to keep her inside. The more she thought on the entire situation, the more she realized how naïve she was of the true character of people.

Tomorrow morning, when the sun came up, she would prepare what she needed to store away, for when the babe came into this world. More than likely, it would be her and her child until she either died here or had enough coin to move away forever. She was in control now, and no one was going to take it away from her.

With hard eyes and a determined heart, she went back into her room to lay down and get a good night’s rest. She was going to need it come the morning.

It was five months since Lane left her all alone. Five months of being disowned. Five long, lonely months of no one. No one around her to talk to besides the stray dog that had wandered onto her property and never left. So, Jordie took him in. He was the only loyal creature in her life, and to be honest with herself, she liked it that way.

She’d learned to like the solitude. It took some getting used to. At first, she thought she was going to go crazy. For the first few weeks, she wanted more than anything to go back to the castle and beg her parents to take her in, to forgive her. Then she admitted to herself her family wanted it this way, and there was nothing she could say to sway their minds.

Instead, she learned to thrive. To care for herself without the help of anyone around her. And she would continue to be the best she could be for her child. Jordie wove baskets to catch fish, and store berries and roots. She did whatever she could do to eat each day.

She was a bullheaded woman. Now, she believed it came into her favor. Lane left her a bow and a quiver of arrows. Each day, she practiced a little more. And each day, she got closer and closer to her mark.

Jordie sighed. She walked through her forest, scanning every tree branch and low brush for easy prey like rabbit, squirrel, or even a broeshilak. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to walk these days. It seemed like she blossomed overnight and waddled like a duck wherever she went.

She had to let out all her dresses. And every one had holes in it. Even the fabric seemed heavier against her sore body. It was hard to get out of her chair by the hearth. It was harder to get out of bed. It was certainly the most difficult to put on her boots, so most of the time she just went to sleep with them on.

It took her a while to figure out how to hunt with a knife. She practiced for hours outside, throwing it against the lean-to from to a distance. It took her even longer to figure out how to skin an animal without cutting into the precious meat. But she was getting more sufficient every day. She didn’t have much of a choice if she wanted to eat and live.

Jordie clucked her tongue, and the beast of a dog came bounding back to her. She patted Ranger on the head, praising the giant hound, and thrilled that Corwaithe sent her a friend when she truly needed one.

Jordie knelt down and kissed her big dog on the nose, telling him how thankful she was for him being around. Ranger wagged his tail and nuzzled at her legs with his nose.

Twigs snapped in the distance. She froze, looking toward the sound. Ranger wagged his tail. Jordie patted him quietly on the head before striding forward, bow drawn. Carefully, she walked to the sound, peering through the bushes. A black doe was eating leaves off a low branch.

She’d never killed a black deer before. She didn’t even know what to do with it once it was down. Usually she only felled squirrels, rabbits, and sometimes the dumb broeshilak. She had killed the occasional groewindel—a giant wild bird with colorful plumage and a shrieking, echoing call. They were said to be magical, but the only magical thing she got from it was a few days’ worth of food.

She stared at the doe for a long time, watching it nibble on the leaves, debating whether she wanted to end its life. It was food. It would be a lot of food. The meat would be able to feed her for a long time, especially if she smoked it all. She nocked an arrow.

Carefully she moved the bushes blocking her clean shot. Ranger lay behind her, waiting patiently. His ears were back in annoyance, but he remained quiet. Jordie blew out a frustrated breath. This was too much work for her to do. She walked away from the animal and headed back to her small, warm home.

“Another day, my friend,” she called to the doe.

Jordie sighed. More than anything, she wanted meat to sustain her and this child, but she knew her limits, and this deer was going to be a big project she couldn’t handle on her own.

Jordie walked the trampled path back to her cottage, waddling and huffing along. From the trees, birds tweeted their songs of the brilliant late afternoon sun. But beyond the treetops, gray clouds loomed.

Jordie grumbled. It was already hot, and rain would make it muggy. Her dress clung to her body more as she walked. Jordie walked past the two fallen logs marking the halfway point home when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

A broeshilak, a tiny six-legged creature, the same size as a small pig, stood on its hind legs on the closest log to her. It sniffed the air with its rabbit-like nose twitching. Its long ears tweaked toward her. Broeshilak meat was delicious and more sustaining than a black deer. With careful precision, she nocked an arrow. Ranger whined at her side, but she released it anyway.

It struck the creature right through the neck. It dropped like a stone, rolling dead onto the path. She sent a sign of thanks up to the Goddess for blessing her with this fine meat and a quick kill. She didn’t know what she would have done if she’d not gotten it; more than likely she wouldn’t have eaten tonight.

All the while, she had a strange feeling, like something wasn’t settling right in her gut. It felt heavy. It felt achy. Her thighs hurt and her muscles throbbed with an occasional odd spasm as she bent down to pick up the fallen creature.

Jordie brushed it off. She figured she must’ve been working herself too hard to find the needed food for her and her babe. Jordie walked as briskly as she could, trying to get back before the dark clouds overtook her. An early fall storm was brewing, and when the storms came, they came fast.

Ranger bounded off ahead. She didn’t realize how far she ventured until she finally caught sight of her home. She breathed out a sigh of relief. Sweat dripped from her brow and all down her face.

“Oh, Ranger,” she said tiredly, as she neared her home, “this creature is so heavy.”

Ranger barked, pulling her by the hems of her dress to the door.

“All right, boy, let’s get this nice dinner ready,” she called to him as she entered the house, setting the animal down on the counter.

Ranger continued to bark at her. She couldn’t understand why. He kept pulling on her, trying to get her to go into her bedroom, but she couldn’t. She had an animal to skin and take care of. She couldn’t let it spoil.

Ranger began growling at her, but she chastised him for being a brat. He whined and pawed at her. He barked, snapped, and bared his teeth. Still, she ignored him, continuing to skin the broeshilak on the kitchen counter.

“Will you calm your silly self,” Jordie chastised him. “Good grief, you big nut.”

Jordie opened the animal on its underbelly. She took out the innards and set them aside for Ranger on a plate. She worked quickly as the pains in her belly worsened. Jordie was having a hard time remaining standing. Soon the animal was completely skinned. Her next step was to slice the meat and salt it.

Jordie wiped off her hands and got the drying racks down from the loft. Ranger barked angrily at her for going up there, but no one else was here to get it, and she told him so. Her dog only grumbled.

She tied the meat to the racks as thunder roared overhead, bellowing its anger and nearly shaking the roof on her home. Lightening flashing across Corwaithe’s heavens. A roaring boom—she jumped. The thunder was closer than she realized.

With an arduous waddle, she walked out to the horse stall. Jordie dug a small hole in the ground for the fire. With tired hands, she stacked the kindling and hit the flint to her knife. Soon the wood was blazing. Jordie added green wood to it, causing the fire to smoke. Doggedly, she got up off the ground, dusting herself off. She brought the meat rack outside and placed it over the smoking fire.

Jordie was absolutely exhausted. Her feet were so swollen, she could feel the pinch inside her boots. She was desperately thirsty, but she couldn’t stop until this was done. It would be her food when the babe came. It would be all she would have for a while. She couldn’t stop working. At least not yet.

She felt the long pain in her belly worsen, continuing for a few moments and then stopping, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from moving. Jordie refused to quit.

Again, and again the pains came; washing over her like water on a shore line, where the water lingered a moment before fading back into the swell of the sea. Jordie hung the meat over the smoldering flames and put more green leaves and wood on the fire to create smoke.

Only after the last rack of meat swayed over the smoking fire did she go inside to rest. She got a small fire going in her own hearth then collapsed in the cushioned chair. She was too tired to get something for Ranger to eat. She was too tired to do anything for herself.

Ranger whimpered beside her, nudging her hand with his cold black nose. He put his mouth over her boots, trying to pull them off for her. Jordie untied them as Ranger continued pulling with great effort.

“I’m sorry, my sweet dog,” she cooed to the hairy gray beast. “I’m just so tired. Thank you… for being by my side.”

He licked her hand and laid his shaggy head at her feet. With the warmth of the flames, Jordie was soon asleep in the chair.

It wasn’t long before she woke. The pain in her pregnant belly was unbearable. Between the thundering rain and her exhaustion, she was absolutely miserable.

And she wet the chair.

“Oh shit,” she said, stumbling up.

Ranger wouldn’t stop whining at her, licking her legs and feet, pulling at her to go to her bedroom. She wanted to send him for help, but she was an outcast. No one would come. The villagers wouldn’t know whose dog he was. No one would know where to find her.

She was utterly alone in this. Jordie got out of the soaking wet chair, grabbed onto the support beam in the middle of the cottage, and unknowingly pushed. Then it suddenly dawned on her the babe was coming.

Jordie remembered her mother giving birth to her youngest sister, Melanie. She remembered her mother clutching the wooded frame at the end of the bed, dripping in sweat with her legs spread wide, as she explained what was going to be happening. Her mother pushed as she gripped the end of the bed, a woman’s hands underneath her to catch her baby sister. Maggie watched in shock, turning green as did her other sisters who were there, but Jordie watched with fascination as her youngest sister came into the world.

“Oh shit,” she repeated again as another contraction overcame her. “How in Corwaithe’s name did I not realize.”

She assumed she had overexerted herself, because she truly did. Taking down the animal, then working relentlessly to cure the meat, did a number on her body. Now it all was catching up to her, and the babe was coming. Jordie looked helplessly around, not knowing what to get or where to go.

“Ranger,” she called panting, clinging to the beam in the middle of the cottage, fingernails digging into the wood, “get my blanket, boy. Please.”

The ever-faithful beast ran into her room and drug back the quilted blanket her mother, Maggie, and herself made once upon a time. Jordie put the blanket underneath her quaking body.

As the thunder rumbled, Jordie squatted down on her knees and pushed. She spread her legs wide, allowing the babe to come, but hanging low enough to not hurt it. She pushed and pushed for what felt like hours.

Sweat fell into her eyes; her body shook with drained, overworked muscles. She leaned her tired head against the beam and cried. In the darkness of her home, all alone on a storming night, she would give birth to this child and raise it all by herself.

Jordie changed her position slowly, moving so her back was leaning against the beam, with her legs spread wide.

How will I know what to do? she asked herself.

“Push,” a male voice said to her.

Jordie looked around for the voice but found no one.

“Push.”

“Who’s there?” she asked, scared.

“Does it really matter?” he scoffed. “I warned you before of change.”

Jordie scowled, trying to place the voice and the words. As another pain overcame her, Jordie cried, clutching the beam behind her head, and pushed. It was a long one this time. She pushed as hard and as long as she could. Then she felt her child slip out from inside of her. A squeal split the air and she smiled.

“Easy now,” he said.

Jordie leaned against the beam, disoriented, looking at a man with Ranger’s ears staring at her. He held her babe in his arms, wiping the birth from its face. She blinked a few times. Was she seeing this right?

Dazed, she stared at the dog-man. He had enormous golden eyes, staring back at her, and large pointed teeth that came out and over his bottom lip. His coloring was dark gray, unlike anything she’d ever seen. But she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open.

“I’m going to press on your belly to get out the after-birth,” the dog-man said.

He held the babe in one arm as he pushed on her belly with the other. She felt the sack and cord inside of her gush out. The dog-man placed her sleeping babe on her chest. Jordie stared at her perfect, little baby as the man’s footfalls echoed around her.

“Thank you, Ranger,” she said, hazily.

“My name is Aramoren,” he said, coming back to her after disposing of her baby’s sack, “and you have been living in my house.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, becoming slightly less conscious, “I didn’t know.”

“I am aware. No matter,” he said, placing a blanket over her from out of nowhere. “I will get my house back soon enough.”

Jordie felt Aramoren’s hands reposition her body against the beam. She was exhausted from everything that happened today, from picking the last of the berries off the vines, to hiking for food, and finally giving birth. Her body had had enough.

She watched Aramoren point at her arm and a shining blue-white fire come out of his fingertip and strike her arm. It felt like he pinched her. She stared at her arm, too exhausted to say anything about it. Aramoren sat cross legged beside her and caressed the child on the head as she held him in her arms. She took the corner of her blanket, wiping the small face to clear his little nose and mouth.

She wriggled herself upright some more against the beam. Whatever Aramoren had done, she felt more alert and was thankful he was here.

“He is handsome,” Aramoren remarked. “But more importantly, he will grow up to be a wise, gentle, strong man.”

Jordie cried. Her son was here because of help from this man. Jordie looked up to thank Aramoren for helping her, but all she found was her dog staring back at her. Jordie blinked rapidly, wondering where in Castre a man could disappear to. She called his name, but not a sound came back at her, only a baby’s cries and a dog’s panting. Ranger lay at her feet, looking with loving golden eyes at her son.

She cleaned her baby boy off with her blanket the best she could. Jordie refolded the covering, laying him down on the clean side. Leaning forward, she untied the back of her dress, pulling herself out of it to expose her breasts. She was thankful to her mother for showing her this with her baby sister, Melanie.

Jordie brought the babe to her breast. Greedily, he began to suckle, closing his small, perfect eyes. She grabbed his tiny left hand, counting his little fingers, feeling his softness. He was perfect. He was all hers, made from her, given as a gift from Corwaithe. He was the greatest gift of her life.

It was at this pinnacle moment she realized why this had happened to her. She was meant to be his mother, to love and protect him unconditionally. Truly unconditionally, not for the sometimes, but for all the time, mistakes or no. Her son was a baby, born of circumstance, born from her, made of her, and born to be loved.

She never knew what she was made of until her father cast her out. She never knew she could hunt, fish, skin an animal, and provide not only for herself but for her babe too. Without those everyday tasks of chopping wood, hunting, and gathering, she wouldn’t have grown so strong. From this moment forward, she knew she could survive without a man.

And all of this all happened for a reason.

Now the babe depended on her, and she would never let him down. He was her greatest pride and joy. And forevermore, he would always be. Her babe would always come first. She would raise this boy into a fine young man. She would teach him to help others, to help women in need, to not judge anyone for their past but to help them succeed for a better future. She would raise this boy into a man who was truthful, loyal, and who respected women. A man all other men would strive to be like.

Lane wanted to name you Liam, she recalled.

Jordie snorted. She was going to name him whatever she wanted because she was on her own, and the boy was hers, not his. A true man wouldn’t have left. A true man would have stuck around to help her raise this child. A true man wouldn’t have done what Lane Flashew did. But there were no true men around. There were no true men, period.

It was just her. She would have to do her best for her son now.

Jordie looked down at the beautiful sleeping boy. “What to name you, my sweetling?” she cooed to the babe. Jordie pursed her lips, pondering on the several boy names she’d been considering. “I’m going to name you Boden, my little one.” She smiled at him. “Aye, my little Boden.”

Jordie carefully got up with Boden in her arms and her clothes around her waist. She made her way slowly to her bedroom. She was tired, but she also needed to clean herself off. She laid the sleeping Boden on the bed, putting a cloth around his little bottom, and dressed him in a small tunic her mother had left for her. Once he was dressed, she swaddled him in a blanket and placed him in the bassinet she brought down from the loft all those months ago. Jordie moved him close to the fire to keep warm while she went outside to get water.

It was raining now, coming down in fierce sheets. Thankfully, it wasn’t as cold as she thought it would be. She stripped off her clothes and began washing herself in the rain, using her shift as a washcloth. She washed away the blood and sweat along with everything else that clung to her.

Back at the cottage, Ranger sat in the doorway, guarding them all. If Ranger were a man, Jordie was pretty certain she would marry him; he could protect them, but unfortunately for her, he wasn’t. She believed she hallucinated Ranger was a man, but he was only a dog. There would never be a man in their lives. Not now, not ever.

She walked naked over to where the meat was smoking. She added more green wood so the fire would go until morning. She was thankful the meat wouldn’t spoil. Stiffly, she walked back into her house. Boden still slept next to the crackling fire.

Still naked, Jordie grabbed the blanket off the back of a chair and laid it on the floor beside the fire and her baby. She curled up, her arm tucked under her head, and allowed her body to finally rest.

Year of Corwaithe 1230

Boden had his seventh birthday on the last day of summer, as the last of the vegetables were harvested and the fall crops ripened before winter struck with its frosty grip. He had grown so tall over the summer and was now stocky like his grandfather. And began sleeping in the loft like the big man he was.

She couldn’t believe seven years had come and gone so fast. Jordie shook her head. The years went by too quickly. She celebrated her winter birthday alone, without any friend, save her son and faithful dog. Good old Ranger looked like he hadn’t aged a day.

Her parents never inquired about their grandson. However, they were nice enough to allow Boden to come to the village school to learn his numbers and letters. Her father wanted every child in Veiled Hills to at least know the basics. That was one good thing Robert did for everyone, and Boden so enjoyed going to learn. His teacher would send him home with a book, and he would go back a few days later with it finished.

Jordie glanced out the window at her son; his back to her as he played. Boden acquired, through means of mucking out stalls for the Clemmen family, two playful kittens. Her son was a hardy boy, built thick and tall. He didn’t resemble Lane much, save for the gray eyes. Boden was built more like her father, tall like a fir tree but thicker than a castle wall.

The only thing she regretted was not being able to provide more for her son. She cooked, cleaned, hunted, gathered, was a healer, a teacher, and much more; but she couldn’t give him coins for sweets, or a toy or anything else his simple heart desired. She was able to sell her smoked meat occasionally, but the coins went to necessities, and Boden was always left wondering what a taffy would taste like, or a sugared bun.

It broke her heart to tell him no so often. Jordie walked to the small window to peek outside at her son. Their cow was still in the stall to the left of the window. When she looked to her right, she saw Boden was busy playing with Ranger, and this small little something bounding up and down in between.

Curious, she went outside. “Bo, what is that?”

Boden smiled happily. “It’s a puppy, Mum. Harrison Fisher gave him to me since Ranger is getting on in years.”

Ranger snorted, his ears flat against his head.

Jordie crossed her arms. “Are you telling me the truth, or shall I go ask?”

“It’s the truth, Mum,” he told her earnestly. “He gave the pup to me and said it is because I don’t have a da.”

Jordie closed her eyes in shame but only for a moment. Anger overcame her. How dare that man tell my son what he does, and doesn’t have! she thought. She closed the door behind her, ready to walk into the village to have a talk with Harrison.

Jordie fastened the belt on her trews tighter, double-checked the knife and ax in her belt, then whistled for Ranger. The old dog obediently got up to come alongside her. She glanced over at her son, who now had the small pup in his arms and a curious look on his face.

“Go inside, Boden. I will be back soon,” she told him.

Boden nodded. “Mum,” he called out, “how come I don’t have a da, and everyone else does? What happened to him?”

Jordie stopped dead in her tracks. All the flame and fury was knocked right out of her. She turned around to gaze at her small son with his furrowed brows and mop of dark hair.

Jordie sighed. All these years she knew his question was bound to happen, but was always thankful when another day passed and he never asked. It is time he knew, she decided.

Boden was smart enough to comprehend. He was old enough to know the reason, but would he hate her? Would he turn away from her as well? Would he understand what happened—what it all meant for them both?

Jordie sighed again, tucking her dark red hair behind her ear. Her will to fight Harrison Fisher dissolved. Harrison wasn’t a mean man, or intentionally cruel. He was a kind, compassionate man who often spoke honestly, if sometimes out of turn. Right now, making time for Boden was more important. Right now, she needed to tell her son everything and somehow hope he would still love her.

“Boden,” she said, “leave the pup with Ranger, and let’s talk inside, sweetling.”

Boden set the pup down and opened the cottage door. He lumbered over to the kitchen table and took a seat. He waited for her to shut the door and take a chair opposite of him. He was an obedient child which made talks like this a little better. But still, her heart pounded and sweat covered her palms.

She hadn’t talked about Lane in years. She hadn’t talked about her parents, her family, or what happened to her with anyone. If Jordie mentioned anything out loud, it was always to the dog, for Ranger didn’t speak back. A dog listened without judgement, and Ranger was an excellent listener, even if he did sometimes walk away mid-sentence.

Here goes nothing, she thought.

She took his hand in hers, rubbing the back of his little hand. “I was seventeen years old at the time and madly in love with your father. His name is Lane Flashew. He was a guardsman at your grandfather’s castle.” She paused to let that sink in.

“So,” he looked at her puzzled a little. “Does this mean I have a grandpa and a grandma?”

“Yes, sweets. My parents are your grandparents, the King Robert and Queen Cynthia Duvoir.”

Boden nodded; his eyes narrowed over his scrunched face as he soaked in the information. “Then what happened?”

“Well, your father, Lane, told me since I was pregnant with you,” she paused, explaining what pregnant meant, before continuing on, “he was going to marry me, and we would live happily ever-more as a family here in this cottage.” There was a sting in her eyes, but she blinked it away. “He said he asked my father to marry me, but instead, he told my parents a lie. Then he left Veiled Hills.”

Boden looked down at his lap. “Lane left because of me?”

Jordie let some tears fall but pulled herself together. “Nay, love, he left because he wasn’t man enough to be a father. Any man can get a woman pregnant and call himself a man, but a true man, a real man, stays and becomes a father. And it also goes for others like women who accept and love another man’s children. Maybe someday, when I meet the right man and fall in love, he will take you as a son and be your father. That is also a true man.”

“A man is someone who does right when others turn away?” he asked her with his enormous, cloudy gray eyes.

“Aye, and a man is someone who steps up when others step away.”

Boden was silent for a moment, staring at his lap while his legs swung back and forth. She held his hand with her right hand, and wrapped the left arm around him, stroking his head. Boden was her everything. She would do anything for him.

Jordie leaned down, planting a kiss on his auburn head. It was unfair for him to be without a father, but she couldn’t help it. She loved Lane once upon a time. She thought they would live happily ever after, but things didn’t work out that way. And sadly, her son, her sweet Boden, had to live with the consequences of his father’s weaknesses.

After a while Boden looked up at her and asked, “Then what happened?”

“Well, your grandpa wasn’t happy,” Jordie said. “He said a few mean words and told me not to come back.”

“Is that it?”

“Aye, love, that is the story.”

He paused, “what about my father, Lane?”

She smiled wanly at her son. “I never heard from him or saw him again.”

“Will I see him again?”

“I hope not, sweetling. He doesn’t deserve to get to know you. But someday, you will have a father who loves you. This I do promise,” Jordie said with a hug.

Boden beamed at her. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” she smiled.

“Will he take me fishing?”

She laughed softly. “I already take you fishing.”

“Aye, and you’re a good one, Mum, but can my new da take me fishing and catch frogs?”

Jordie kissed him on the head. “Yes, sweets, but not if you’re constantly covered in dirt. How would I be able to tell if it’s you and not a fish or frog?”

Boden looked at his hands and arms. “I am a bit dirty. And I’m not a fish, mum, or a frog!”

Jordie winked at her son. “Go wash, babe. Dinner will be ready soon.”

She kissed him on the clean cheek and sent him out the door. Again, the cottage door slammed for the eighteenth time that day, after she told him not to seventeen times before. She let out a sigh of relief.

He’d taken all the information better than she thought possible. It saddened her that he wanted something, again—this time something as simple as a father—that she couldn’t give him. It’s not like she didn’t want to have a man in her life.

The men here knew about her. They would speak to her, kindly sometimes. But she could tell they had made up their minds about her, judged her in one way or another, just as she did them.

She thought it hurtful. The Goddess said if one man judged another, he would be judged in equal measure. But no one seemed to heed that little piece of advice from the highest power in the land, the Goddess who governed over all peoples. Even Jordie struggled to remember it. Although when Corwaithe first came to Castre and decreed everyone was of equal measure, people would cling to Corwaithe’s statement. But that wisdom dimmed over the years.

To her, Corwaithe’s meaning of “equal measure” meant love was love, no matter the social difference between two people. But over six hundred years had passed, and forgetfulness had polluted Corwaithe’s world. No one believed love came in equal measure anymore.

Her father was living proof love was never merely love but an arrangement of finances. And many others believed so as well. That was one reason her father cast her out. He could not turn a profit by offering her tainted hand in marriage. Jordie wiped the tears from the edges of her eyes.

Boden came back inside with his puppy and a freshly washed face. He sat down at the table again, munching on a roll. She smiled at him as she brought him some venison stew steaming in a bowl. Setting the fare down, she kissed her son on the head.

“Mum,” he began, “why is my grandpa standing in our yard?”

Jordie looked at him confused. Peering outside, she spied her father standing outside, arms crossed by the trail leading to her home. Jordie felt herself bubble inside with rage. She ordered Boden to stay inside and finish eating his supper while she went outside to investigate what the abyss it was her father wanted.

She wrapped herself in a scarf and grabbed her hatchet. Jordie took a look at Ranger, but he stood still by Boden. Jordie nodded to her four-legged companion as she headed out in the crisp winter air.

Jordie gazed warily at Robert. Had he come here to take her in or to make amends? His chestnut hair was graying at the sides. His dark eyes flashed with anger behind a brow creased with contempt. She gripped her hatchet.

Robert grinned. “Expecting something hostile, daughter?”

“It depends on the manner of your visit, Father.”

“You have grown bold, Jordie.”

“Eight years on your own does that to a person.”

Robert’s face went sour. “I summon you to the keep. A future husband awaits you.”

Jordie laughed openly. “Really? You came here on a personal errand for this?”

“I won’t stand for your lip, girl!” Robert yelled.

“Oh, aye, you will,” she scowled, striding toward her father, feeling the anger rise up in her.

She felt as though she could take on the Goddess herself. She threw her shoulders back and stared up at her father. A calm coldness washed over her as she said, “You banished me to this cottage, away from the castle and the clan. You haven’t spoken to me in almost eight years, and now you demand my presence?” She spat as his feet. “I think not!”

“You will do as you are told!”

Jordie laughed. They stood nose to nose. Robert’s nostrils flared as his cheeks heated red. However, she was calm, gently feeding herself an ever-flowing stream of resentment that had built itself over the years of complete solitude. She faced him as long as she dared. Then she took a step toward him, pushing him back toward the trail. Her blazing eyes never left his.

“No,” she said flatly.

“You are to be married and get yourself out of my presence and life for good,” he gritted out.

“I already am out of your life and presence. It was you who came to see me!”

“I will break you, and you know I will! You will do as I say or else!”

She laughed coldly. “Then I suggest you just try. Try to break me! I dare you!” And she walked back into her home.

“Stop this instant, young lady! The men I have asked to come for your hand surround your home. Is this how you wish for them to see you?”

Jordie spun around to glare at her father a final time. “I don’t care! To the abyss with you.” She opened the door, saying, “Try and break me!”

“Damn you to the abyss, Jordie!”

“You first, Father,” she said and slammed the door shut.

She let out a sigh of frustration. What she really wanted to do was scream, or to go hunting, but she had a small pair of gray eyes watching her every move. There was an example to be set. She looked over at Boden. He sat at the table swirling his stew with a spoon, focused and quiet.

Finally, he looked up. “Was that man truly my grandpa?”

“Aye,” she answered.

“Was he always mean?”

“Nay, time and hatred does it to a person,” she said, stroking his head.

“Why does he hate you so much, Mum? That can’t be right.”

“Sometimes people make choices causing the other person to view them as a lesser person,” she said. “In this case, I had you as an unmarried woman. Robert cannot forgive me for it.” She bent down to take his sweet face in her calloused hands. She cupped his little face and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I would gladly have you a million times over than have your grandpa in my life. I love you. Always and forever, forever and always my sweet little man. You are my world, my everything.”

Boden smiled. “I love you!” he said, wrapping his arms around her neck.

“I love you with every beat of my heart,” she said, hugging him fiercely and planting dozens of kisses on his little cheek. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

“I won’t.”

She hugged him long and hard until he began pulling away, saying she was squishing the life out of him. She told him to go get ready for bed, which he did. Soon he was tucked in bed up in the loft with his two kittens, along with his new puppy, Merle. Boden and his animal friends soon fell asleep after a hard, long day of playing.

Jordie went down the ladder and outside the cottage door, shutting it as gently as the creaking hinges would allow. Once outside, she sat on a stump and cried. Everything from the day finally overwhelmed her, from what Harrison Fisher had said, down to the argument with her father, and the simple stupid things in between.

“Chin up, girl,” she said to herself, “Things will get better. Tomorrow is a new day.” She dried her eyes on the hem of her sleeve. “Tomorrow is new.”

Tomorrow was indeed a new day, and it dawned with a clamorous pounding on her cottage door, right as the sun began its fiery ascent in the sky. She pulled herself out of bed and answered the door in a tunic.

“What do you want?” she asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

Four men stared stonily down at her.

Jordie glowered at them all. “Well, what are you here for? Obviously, my father sent you, so get to the damned point.”

“You are summoned,” one said.

“Not going,” she responded, shutting the door in his face but his boot caught in the door.

“Aye, you are going, Jordie,” he said, his tone firm. “You are going or else.”

Jordie laughed in their faces. “No,” she said, crossing her arms. “I will take the ‘or else’ part then.”

The guardsman shoved his way into the threshold of her home. The door smacked itself against the wall.

The man towered over her, “Bound and gagged in front of your son? Have it your way. We have our orders, and they will be fulfilled, with or without your say-so.”

That was a preview of Piercing Jordie. To read the rest purchase the book.

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