As she headed down the footpath, the snow came down harder, making it more and more difficult to walk.But she had to get home before the first light of day so as not to be missed.
The stranger’s words shook her to the core.Bound.Cursed.Use whatever word suits you.
In that, they were alike.She, too, felt trapped.Trapped in a world that was of her own making.A world in which she lost something that was once precious to her, that once meant something.And now it was gone.Forever.
I pay, too.
His words haunted her all the way home.
Chapter 7
Wintercameearly.Snowblanketed the village, which was unfortunate because they had not yet harvested all they could from the Fall garden.Serena had a stack of animal pelts to trade in the village square.They needed provisions, but the snow was thick and still coming down.
She peered outside the window in the kitchen, watching it with dismay and worrying her bottom lip.
The start of it seemed to be when she had visited the stranger demanding answers.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her desperate attempt to get the truth had angered him, and this was his retaliation.But that didn’t make sense.He could no more control the weather than she could.
Could he?
The animal pelts were lined up by the front door.The rabbit stew was simmering in a pot on the stove filling their small cabin with the rich aroma and warmth.Papa, thankfully, had chopped enough firewood to keep the fire stoked for the next few days.At least until the snow stopped.She hoped.
Maris was in their mother’s favorite chair, humming a low tune and tending to the mending.Something she had groused about earlier that day.But with the snow piling up, there wasn’t much else to do.Papa was in his chair across from Maris reading an old book with a blue tattered cover.He loved his forgotten lore books as much as Maris loved to complain.
As Serena slowly stirred the stew, dark thoughts clouded her mind.She wished she could run away from this life of poverty.She wished she could provide a better life for her, her sister and Papa.She wished…
Her thoughts trailed away.
She wished.
She stole a glance at Papa who seemed content enough to read and stoke the fire when necessary.And Maris with her needle and thread patching a hole in her cloak.
A restless feeling pounded through Serena.She could not be cooped up in this cabin any longer.She dropped the spoon and swept off the apron that was her mother’s and then padded to the front door.She pulled her cloak off the peg and wrapped it around her shoulders, which caught her father’s attention.
“Where are you going?”Papa asked.
“I’m taking the pelts into town to trade before we run out of food,” she replied, pulling the hood up.
“In this weather?”He sounded incredulous.“You’ll catch your death.”
“I’ll take the horse.It will be easier and faster in this snow,” she said.
Papa set aside his book and rose from the chair.“I don’t think you should, Serena.The weather is dreadful, and the snow is still coming down.”
“Would you rather starve?”Her tone was sharper than she intended.She heaved a sigh, softening her words.“We are nearly out of flour and sugar and low on tea.If I don’t go—”
“I’ll go instead.”He started for his bedroom, his stocking feet silent on the wood floor.“Let me fetch my cloak and boots.”
“Papa, no.”She huffed her annoyance.She did not want to be trapped in this cabin another moment.“You’ve only just recovered from your illness.Besides, I know how to negotiate.You taught me, after all.”
Plus, it would give her an opportunity to see what the gossip mills were churning about her father’s miraculous recovery.And perhaps do some damage control.
“Are you certain you’re up to it?”Concern gleamed in his eyes.
“Oh, let her go, Papa.She clearly has a bad case of cabin fever,” her sister snarked.“She doesn’t want to be trapped in here with us.”
Serena bit off the acid retort she had ready and instead turned to heft up the pelts she’d claimed over the summer and early autumn.The heady scent of animal musk wafted to her nose.
