The girls stopped next to her, breathing hard from sprinting. They stared up at the man with large eyes.
Vivian enveloped them in her arms and spoke firmly. “You can’t take them.”
Again, the man frowned. “I believe you are under a misconception.”
Vivian’s knees felt weak.
He continued, “I am not here for your children.”
“I know, but I can’t pay the entire tithe. It’s been a difficult year. My mother is sick, and the rains have washed out half of our field,” Vivian explained quickly.
“I am not here for the tithe,” the man said decisively.
Vivian blinked and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not?”
The man stepped back to his horse and reached for something in the saddlebag. He pulled out a burlap sack and handed it to her.
She blinked at the pouch in her palm.
Without a word, the man leaped onto his horse, dug his heels into its side, and galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust.
She watched him disappear down the road in a moment of confusion before ushering the children into the cottage.
“Did he accept your offer?” Sybil asked in a soft, hoarse voice from the bed tucked in the corner of the room.
Vivian sat at the table, plopping the bag on the wooden surface, its contents clinking ominously like a collection of coins. Her fingers trembled as she tugged open the drawstring, her heart racing.
“What is it, Mother?” Cassie asked, standing beside her and placing an arm across her shoulders.
“I’m not sure,” Vivian answered. She emptied the contents of the pouch, and there was a resounding clatter as the shining golden coins spilled out, tumbling across the surface.
Cassie emitted a strangled gasp, her eyes bulging.
The coins scattered over the table, creating a shimmering heap. Then unexpectedly, a piece of parchment slowly floated out, fluttering softly to the top of the pile on the table. Vivian was in a state of shock, her mouth agape in disbelief.
“Look, Emma!” Cassie called. “We’re rich!”
“Hush, Cassie,” Vivian chastised.
“What’s this?” Cassie asked. Her small fingers reached for the parchment, and she lifted it. She turned it over. “Look, Mother. It’s from Raven.”
Vivian quickly gathered the coins back in the bag and took the parchment from Cassie. Her eyes widened as they landed on the image of a hawk, its wings stretched out. A delicious warmth spread through her body as a smile slowly crept onto her face.
The Hawkes. It was from the Hawkes.
Vivian couldn’t contain her joy, and tears began to fall from her eyes. Her face was creased with a beaming smile as Emma wrapped her arms around her.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” she asked, worried.
Vivian shook her head and smiled wider. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.”
The child stared up at Marcus, her bright blue eyes filled with innocence. She was beautiful. A tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He spoke quietly to her softly, gently, wishing he had more time to spend with her. “Can you do that?” he asked.
She nodded, her little ringlets of gold bobbing around her head.
He handed her a small porcelain doll with a delicate lace dress and painted features that made her gasp. She hugged it to her chest, cradling it like a precious treasure while her old, worn rag doll fell forgotten in the dirt.
He handed a small basket of tomatoes to the child. “Don’t forget,” he said and stood. “It’s important to your mother.”
