Showing posts with label Third Scene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Third Scene. Show all posts

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene The Cancer Capricorn Connection #MFRWauthor #BWLPublishing #medical #romance


When Cate saw Rick and an older man choose a nearby booth her shoulder muscles tightened. The last bite stuck in her throat and she feared she would gag. From his startled expression, she knew he’d seen Maddie and realized the child was his daughter. She prayed he would ignore them but he wouldn’t. Maddie was his only blood relative unless he’d married and had children, a distinct possibility. Why else had he chosen a house with five bedrooms?
She pulled several bills from her wallet and tossed them on the table. “This should cover mine and Maddie’s lunch. We need to hit the grocery story.”
Lauren looked up. “There’s food in the basement freezer and the fridge is stocked. My welcome present.”
“I saw what’s there but we’ll need some cleaning supplies and Maddie’s favorite cereal.” She slid from the booth and signaled her daughter. Somehow she had to solve the new dilemma without upsetting Maddie.
“Cate.” Rick’s deep voice caressed her name.
She kept walking, hoping he would realize she didn’t want to speak to him.
Maddie tugged on her hand. “Mom, I think that man knows you.”
“We went to college together.” She chewed on her lower lip. There were things she couldn’t tell her daughter. Like we were friends. We fell in love. We had sex. I was pregnant. He rode away.
“Don’t you like him? I saw your friends talking to him. He lives in the house across the street.”
Cate paused beside her car and unlocked the door. “In and seatbelt on, please.”
“I will. You didn’t answer my question.”
Cate considered her answer. “Years ago we were friends. Right after graduation he left without saying goodbye. I guess I’m not a forgiving person like my friends.”
Inside she shook. She had to tell her daughter her father had surfaced. Any questions Maddie asked should be answered in a neutral voice. She didn’t want her daughter to hate the man who had fathered her. Right now she was too angry to talk about him. Still, she’d had his name placed on the birth certificate.
Her mother had been furious. Their conversation popped into her thoughts.
“You’ll give him a way to claim her.”
“If I ever see him again, he has a right to know.”
“Does he? Just like your father he left. Do you think I enjoyed answering your questions? How will you deal with her?”
“When the time is right I’ll know.”
Cate released a held breath. Her mother had answered her questions with bitter remarks. Never had the older woman allowed a fact to emerge.
The time to tell her daughter about Rick had arrived too soon. Was Maddie old enough to learn about her father and his actions in the past? Did it matter? A way must be found before he acted.
She parked at the grocery store. She and Maddie walked the aisles selecting cereal, bread and other needed staples. Cate picked up microwaveable popcorn for the movie they planned to watch this evening.
At the house while stocking the pantry she weighed her options. Though her new job was a challenge, if Rick made trouble, she and Maddie could leave Eastlake. She had no desire to look for another job. She could tell Rick to back off and threaten to sue him for back child support. Could she do that? Or she could tell her daughter the truth in several ways. Some could be designed to raise her child’s resentment toward him.
Rick had seen Maddie. His failing to realize she was his daughter fell into the area of impossible. Every time she looked at her child she saw him. Hair and features. Only Maddie’s eyes were green instead of deep brown. She pursed her lips. She had to tell her daughter but not today or even tomorrow. She needed the right time and the right words. She also needed to know more about him. In nine years a person could undergo changes.
Maddie ran to the kitchen door. “I’m going to swing.”
“Enjoy.” Cate walked to the living room. The doorbell rang. Tension froze her. She wanted to run but there was no escape. When she saw Lauren relief nearly made her black out.
“What’s wrong?” her friend asked. “You’re as white as a sterile four by four.”
“I thought you were Rick.”
“Who is Maddie’s father.”
The clipped words helped Cate regain her inner balance. “He is and…I feel like running and hiding.”
“Don’t chicken out. Face him. Clear the past so you can more forward.”
“I wish I could.”
“Look at me. I fell in love with Alex when I was a teen. He married Rhonda. I ran from seeing them and went to work for that international health group. When I returned he was a widower. I remained deeply in love while he wallowed in the past. I stayed and found happiness. So can you.”
“I’d just like to push this all aside.”
“No matter what happens I’ll back you. So will the others. Face Rick and let him know what you feel.”
“I need to tell Maddie first and that’s difficult. We’ve never talked much about her father.”
“Don’t delay too long and don’t feel guilty that you didn’t look for him. You weren’t the one who took off for parts unknown.”
Lauren’s words struck Cate as the truth. On graduation day the well of anger and hurt. Today, tendrils of guilt entered her thoughts. She had let him go and hadn’t tried to let him know about their daughter. “Do you want to come in?”
“I can’t. On the way here Johnny fell asleep. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You did dash off. See you Monday. Have you found anyone to watch Maddie?”
“Your father-in-law enrolled her at the Community Center.”
“Liz’s boys are there as are many children whose parents work at the hospital.”
After Lauren drove away, Cate made a green bean and tuna salad for dinner. At five she called Maddie inside. Once they finished dinner, they unpacked their suitcases.
With this done Cate popped a bag of corn and they watched the latest animated feature. When the movie ended Maddie yawned. “Upstairs. Bath and bed.”
‘I had fun today. Thank you for the swing set. Johnny and the twins really liked it.” She ran off.
A short time later, Cate followed. She kissed her daughter good night. As she walked downstairs she felt thankful. Her daughter hadn’t asked about Rick.
She carried a glass of iced tea outside and sat on the swing. The moon shone brightly. As she gently rocked, she saw a car parked in Rick’s driveway. Before long she had to face him and have that talk with Maddie. She couldn’t allow anger to color either conversation. Hopefully she would find the right words.



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Thursday, July 12, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene The Gemini Sagittarius Connection #MFRWauthor #BWLPublishing #romance #medical


"Mom, help," Brandon yelled.
     Liz grabbed one of the paper bags he held and reached for the other. "Where's your brother?"
     He shrugged. "Around."
     "Justin. Come help unload the trunk." She carried the bags toward the house. Brandon followed with his backpack and her overnight case. "Take them upstairs."
     As she passed the living room to enter the hall beside the stairs, her father-in-law sat up. "I can help you with those."
     "You could track Justin down."
     "Impossible. He's so like Derek was. Never could find that boy when there was work to be done."
She wished he would stop comparing Justin to his father. That seemed to give Justin license to behave erratically. The constant comparison also hurt Brandon. Still, she was fortunate to have Pop's help with the boys. Working would have been nearly impossible if he hadn't moved in and taken over the child care.
     Liz put the bags on the counter and unpacked the tea kettle and a canister of sugar. After putting water to heat, she checked the refrigerator. Milk, butter, and eggs stood on the shelves. In the freezer, the ice bin was full, and two bags of ice lay on the lower shelf. Thanks, Laurel, she thought.
     She looked around the room and admired the efficient use of space and the features she hadn't found in an apartment kitchen. The counters were marble with streaks of green that were echoed in the painted walls and the curtains. The stove had double ovens and a rotisserie. A microwave hung beneath one of the green cabinets. The large window above the sink overlooked the backyard.
     Justin emerged from the basement. "Mom, there's a big freezer down there with food and ice cream. Can I have some?"
     She handed him an orange. "Here . . . . It's good for you."
     "Ice cream tastes better. One for Bran." She tossed him a second, and he ran off.
     By the time she had two pitchers of lemonade and two of iced tea cooling in the refrigerator, the first of her guests arrived. Laurel strode into the kitchen. Her long brown braid slapped against her back. "Left Johnny with your boys. Did you find the stuff in the freezer?"
     "Justin did." Liz hugged her friend. "You're looking good. Marriage must agree."
     "Sure does." Laurel stepped back. "Like the curls.Reminds me of Megan's."
     "Unlike hers, mine are induced. Decided a new job deserved a new style." She reached for two glasses. "About the food. You didn't have to. I plan to shop tomorrow."
     "Welcoming present."
     "Sorry I missed the wedding."
     "So am I, but I didn't want to give Alex a chance to change his mind. Was a small simple ceremony. Sue Lee came. She won Johnny's heart."
Liz raised an eyebrow. "She the next recruit?"
     Laurel laughed. "Why not? Eastlake needs a good nurse manager for Peds."
     "Will she come? Isn't she working toward becoming a pediatric nurse practitioner?"
     "Shouldn't keep her from being nurse manager. I've enrolled for my Master's, and Jen's nearly done."
     "The Grantley gang rules."
     "Where else can you find the best nurses? Our clinical group took top honors."
     "Liz, where are you?" Megan called.
     "In the kitchen."
      Moments later, Megan rushed in and nearly knocked Liz down. "It's good to see you again."
     Liz laughed. "Hasn't been that long." Her friend's blonde curls always made her think of dandelions.
     "Saw the boys. They've grown. Eric and Alex are organizing the unloading."
     "Where's Jenessa?" Liz asked.
     "Where else but outside trying to take charge?" Megan said.
     Liz groaned. "Let's go before she accuses us of slacking off." She headed down the hall, and the others followed.
     "Glad to see you've decided to work." Jenessa stood with her hands on her hips. "Welcome. Eric and Alex are in the truck."
     "Then let's begin," Liz said.
     With laughter and teasing, the truck was soon unloaded, and the boxes and few pieces of furniture were delivered to the rooms where they belonged. "Let's have a competition," Jenessa said. "Laurel and Alex can have the kitchen. Eric and I will take the living and dining rooms. Megan, you and Liz can work in the study. The first group to empty their boxes gets a prize."
     Justin bolted up the stairs. "Bran, Johnny, let's do our room and the bathroom stuff. What's the prize?"
     "I'll think of something. Eric, help."
     He laughed. "Was your idea."
     Megan joined Liz in the study. She looked at the boxes. "These all books? I suppose you want them in alphabetical order."
     "Why? On the shelves is fine. This is a competition, remember."
   Megan ripped open a box. "Mysteries, science fiction, fantasy, romance. When do you find the time?"
     "Little or no social life. The job and the boys take most of my time. These represent my escape."
     "What about yourself? Love . . . romance?"
     "No time."
     Megan grinned. "Invited my dad to come and help. He turned me down."
     A chill rolled along Liz's spine. Did Megan suspect the infatuation? Did her friend have matchmaking in mind? An impossible mission. Liz recalled the day of her interview and Laurel's housewarming. Jeff Carter had been completely uninterested. "A wise choice on his part." She emptied a box of nursing texts and opened a second.
     "Probably a good thing for us. He was in a foul mood."
     Liz frowned. "Why?"
     "A med error on one of his patients." Megan shoved books on a shelf. "Your new unit is a mess. Four nurse managers in three years. There’s been some resistance to having computers. Your unit is the last one. Hope you're not going to throw up your hands."
     "Does it look like I plan to leave in a hurry? As for the computers I’ll push for them to arrive." She placed two thick medical texts on the oak desk that had been her father's. She was glad Dr. Carter had opted out. Monday would be soon enough to face him.


My Places

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Thursday, June 28, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene The Aries Libra Connection #MFRWauthor #BWL Publishing #Medical #nurses #romance


The heat of the August sun caused a trickle of sweat to run down Jenessa’s back. As she threw her practice pitches, she watched Sam Gray and a tall, blond man approach. He put a can on the grass. She felt his appraising stare and tamped an urge to ask what his problem was.
     “Play ball.” The home plate umpire’s call interrupted her thoughts. She stepped on the mound and prepared her first pitch.
     The first two innings were scoreless. She stepped to the plate in the bottom of the third. The first three pitches were high and wide. “Put one across.”
     The pitcher hurled. Jenessa tapped a liner off the end of the bat. The opposing pitcher bobbled the ball. Jenessa streaked past first and dove for second.
     “Out.”
     She bounced to her feet. “You’re blind. I was safe.”
     “Out,” he repeated.
     Megan, he’s not for me, she thought. As she walked away, she dusted her shirt. Her braid slapped against her back. A few feet from first base, she turned. “Safe.”
     For a moment, she thought he intended to continue the discussion. She felt his gaze on her back and grinned. Sparring with him at the bargaining table could be fun.
     In the seventh and final inning, the other team scored two runs. Jenessa rallied her team. “We can’t let them win. Nan, Simone, just get on and I’ll bring you in.”
     They walked. She strode to the plate and connected with the first pitch. The ball soared over the heads of the outfielders. She trotted past first. “I was safe.”

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Thursday, June 21, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene The Amber Chronicles by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #BWLpublishing #fantasy #shortstories


Emme felt the call in every cell of her body. Resisting made every inch of her skin itch. The call spread to her muscles and they burned. Her bones ached. With tears dripping down her face, she fought until her head throbbed. If she didn’t’ move she feared the center where her powers lodged would ravel. Would the end of her being a witch be her punishment?
     She rose and made her way along the dark tunnel using her fingertips to guide her path through the unlit area.
     When she reached the stairs the pain eased though she moved like a wizened crone.  Steadily she made her way to the throne room where her parents waited. The moment she knelt before the pair the remnants of the pain vanished. Anger pounded as steadily as the beating of her heart.
     Emma raised her head. “I did what I needed to do. He chose her when he should have been mine.”
     Ludena nodded. “He was defective. Like the three before him he chose your sister for her weaker power. If you had searched his mind the way you should have you would have seen and rejected him allowing us to summon another.”
     “There were no more.”
     “Not here.”
     “He was my last chance for love. There will never be a man who loves me.”
     Soldar rested his hands on his thighs. “You are our oldest. In you the power to maintain the world is strong. You are the heir but you let envy, jealousy and anger rule.”
     Emme started to rise but her father gestured her to remain on her knees. "So this world called Amber will die when you and mother fade. What about the people?”
     “As yet they are no concern of yours,” Ludena said. “The punishment for what you have done is banishment. There are lessons you must learn and we send you to a place where they may be learned.”
     “You must conquer your anger,” Soldar said. “Anger has been your downfall. Arrogance is another fault. You must learn to give and not to take. You must realize the meaning of duty.”
     He was right. Emme knew she had used anger as a way of dealing with her sisters. Anger was her friend and how she acted. How could someone change their nature?
     Ludena nodded. “You embrace envy and jealousy as though they were your chosen companions. Such emotions do not a good ruler make.”
     Her father nodded in agreement. “So we must send you away until you learn.”
     For the first time since her summons Emme met their gazes. “Where?”
     “To another world,” Ludena said.
     “I don’t want to go. All I want is a prince to love me.” Anger filled Emme’s voice.
Her father left his chair. “To love you. What about finding a prince you can love?”
“If he loves me I’m sure in time I’ll learn to love him.”
     Ludena shook her head. “To love another doesn’t necessarily mean he will love you. Haven’t you seen what holding yourself aloof has done? You must learn to give.”
     Soldar nodded. “Loving another may mean letting him go.”
     “Love cannot be demanded or commanded.” Ludena’s gaze turned to her spouse.
     In her father’s gaze, Emme saw something that raised envy in her thoughts. Would a man ever look at her with such emotion in his eyes? What she saw in her mother’s confused her. The same light shone there.
     She sighed. “You ask the impossible.”
     “You are a powerful witch,” Ludena said. “Impossible is not a word you should use.” She turned to Soldar. “The time has come.”
     Her parents walked to where she stood. “This is your fate. You leave this world called Amber to seek your love. Every hundred years a portal will open.”
     “What is this portal?”
     “The way to another world,” Ludena said. “If you enter the amber orb of the day of the summer solstice when the moon is full in company with your love, you will return here.”
     Soldar nodded. “If the chosen prince enters alone, the portal will take him to a companion world.”
     “Is there no other way?”
     “Finding the man you love and who loves you is the answer.”
     “As the years pass and I fail will I forget my purpose?” Emme asked.
     “You will remember,” Ludena said.
     “I pray you learn the meaning of love. I pray you find your prince. And if you discover how to love and be loved during one of your awakenings, you can return to the Amber World.” Soldar clasped Ludena’s hand.
     Emme opened her mouth to protest. Her throat muscles tightened making speech impossible.
     Her mother handed her the amber orb. “Take this. Use the power of the gem wisely.”
Emme grasped the gem in her hands. A golden haze encased her. The glow darkened until her parents and the throne room vanished.


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Thursday, June 14, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene - Sanctuary's Ending - Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #BWLLTD #fantasy


On the late afternoon of the day of the spring equinox celebration, Deborah sat on the women’s side of the meeting house with the Healers. The hardness of the stone bench made her wish for a cushion. She shifted so she could see the open wooden doors. Would her twin arrive in time? Would he join those who had been his childhood friends?
Ruth sat with the Sensitives. Deborah saw her friend’s ashen skin and the way she bit her lower lip. Deborah wished they sat together for courage and reassurance. The roiling meotions in of the gathered people must responsible for Ruth’s tensions. 
She turned from the door and glanced at the platform where the Singers and Elders sat. She spotted Gabriel with the Singers and Paul on a chair beside the eleven older men. In the center of the stage the Seat of Judgment stood beneath the round glass window.
Where was her brother? He had to arrive. There were few reasons any man, woman or child could be absent from one of the four ceremonies. Punishments were always meted out. A night in the stocks could be ordered or banishment with a stoning was also possible.
Paul had vowed they would leave the community without her twin. Could they survive without someone used to living away from the village and their sheltered houses? Her fingers tightened into fists as a frission of fear walked her spine. What if Paul had been mistaken? What if an accident had prevented David’s arrival?
Deborah turned her head toward the door. Her gaze met the icy blue stare of Paul’s older brother. In that instant she saw lust and anger. Her gut lurched. He would be glad if her brother failed to arrive. Elder Jeremiah’s older son had hated David and would have used his position as Teacher to somehow undermine the testing process.
The first peal of the summoning bell rang loud. David, where are you? She tried to  reach him on the long unused connection of their childhood. She failed.

MY PLACES:



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Thursday, June 7, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene - Healwoman #MFRWauthor #BooksWeLoveLTD #Fantasy #romance #healing #magic


Ulrica counted the chimes.  When the fifth sounded, she stared at the door of her suite.  Her muscles felt like taut wire cords.  Memories of the many times she’d contended with her sister roiled in her thoughts.  The only clear victory Ulrica could remember was the day their aunt had chosen her to enter the temple.  Even that day had been tainted.            
Bodlesa had craved the position as the Voice of Midra in Keltoi.  Ulrica stroked the scar that ran from her shoulder to the wrist.  On the day she’d left the megara for the temple, Bodlesa’s anger had changed to blind fury.  One slash of her knife had nearly cost Ulrica her life.
The door opened and crashed against the wall.  Bodlesa stalked into the room.  “I am here.  Why have you chosen to raise the misbegotten from her lowly place?”
“She is of our clan and your get.  Every year, the number of girls suitable to serve Midra dwindle.  There is no other of our clan who is suitable.  The temples of the other nomes are in ruins.  The priestesses hide.  The priests of Midran clamp tighter bonds on all women.”
“Norna isn’t pure.  Though her father was Keltoi, he denied his clan to walk in Midran’s way.  I brought the girl to serve you as a drab.”
“Your own daughter?  If you do this, who will become my heir?”
“Britha.”
Ulrica laughed.  “Will Prasutus let her go?  Though I don’t live in the megara, I know what happens there.  These days, she’s his favorite bedmate.  If he gets a son from her, trouble will flare.”
“She has left the nome but I can call her back.”
“There is another reason she is unsuitable.  Though she wears our clan’s stripes, she’s not of pure lineage.  Her grandfather was from Incal.  Norna’s line is pure.  I will have her.”
Bodlesa prowled the room.  Her braid switched like the tail of an enraged firelion.  “Prasutus wants her.  If she stays in the drab’s quarters of the megara, he will have her.  He could even come here and take her.”
“If she were my heir, he wouldn’t dare.”
“I caught her trying to flee the nome.  She wanted to go to the Healwomen.”
Ulrica spat.  “Those abominations.  Once they served Midra, but they have turned their faces from Her.  They say they serve the god and goddess the way all priestesses and priests once did.”
Bodlesa laughed.  “Do you fear them?  The priests use them for their healing skills and for the sons they birth.”  She waved her hand.  “I have set a plan in motion.  Britha joins them to sow discord in their ranks.”
Ulrica’s hands fisted.  “Have you trained your daughter to do the same in the temple?”
Bodlesa scowled.  “Trained her?  I have had nothing to do with the girl.  I was but fourteen when I birthed her.  That Healwoman Mabe gave the infant to a drab.  Norna has learned to labor like the women who cook, scrub and grub in the earth.  ’Tis said she has a way with beasts.”
“And she can hate.  Think carefully about your choice.  Have you no love for her?”
“I didn’t choose to give her life.  I was bedazzled by a handsome face and a well-formed body.”  She moistened her lips.  “’Twas a challenge to tempt him.  He was virile and like a drug.  To my regret, I bore the fruit of his passion.”
Ulrica stared at the wall.  In that pairing, Bodlesa had been the aggressor.  Her lust for the Militos subaltern had been the talk of the megara.  “And he refused to put his desire for the priesthood aside.  For that reason, you deny her.”
“So does her father.”
“Does he even know he has a daughter?”
Bodlesa laughed.  “Why would I send the news to him?  Will you accept her as a drab?  Otherwise, she dies.”
“I’ll ask Midra to guide my decision.  Once the evening meal ends, I’ll go to the chapel and seek her guidance.  Will you accept Her command?”
Bodlesa’s smile failed to erase the ice in her eyes.  “Hers, not yours.”
Ulrica hid her own smile.  Her twin was a fool.  If not Norna, I will have my heir.
The cup is prepared.  “Come to the chapel after the curfew bell.”


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Thursday, May 31, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene - Moon Summoned #MFRWauthor #Books We Love LTD #Fantasy #Sword #Sorcery


New Moon

The Seat of Judgment

Fighting tears, Catherine Wheeler slumped on a bench at the end of the hospital corridor. The smell of disinfectant mingled with the odors of human suffering, fear and death. Ever since the young doctor had come to her husband’s room and pronounced Tommy dead, she’d felt like a ship torn from its moorings. She glanced at the wall where peeling green paint told of age and neglect. Place is old, like me, she thought.
The elevator creaked to a halt and the doors opened. A gurney with high sides and a dark cover emerged. As two grim men pushed the cart past her, the wheels squealed.
Though she’d told the nurse she was leaving, Catherine had needed to wait until her husband left the unit. Pain like the gnawing of a mouse bit into her heart and brought waves of dizziness.
The pain faded. The squeaking gurney returned. She half-rose and sank back. Why couldn’t she take this final ride with him?
The rules, she thought. The unfairness of a system that kept people from their dead angered her. She should have been the one to wash his body and to close his eyes. A momentary desire to challenge the rule the way she’d fought other edicts years ago arose. But she was too old, too tired.
She sucked in a shuddering breath and watched the gurney disappear behind the closing elevator doors. Tommy had been four years her senior and she was glad he’d gone before her. He would have been lost without her, just as she would be without him. Sixty-three years of living with the same man made thoughts of being alone frightening. He’d been her life. Together they’d faced problems and found solutions. With a sigh she rose and pressed for the elevator.
Outside the humid air, redolent with exhaust fumes and the stench of garbage, made her cough. Pain circled her heart. Before crossing the street to reach the bus stop, she paused to catch her breath. When her strength returned she plodded to the other side. There she glanced at a display of bears in a toy store window.
The images wavered. She pressed her hands against the glass. Three dolls formed a tableau against a painted backdrop showing a mountain lake and a pale moon in a dark sky. The center figure captured her attention. The doll wore a deep amber robe and golden brown boots. In her hand, she held a staff topped by an amber crystal.
The need to hold the doll burned as hot as the pain in her chest. As she opened the shop door, a bell tinkled. The young woman behind the counter looked up, then began buffing her nails again.
Catherine lifted the doll from the case. Why this urgent wish to possess this doll? She had no child or grandchild. Pain, agonizing and exquisite, exploded in her chest. She crumpled to the floor.
The clerk jumped to her feet. Why had the old biddy wandered in? The young woman knelt beside old lady. “Hey, are you all right? When there was no answer, she searched for a pulse. Her eyes widened. The woman was dead.
She reached for the phone and called for an ambulance. Had the old lady taken something from the window? A check of the bears showed none were missing.
Moments later the ambulance arrived.

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Thursday, May 24, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene - Lines of Fire #MFRWauthor #Books We Love #fantasy #Romance #swords



The challenge match had lasted longer than Alric thought possible. His opponent, one of the desert riders, had been chosen by his clan for the duel. Only one man could win. If Alric bested the other fighter, the local farmers would be spared raids on their crops and herds by the nomad band comprised of rebels against the laws of Investia. If he lost the raids would continue until another patrol arrived. Alric concentrated on the lines of fire flowing over the other man’s skin.
The younger man was agile and talented with the sword and knife. His hair, bleached by the sun, shone red-gold in the morning light. The lines flowed in changing scarlet patterns over his arms and bare chest.
Alric’s opponent’s quick responses to each move made him believe the young man read the lines, too. Someone had to make a mistake before they collapsed.
Sweat coated Alric’s skin. An occasional droplet stung his eyes and blurred his vision. The desert rider showed the same physical reactions. Exhaustion threatened Alric’s control. Then he found an opening. The lines of fire on the younger man’s sword hand faltered.
Alric lunged and caught the other sword sending the blade sailing through the air. He followed with a sweep of his leg. The desert rider sprawled on the ground. Alric pressed his knife against the man’s pulsing neck vein.
“Yield,” he demanded.
“Yielded.” The young man grinned. “Good fight. I’m Jens.”
“Alric.”
Jens turned to the gathered clansmen and the crowd of cheering farmers. “Trade is good unless you try to cheat. We have wool, silver, gold, some gemstones, herbs and spices. We need grain, produce, honey and beer.”
“Do you have salt among the spices?” a man asked.
“We do.”
Moments later someone tapped a keg of beer. Alric opted for a mug of water. Once the formalities ended he searched the crowd for his current bondmate. Before he found her, Jens beckoned. They drew apart from the celebrating clan and villagers.
“I gather you see the lines of fire,” Jens said.
Alric glanced around to make sure no one stood close enough to hear. “It is said only those who are heart bound can see them. Among the Defenders I do not speak of my ability to anyone other than those I trust.”
“Why? I have no bondmate and my friends know of my ability. That’s why I’m chosen for these duels. You’re my first loss.”
Alric moved further from the celebration. “Seeing the lines is one of the reasons our forefathers used the mists to come to this land. Sorcerers sought to use their talents for evil.”
“An old wives’ tale I’ve often heard from the elderly riders.”
“Perhaps. I’m a Defender as I promised my father I would become. I believe what he told me when I was growing up.”
Jens frowned. “How fortunate to have known your father. As a small child I lived in the Defenders Hall. My mother died so I was fostered to a shepherd’s family when I was three. Soon as I could I ran. A penned life isn’t for me.”
Alric swallowed. “Did you have a sister?”
Jens shrugged. “My memories of the Defenders Hall are poor. What I remember is a tall man dragging me away and riding with him for days.”
Alric wished the younger man had more memories but he feared he would never know if this young man was his lost brother. “You might consider coming with our patrol. Though you’re older than most of the trainees, your skill would let you advance rapidly.”
Jens laughed. “You could leave the Defenders behind and join this clan of riders. We would welcome a man with your skills. You and I could be invincible as a team at the games.”
Alric studied the ground. There were times when he dreamed of leaving the Defenders. Some of the twelve years hadn’t been pleasant, especially when the leader placed obstacles in his way. He’d leaped over those stumbling blocks and succeeded. The promise he’d made to his father ruled his life.
Alric turned away and saw his bondmate waving. “I must go. Good riding and successful dueling.”
“Same.”
When Alric strode away from the younger man he scowled. The connection to Jens had been deeper than usual. Though the younger man had no memories of the past, he could be one of the missing sibs. In an instant Alric decided when he returned to the Hall he would search the Archives to see if the records held any information about his family.
His bondmate led him away from the crowd. “Where is the rest of the patrol?” he asked.
“I told them to head out and you would catch up.”
She wore no bracelet. A groan rumbled from his gut. Bracelets meant the bonding between mates stood. Since she had removed hers, that meant he’d been twice rejected. Once more and he would be banished from the Defenders. He opened the clasp on the brass one he wore.
“Seeks you won’t be returning with me.”
She stared at the ground. “I never wanted to be a Defender. I wanted to exchange bracelets with my childhood sweetheart. He’s here and wears no bracelet.”
With his thumbs, Alric tilted her head to see her expression. Though her decision was right for her, sadness shrouded his thoughts. “I wish you happiness.” He dropped the bracelet she had clasped on his wrist during the bonding ceremony into her hand. “Here’s your price.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to pay the fine. I never tried to see if our bond could last.”
“Neither did I.”
“You could have forced me to unite with you.”
Alric grimaced. “I wasn’t raised to grab what I wasn’t offered.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“The patrol has finished the rounds of the southern sector of Investia. The Day of Ingathering for the returning patrols is just weeks away. I’ll ride to the Defenders Hall and choose another mate.”
“I wish you luck.”
Alric walked away. He touched the bracelet hidden beneath his shirt. His father had given him the unique piece just before his death. Perhaps this time he would find his heart bound mate.

BUY MARK



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Thursday, May 17, 2018

Thursday's Third Scene from Gemstones #MFRWauthor #Books We Love LTD #historical #Regency


     The tapping at her bedroom door roused Aldora, Dowager Countess of Denmere, from a reverie.  For a moment, she felt the strange blend of sorrow and joy she’d felt when she’d read the letter from Ian Grey.  She reached for a woolen wrapper.  Moonlight shimmered around the edges of the partially open draperies and sent a path of light to the door.  She turned the knob.
     Greene, the elderly butler, stood in the hall.  “My lady, the Earl has arrived.  He’s supping in the library.”
     “Thank you.”
     “Do you wish me to wait and go down with you?”
     She shook her head.  With too few servants remaining at the manor house, the stoop-shouldered man did more than his share of work.  “There’s no need.  Go to your bed.”
     After he left, she lit a taper and picked up the letter.  Before leaving the room, she read the words again.  This time, she held her tears inside.  If Drew saw she’d been weeping, he would find a way to blame himself.  A habit she believed stemmed from the way his father had heaped the coals of his own failures on Drew’s head.
     Holding the candlestick high, she descended the broad and curving staircase.  The study door was closed.  She tapped lightly.
     Drew stood behind a battered desk and held his hands toward the flames in the fireplace.  Light from candles on the mantelpiece made his hair appear as black as lacquered ware from the Orient.  His gray jacket molded the muscles grown firm from his labor on the estates these past two years.
     She crossed the room.  He turned.  His eyes, the color of fine Persian turquoise, showed concern.  “Aunt Aldora, are you all right?”
     The unofficial title he’d bestowed on her years ago brought a rush of warmth and love.  She placed the candle on the desk.  “I never meant to give you fright, but I received a letter --”
     “Demanding payment of yet another debt we have no way to prove is false.”  His hands tightened on her shoulders.  “Damn him for leaving you in such a state.”
     Aldora stepped away.  “The letter concerns another matter.”
     “And that is?”
     “Sorrow and hope.”
     He slumped on a chair behind the battered desk he’d brought from the estate manager’s office.  For years until it had been sold, a magnificent oak piece had graced the room.  “Whatever do you mean?”
     She opened the letter.  “This is from Duncan Gordon of India.  He rescued Alice and married her.  Drew, I have three granddaughters.”  Joy radiated from her eyes and filled her voice.
     “How do you know this isn’t a trick to foist some merchant’s chit on you so they can be presented to the ton?  News of your daughter’s flight were wide-spread.”
     She shook her head.  “He mentions things only Alice knew.  And he sent me this.”  She held a locket.  “I gave it to her on her twelfth birthday.  She always wore it.”
     “And now this merchant sends his daughters so you can bear the expense of them.  How, when we can barely feed and clothe ourselves.”  He scowled.
     “Why are you so cynical?  My son-in-law wants his daughters away from India.  He suggests you marry the eldest girl and become guardian of the younger ones.  They stand to have substantial fortunes.”
     Drew walked to the window that looked into the rear courtyard of the H-shaped house.  He pulled aside the musty draperies and stared at the night sky.  What else could he be but cynical?  He had land he couldn’t sell, houses he couldn’t repair, and people dependent on him he couldn’t help.
     Had Duncan Gordon married Aldora’s daughter?  How could he be sure the girls were what they said?
     “Perhaps he recently learned Alice is the daughter of an earl and wishes to use your position to see her daughters marry well.”
     “I don’t believe that’s the reason.  With the dowries mentioned in the letters, the girls can marry for love.”
     “Love is a dream.”  The words emerged clipped and cold.  He’d never understood how such a vague emotion could turn a man or a woman into a fool.  He remembered the many times he’d heard his mother cry about her love for his father.  Then her love for another man had caused her to abandon her family.
     He heard the rustle of Aldora’s skirts and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender.  “He heard of Edgar’s death.  He knows about the mountain of debts and how hard you have worked to discharge them.”
     Drew turned.  “Then why hasn’t he written before?”
     “Before Alice died, he promised he would protect her daughters from their grandfather’s greed.  That need has passed.”
     The tears that glistened in her brown eyes brought an ache of sadness to Drew’s chest.  His questions about these girls didn’t matter.  To see Aldora smile and for her to have the comforts she deserved, he had been willing to marry an heiress.  Why not this one?
     He patted Aldora’s shoulder.  “Would this marriage please you?”
     “You know it would.”
     He nodded.  “I need an heiress, and if the marriage will bring you joy --”  He couldn’t say the words yet.
     She brushed her hand over brown hair that was liberally sprinkled with white.  “The directions for my son-in-law’s solicitor and business partner are in the letter.  You must write him at once.”
     He felt trapped by her enthusiasm.  “I’ll return to London tomorrow and seek him out.  Would you like to come with me?  I’m sure Tristan would be delighted to have your company.”
     She laughed.  “La, Drew, I doubt that rascal would want an old woman meddling in his affairs.”  She patted his cheek.  “There is much to do.”  Her radiant smile warmed him.  “Three granddaughters.  Nicola, Elizabeth and Margaret.  This is more than I dreamed.”
     For an instant, her smile faltered.  He knew she thought of her four daughters, each lost in some tragic way.
     “And you have me.”  His need to have her confirm his importance to her startled him.  He had neither right nor reason to feel threatened by these unknown chits.
     The brilliance returned to her smile.  “And you have brought me much joy.”  She lifted the candlestick.  “I’ll see you at breakfast.  Oh, Drew, I must make ready for my girls.”
     He felt a touch of regret that he hadn’t been the one to bring laughter to her voice.  “There is time.  The voyage from India is long.”
     “I know I must wait, but ‘twill be hard.”  She closed the door.
     He picked up the letter and read the contents.  Marriage to an heiress was the only way to restore the estates depleted by the late earl’s gambling.  Drew groaned.  He had all but agreed to the union.
     He crumpled the letter.  Marriage to one of the coming Season’s heiresses would never bring the weight he felt pressing on his chest.  He had intended his marriage to be one of convenience, providing a title for his wife and money and an heir for himself.  How could he have that kind of marriage with Nicola Gordon when she was Aldora’s granddaughter?
     The crumpled paper fell on the desk.  Aldora would expect him to love her granddaughter.  Love was an illusion.  He could never love any woman, even Nicola Gordon.  He would never allow her to have that power over him.  Never!

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BUY MARK
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