The Oak - A Grown Up Fairy Tale

By S.L. Dearing

On the outskirts of small French village lives Keitha Dubois, a beautiful young healer whose small cottage lies under the largest oak of the forest. Her quiet solitary life is filled with caring for the sick, and the everyday work of the age, with the occasional visits of good friends.

But this life is about to change.

The Huntsman. The Constable. The Stranger.

All vying for her love. Yet, who will she choose?

 For one wants to possess her, one to protect her and one to love her forever.

Between passion, devotion, and obsession, the crusade to win her heart begins with The Oak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SLDearing
• Release date: Apr 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386865612

Book preview

Dedication

To those who seek magic,

To those who seek love,

To those who seek adventure,

May you always find it.

The Oak

Live thy Life, Young and old,

Like yon oak, Bright in spring, Living gold;

Summer-rich Then; And then

Autumn-changed Soberer-hued, Gold again.

All his leaves Fall’n at length,

Look, he stands, Trunk and bough, Naked Strength.

~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

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Chapter 1

Justin Bonnay walked steadily through the forest, his eyes focused on the path before him. The darkness of the winter evening was silent, except for the loud crunching of snow under his heavy boots. Careful not to step on an ice patch, he shifted the heavy satchel over his shoulder and trudged forward. The cold sharp December air pinched the inside of his nostrils before he exhaled, his breath like tendrils of smoke surrounding his face.

An orange gleam appearing in the distance barely pierced the pines, elms and oaks that littered the forest. Finally breaking into the glade, Justin stared at the massive oak tree that sat in the center of the clearing, before moving forward. Easily one of the oldest trees in the forest, it towered above the pines and elms. Tangled branches desperately holding on to the last of its leaves, now brown and dry, twisting slightly in the winter breeze, while the thick trunk kept the aged guardian in place.

A small cottage sat tucked against the side at the base of the mighty oak. The wood of the dwelling blended in seamlessly with the bark of the tree, almost as if they were one. Warm light glowed invitingly through the small glass windows, and Justin could smell the wood burning in the fireplace, its gray smoke rising and spinning out of the stack, then disappearing into the winter sky. The scent of benzoin and sage drifted out to him as he approached the front of the dwelling.

Stomping on the porch to knock the snow from his feet, he raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before his fist could connect with the wood.

Justin! What are you doing all the way out here so late?

Hello, Keitha. My mother made a new batch of jams and loaves; she wanted me to deliver them tonight so they would be fresh.

Keitha Dubois laughed, then waved Justin inside. Come in. Would you like something warm? Some tea?

That would be nice, thank you, Justin said as he entered the small abode. Strolling across the room to the small kitchen, Justin placed the large satchel on the table and was promptly ushered out of the tiny area. He wandered back over to the door and removed his coat, scarf and hat, then stood near the fire warming himself as he watched the young woman move about the kitchen. Keitha placed the kettle on the cast iron stove, before adding more wood to the belly. Raising her arm, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed. Justin noted her long brown hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, yet several long tendrils of curls had escaped and fallen about her face.

Keitha turned toward him. I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here in the dark. It must be horribly cold out there.

It’s all right. You know how my mother can be; it was easier than waiting until morning. Besides, I haven’t seen you for several days, so this gave me an opportunity to check in on you and see how you’re doing.

You don’t have to check on me, old friend. You’re the constable now; you have other responsibilities besides the crazy hermit girl outside the walls.

Justin rubbed his hands together before stuffing them in his pockets, and strolling over to the stove. He shrugged at her as he leaned against the wall. You could always marry me and move to the village, then I wouldn’t have to check on you.

Keitha cocked an eyebrow at the handsome young man in front of her, a wry grin on her lips. "We’ve talked about this, Justin. I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I would make you a horrible wife, strange creature that I am."

Justin chuckled. "Lovely creature! And your pagan ways have never swayed my devotion to our friendship. You’ve helped so many people, most don’t really mind your ‘strange ways.’ "

You need to find a girl in the village to focus your attention on.

Shaking his head, Justin replied, They all pale in comparison. Plus, my mother has her heart set on you.

Stop it; she does not. Keitha turned away and untied the bag. Oh, Justin! Your mother did too much. She began to lift out jars of jam, potted meat, fruit and loaves of bread.

She worries about you out here by yourself, Keitha. A lot of us do.

I’ve been here my whole life, as you know. Besides, the forest takes care of me just as well as you and your mother do. Oh! I almost forgot...

Keitha moved to the large hutch in the sitting room and opened the doors. Inside, a multitude of jars and bottles with strange markings on them were lined up neatly. She moved her fingers lightly over each label as she mumbled to herself. Within the jars were dried plants, rocks, powders, and oils. Some containers held oddly-shaped items, which weren't easily recognized by the average individual. She took down several jars and quickly removed a portion of the contents, placing them in their own separate cloth bag before returning the container to its rightful place in storage.

Stepping back, Keitha gathered the small bundles and placed them in a satchel.

Could you please give these to Eveleen Rede? she asked, as she handed them to Justin.

Chuckling, Justin took the bag. I’m beginning to think I should've become a courier instead of a constable.

Oh, stop it! Keitha shook her head, her smile growing bigger as she moved back to the table.

Why are you sending her all this? he asked as he rolled them around in his hands.

I’ve been training her.

Justin glanced up at her. Why?

Well... You never know what could happen, so I feel someone other than myself should know how to heal. I've known Eveleen for a long time and I trust her. She certainly has a knack for healing, and she was interested in learning more.

Oh...

What?

Nothing. I just thought you might be moving away or something.

She laughed as she placed the gifts from Justin’s mother in the pantry, then shook her head. Not that I know of. This is my home, Justin, and I have no intention of leaving any time soon.

All right, just checking.

Keitha began to put away all the goods Justin had brought her. Once the last item was in its place, she collected a large cup, small strainer and a tin from the shelf and placed them on the table, resting the strainer on the lip of the cup and opening the tin. She scooped the tea into the mesh, before wandering to the stove and lifting the large kettle from the burner. Holding the pot above the cup, Keitha began to pour. As the bubbling liquid spilled over the leaves and bark, steam ascended from the void below. The dark amber water rose to the lip of the vessel, continuing to steep the rich woody tea.

I could have poured that for you, Justin told her.

Its fine, Keitha insisted as she returned the kettle to an unheated burner. She returned to the cups and removed the strainer, pressing out the delicious excess, while reaching for a small bowl of sugar, wherein she shoveled two heaping spoonfuls into the mug, before passing it to her friend.

Thank you. I do love your tea.

There's nothing that tastes quite like the acorns of my oak.

I noticed he’s holding on to quite a few of his leaves this winter.

Laughing, Keitha nodded. Yes, I was up there today. He isn’t letting them go.

You shouldn’t be climbing with all this ice. You could fall.

Sighing, Keitha rolled her eyes as she collected empty jars and tins, as well as a few small satchels, and placed them in the larger one Justin had brought with him.

Stop worrying so much. Maybe you need a dog.

What? Justin furrowed his brow in confusion.

You need something else to worry about besides me; and if you're not going to marry a girl in the village, maybe you need a pet.

Chuckling, Justin shook his head and blew on his amber drink before taking a sip. Mmmm, so good. Thank you.

You’re welcome. Come, let’s sit by the fire, and you can tell me what's been happening the last few days.

Moving into the main room, they found a comfortable spot to sit and began exchanging stories. After finishing his tea, Justin stood and stretched. It’s late, my friend. I need to be on my way back to the village.

Yes, you should. Please thank your mother for me. I’ve put her jars back in the satchel along with some tea. Keitha strolled into the kitchen and lifted the sack as Justin began to layer on his coat and scarf. He slipped the gloves back on his hands before taking it, now much lighter than when he arrived, from the woman standing before him.

Thank you again, Keitha. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I’ll see you