Just Jewell

By PJ Smith

Jewell's world consisted of the farm, her cruel aunt and a kind helper named Tegan until one day, the cat she thought dead at the hand of her cruel aunt returns, turning her life up-side-down. Suddenly, Jewell finds herself on the run from Darkness while discovering Fae are real, other realms exist, and her true identity has been kept hidden her entire life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: PJ Smith
• Release date: Feb 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463292983

Book preview

SOLVA

PROLOGUE

Where is she? he demanded the moment he burst through the door, startling the two others sitting in the room. Where is she? he desperately shouted this time, gasping for breath as panic and dread started to consume him.

Thomas, she’s fine. She’s sleeping…

Where is she? he demanded again. I have to see her!

He spun around, doing a quick scan of the room. Spotting the long, narrow hallway, Thomas raced forward, not listening to the others advising him to rest for a moment. For him, there would be no resting. Not until he could see her. See with his own eyes that she was safe.

The hallway consisted of three doors, one on the right and two on the left. The first door on the left was open, and a quick glance confirmed it was only a bathroom. Thomas paused in front of the closed door on the right, threw it open and short of taking in the surroundings, confirmed she was not there. Without closing the door, he swiftly moved on to the last door on the left, which was open slightly. Thomas paused. He could feel her.

Through the narrow space between the door and the frame, Thomas could see the room was softly lit. He placed his hand on the door and leaned his head against the frame, closing his eyes. Deep breath. She’s here. She’s safe.

His clothes were tattered from the recent battle, and his body was covered in dried sweat, dirt and blood from wounds long since healed. The palms of his hands ached from the explosions of Fire he wielded throughout the battle, and he was exhausted, barely able to stand on trembling legs that threatened to give out at any moment. But he knew he couldn’t rest until he saw them…or rather, saw her. After the battle, he rushed to get here, not pausing to rest or clean up. It was a ten-hour drive but he didn’t care; he knew he couldn’t rest until he saw her and made sure she was safe. Right now, she was all that mattered.

With a deep breath, he quietly pushed open the bedroom door and took a step into the room. The soft glow came from the night-light next to the bed where the children slept.

Thomas slowly let out the breath he was holding as he watched the little girl sleeping peacefully in the arms of her young warrior. She was holding a teddy bear close to her heart as the boy held her close to his, protectively, as if she were a precious gem the world was fighting over. The boy had always been like that with her, though, never realizing he really was holding a gem. He was still too young to fully understand. To him, she was his playmate…his best friend. He spent every minute of every day with her. From the minute he was awake until the time he had to go home and to bed he was with her: playing with her, watching her, protecting her. Most nights his parents had to drag him away from her kicking and screaming…and crying…They’d both cry. Neither of them realized the connection they had to each other, or at least the connection Thomas suspected they had.

Thomas closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He was exhausted and a headache was starting to set in. Corey, his healer, was already spent, he knew, from healing his wounds during the long ride down. He looked across the room again and stared at the precious girl. She was only four years old, barely four years old, and the little warrior holding her was only five. It wasn’t supposed to happen at such a young age. It wasn’t supposed to happen until they were older…old enough to understand how to control their powers. For her, old enough to understand the connection she would have with others like this boy…the pull to always be together. The little warrior had yet to learn things about himself as well…and he needed training. He’d be sent away for that, and Thomas frowned at the thought, knowing how the separation was going to devastate her. That was one reason it never happened this young, the bond Thomas was certain they shared and would share for life: they needed to grow up first and discover things about themselves, understand their purpose. The bond shouldn’t happen for many years, and yet Thomas knew in his heart it had. It was only obvious to him because he’d been through it himself many, many years ago. That connection…that pull…

Quietly Thomas backed out of the room, careful not to kick over the blocks that were stacked so neatly, the foundation for a ramp obviously being built for the little cars scattered on the floor nearby. He closed the door.

How is she? Corey asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

She was still so beautiful, even after all these years. She wore her hair short these days, but it was still full and thick…and soft. Even after the battle they’d just survived, her hair was perfect, though she’d probably argue otherwise. To Thomas, she was just as perfect as she had been the day they met when they were children, not much older than the two sleeping in the next room. He and Corey didn’t realize the connection they had then, not until they were older.

She’s sleeping soundly, Thomas replied.

When Corey slipped an arm around his waist, he pushed his hand through her hair, pulling her head in tight to his chest, and leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply; she smelled so good…like vanilla…she always smelled so good.

Jack and Suzanne said he hasn’t let her go since she arrived.

Thomas looked up and smiled warmly as Ollie joined them in the hall. He was tall, and like Corey, he now wore his hair short. There was a time when he wore it long like Thomas still wore his, back when they were children, but they weren’t friends back then…not yet at least. That time was so long ago, and Thomas barely remembered what it felt like not to have Ollie in his life. Almost as if he’d read that thought in Thomas’s mind, Ollie reached out with his long strong arms and put one around Thomas and one around Corey, and the three of them held each other in a loving embrace. It was the embrace of lifelong friends and companions and the love they felt for each other was deep and connected…and now so very broken and incomplete.

Once again Thomas felt tears well up in his eyes. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to stop them from spilling over, but the effort was wasted when the tears fell anyway. The pain he felt right now was unlike any pain he had ever felt in his entire life. How was he going to get through this? How would he live another day? But he had lived…three days now. Three days since it all began…three days since…

Thomas let out a long deep sigh. He, Corey and Ollie had survived three sunrises and sunsets…the last one not too long ago as they raced across Wyoming to get here…silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Yet as incomplete and empty as they felt now, they had survived. The three of them had survived.

Barely.

Slowly they loosened the hold they had on each other. Thomas looked at the faces of his dear friends. They’d been together so long. They were a part of each other but they would never be whole again; they would never be as complete as they had once been.

Thomas removed his arm from around Corey’s waist and looked at the gold band on his wrist where two emeralds now sat. Ollie and Corey looked down at the band as well, and neither of them tried to mask the tears that fell from their eyes. Corey reached out and ran her fingers lovingly over the emeralds.

I still feel them, Ollie said with sadness. Corey reached up and gently wiped his tears away.

Thomas nodded. They’re in here, he said, touching his heart.

With a deep sigh, Ollie squeezed his shoulders and rested his head on Thomas’s. Thomas’s arm was back around Corey now, and she buried her head in his chest once again, and the three of them stood that way for a long time, trying to find comfort in each other.

Thomas?

Thomas and his friends looked up as Jack and Suzanne approached.

Mae has arrived, Suzanne said softly.

He heard the growl from Ollie while at the same time Corey seemed to make a small gagging noise in her throat. Thomas just nodded and spoke the words that would hide the gold band on his wrist. Holding Corey’s and Ollie’s hands, he followed Jack and Suzanne down the hall and into the living room; he wasn’t eager to release his hold on either of them anytime soon, but when he saw his sister standing alone in the living room, he knew he’d release that hold long enough for an affectionate greeting with her. That was the goal anyway.

Mae looked well. Emotionless, as always.

Unlike her brother, she hid her sorrow from the others. Thomas knew she was in pain, she had to be…maybe…but she was a strong woman. She’d never been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. Surely she grieved, but she would only grieve alone and would never let anyone see the true pain she felt inside. If she actually did feel any pain.

Hello, Thomas, Mae said in her typical disapproving tone after briefly hugging her brother. The quick embrace only confirmed that after all these years, nothing had changed. She was still the stone-cold woman she’d always been. It was hard to believe they were related.

I’m glad you’re here, Thomas said, taking hold once again of Corey and Ollie and sitting between them on the couch. And as always, Mae shot them a disapproving look. After all these years, she still didn’t understand…She would never understand.

All of the arrangements have been made, she said.

Mae, are you sure about this? I mean, you have your own –

Mae raised her hand sharply to stop her brother from saying another word. I told you, Tommy, this is now my purpose. I will take over and finish what Anna started until it is time.

Thomas took a long deep breath, trying to find the strength to go on; her cold tone wasn’t helping the situation. Each minute was a struggle, but he had to go on. He had to find a way. He knew it would be slow, but it would get better…at least he hoped it would. The minutes would turn to hours, which would then turn to days, to weeks, to months, then years. For now, though, each minute was a struggle. He felt Ollie squeeze his hand, and that gesture alone gave him the strength he needed for the next minute of his life…maybe a few more after that with Ollie and Corey at his side.

Are we sure about this? Isn’t there another way? Corey asked hopefully.

Thomas shook his head slowly and turned to face her. We’ve talked about this. It’s the only way she’ll be safe. She can’t be protected here right now. We have to send her to Solva. They’ll never think to look.

The cover story is in place and the mask is slowly being released. We’ll be there, too, at least for a few years. She’ll be safe, Jack assured them.

I can visit – Before he could articulate his full thought, he was cut off by Ollie.

No, Tommy, you can’t. They’ll detect you the moment you cross over, and we can’t be there to protect you.

Tommy looked Ollie in the eyes. What he said was true. He couldn’t go there without being detected.

What he didn’t say but what those eyes said, those eyes he looked into so many times throughout the years, those whiskey-colored eyes said he couldn’t go there without being detected, at least not in this form. Ollie didn’t want Mae to know. He didn’t trust her. Didn’t like her. No, that wasn’t it.

He hated her.

Tommy didn’t blame him. The blame for the hate Ollie felt and Corey felt fell squarely on Mae’s shoulders.

You said she already showed signs of using two elements, Mae said.

I know, Thomas said. As much as I’d like to learn more about the other elements she can possibly command, I’m afraid now’s not the time. She’s too young. For now, we have to protect her, and the only way to do that is to hide her…from herself.

A slight gasp escaped Suzanne.

Are you going to suppress her abilities? She’s free to use her powers over there. If she holds more than one, that could be painful, Suzanne said with concern.

Thomas nodded in agreement. That’s why we’re not going to suppress her, we’re only going to mask her abilities…hide them and prevent her from discovering them herself.

What about the boy? Mae asked sharply.

Thomas watched Jack let out a deep breath. Thomas rubbed his face but couldn’t help the small grin that appeared.

Our son, Jack said, looking at his mate. Who knew you’d give birth to someone with his abilities. Suzanne looked back at him with nothing but love in her eyes. Jack turned to Mae and said, Don’t worry about him, Mae.

But he needs training. He can’t be around her until he’s had training, Mae complained. You need to just leave him here.

This time it was Thomas who put his hand up to stop Mae from saying anything more.

I’m sure he’ll get his training when the time comes. In the meantime, he’s not going to do anything that would endanger her. The land will be secure, and the masking is only an added layer of protection…more for my own peace of mind than anything. Mae opened her mouth to object, but Thomas continued. She loves him and it would break her heart to take him away. You should have seen how upset she was two weeks ago when Jack and Suzanne left to make preparations. No, he said, shaking his head. I’m not going to put her through that again.

He’ll be looking for her, though, Mae said, not with concern for the girl but with loathing for him.

He’s always looking for her Mae, replied Thomas. But he’ll be looking here. I don’t know, though, there was something different this time.

Mae scoffed at that remark.

No, Mae, it’s true. I noticed it, too, Tommy, Corey said. He was different. He just…

Stood there, Ollie said, finishing Corey’s thought. He did nothing. And the moment Air carried her away…

He left, too. He never leaves…not in the middle of a fight, said Corey.

They were right; he left. The battle continued without him. He certainly was prepared and had a secret weapon planted among them, waiting for the right time to attack, but for the first time Thomas could remember, he left in the middle of a battle. Something was different with him this time; something in the way he stood there…he hadn’t even protected himself from the blast that knocked him to the ground. He got up and just stood there, staring at the vacated space in front of him…something happened…

Where will you go, Tommy? Mae asked, pulling Thomas away from his thoughts. It was Ollie who responded.

We’ll be close to the crossover. We’re going to live in our place down in Larkspur, he said.

Oh, Ollie…Tommy…Corey, are you sure? asked Suzanne.

Tommy leaned forward and put his head in his hands. It had been their home for so many years. None of them ever questioned where they would live. It was their home, the five of them. They hadn’t been there in several years, since they’d taken up residence in Montana after the girl arrived suddenly during their camping vacation, but they were back in Colorado now…they were back home. The pull to live in Colorado now was strong. Thomas knew they were only grasping at the hope of feeling complete by living there again. Deep down inside, though, Thomas knew they would never feel complete again…never be whole.

Thomas leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, this time trying to squeeze back the tears that were about to fall. But like always, the tears fell anyway.

It was our home, he said in a rough voice once he finally found the strength to go on for the next few minutes. We have to be there. And we’ll be close to her. As close as we can get, anyway.

At the thought of her, Thomas stood suddenly and pulled Ollie and Corey up with him. He wanted to go see her again, and by the looks on their faces, he knew Ollie and Corey wanted to see her again, too. She had that effect on all of them. Without another word to the others, the three lifelong companions turned and walked silently back down the hall to the little warrior’s room. Quietly Thomas reached out and opened the door. He led Ollie and Corey into the room. He couldn’t help but chuckle as Ollie, who was normally so poised and graceful, stumbled over the cars scattered across the floor. When they were standing in front of the bed where she lay sleeping peacefully in her warrior’s arms, Thomas closed his eyes and let out a long sigh of relief.

Thomas knelt in front of her and gently brushed her hair away from her face. She had wild curly blond hair just like her father’s.

Gently he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked at him. While making no attempt to move away from the protective hold of her little warrior, she reached out with a tiny hand and gently touched the side of Thomas’s face. Thomas covered her hand with his and closed his eyes, absorbing the warmth of her touch on his face. The warming sensation spread throughout his face, and Thomas couldn’t help but give in to its soothing effects as it moved throughout his entire body. In that moment, Thomas finally realized that he would find the strength to go on. Dig deep. He would find his strength deep inside, and he would find his strength in her. He would go on…for her. She was his Light…she was his precious Jewell.

ONE

The Broom Incident

Jewell!

I really hate my name. Well, not really. I only hate it when she screeches it at me, which is often.

Jewell!

See what I mean?

It’s not a bad name. It’s kind of pretty, really. I may not be as worthy of the name as others would be, but it is mine.

Think about it.

Jewell.

What comes to mind? Shiny, brilliantly colored gems, right? Red, blue, green, purple. Not that I’d ever seen any, but Tegan told me all about them and how beautiful they were. He even went so far as to say that I reminded him of an opal, which when the light caught it just right contained a mixture of colors.

Opalescent is what he called it.

I was anything but shiny and brilliantly colored and definitely not opalescent, but it certainly made my name pretty.

JEWELL!

Maybe she dug up a treasure chest and is shouting her glee to the world while spinning around in a circle and dancing with joy? I whispered to Thomas. He raised his head and gave me a slow eye squint. He thought I was funny.

Thomas nudged my hand with his head. During the last screech my hand had stopped moving. Obviously, according to Thomas, I’d fallen off my duty of scratching his fluffy cheeks and dropped right into the classification of being a terrible human being. I resumed scratching his cheeks, and he slowly closed his eyes, immediately elevating my status among the human population in the world according to cats.

Thomas was such a pretty cat, with his soft dense coat of light, cream-colored fur and big blue eyes. The prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen. They were a stunning light blue that were so light, they looked almost like pieces of ice, but had a thin, dark blue outer ring. Amazing eyes. And his tail was long and just so fluffy. Gosh, I’d missed him. I don’t think I realized just how much I’d missed him until he showed up today.

Years.

It had been years since I saw him last. Not since the broom incident.

How did you get here? I’m sure your family is missing you, I said quietly as he turned slightly and raised his head so my scratches were now placed underneath his chin, clearly where he had an itch that needed to be scratched.

JEWELL TINSLEY!

Uh-oh. She brought out my last name. This could not be good.

I better go, I muttered, even though I didn’t want to leave him.

Thomas wasn’t my cat, not really. He used to come around all the time, but my aunt hated cats, so I’d have to slip outside to see him or sneak him into my room to play. I knew my aunt hated cats because every time she caught me with Thomas she would scream, Thomas! You know you shouldn’t be here. Get out!

That’s how I knew his name was Thomas. My aunt must have known his owners from the village, but whenever I asked who he belonged to, she’d change the subject and tell me to clean the floor. The last time I snuck him into my room…well, that was a mistake. A big mistake. No, it was worse than that.

It was colossal.

A colossal mistake.

It was a warm evening; the sun was just beginning to set when Thomas made his last appearance. The window was open, and I was sitting at my desk working on the hundreds of multiplication problems my aunt assigned that day. She was mad, which really was no surprise, since she always seemed to be mad at me for one thing or another, but this time, it made no sense. No sense at all. I guess that was really no surprise, either, since rarely did she do anything that made sense.

Today was a school day, which began at the crack of dawn after breakfast was consumed (oatmeal, I hated oatmeal but I ate it anyway with no complaints) and the floor was scrubbed (by me). The screened-in porch off the kitchen was dedicated to my studies, which was nice in the spring, summer and most of the fall but was miserable during the winter because my aunt didn’t want to waste any of the wood Tegan chopped for us by burning it in the woodstove to warm the porch. Even though Tegan said he’d just chop more wood if we ran out, which we never did because he chopped so much wood, the woodshed was always overflowing and wood would be stacked on the outside. Anyway, it was a warm day, and I was standing beside her next to the chalkboard. She had several multiplication problems written out, multi-digit multiplication problems, and she was explaining the process of multiplying and carrying digits. While she was explaining, I went ahead and solved the three problems she’d written on the chalkboard in front of me: 10 x 11; 12 x 13; 14 x 15. I will never, ever forget those three math problems.

It made sense. I don’t know why, it just did, as did everything she ever taught me. It didn’t matter what it was. Math. Science. Spelling. It all just made sense, all the time, and no matter the subject she was teaching, I understood and rarely got anything wrong. You’d think she’d be proud, wouldn’t you?

That day taught me three things.

One. Never begin working problems until the lesson was over and I was given specific instruction to begin.

Two. Never try to impress my aunt with my ability to quickly understand a lesson.

Three. Never, ever, EVER attempt to explain why I did the things I did because there would never be a right answer.

And four (I guess that day taught me four things), no matter what I did, no matter how astonishing the feat, my aunt would never be proud of me.

So I was working on the hundreds of multiplication problems assigned to me, trying to ignore the pain on my bottom from the whipping my display of knowledge had earned me that morning and trying to ignore the growling in my stomach from skipping both lunch and dinner (and not by choice, either). I paused from working 13 x 15 for the eighth time (and let me tell you, no matter how many times you work the problem and regardless if you work it as 13 x 15 or 15 x 13, the answer is 195, but if I were to just write the answer and not show the work, I’d probably end up with a hundred more of the same problem to work tomorrow) and contemplated sneaking into the kitchen for a bite of something to eat after I was certain my aunt had gone to bed, when I heard the kitty whisper.

As usual whenever I was in my room, Thomas would sit under my window in the bushes outside and meow softly until I opened the window. It was almost like he’d whisper. A kitty whisper.

When I heard it, I quietly slipped out of my chair and tiptoed over to the window.

Always, always, I’d tiptoe to the window. Always!

I was always quiet when moving around in my room because my aunt had supersensitive hearing, and if she heard me (which happened a lot), she’d come screeching into my room and lecture me about children being seen and not heard (although since I was in my room, I really wasn’t being seen), and then she’d proceed to lecture me on my selfishness and how I didn’t care about anyone other than myself with all the racket I was making (even though I was typically only sitting on my bed for fear of making the dreaded racket that seemed to bother her so much).

I let out a quiet sigh of relief that my window was already open and I wouldn’t have to risk my aunt hearing me slide it up. Without a word, I stuck my head out, but before I could even look down, Thomas crouched on his haunches, leapt to the windowsill and rubbed his fluffy cheek against mine.

I’ve played this memory over and over throughout the years, trying to remember if I somehow made a noise: a squeak, a small gasp or a quiet squeal of delight. I don’t remember making a sound (I was quite practiced at remaining silent no matter the situation), but looking back, I must have because it was the only way she would have known I was up to something in my room.

I wrapped my little arms around Thomas and lifted him off the ledge when my door was thrown back. Both Thomas and I watched as the door slammed against the wall and came flying back toward my aunt, just missing her face by an inch.

Darn.

What…, she started to say, then I saw her eyes flash the moment she spotted Thomas in my arms. Through gritted teeth she hissed, What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here!

I swear. SWEAR. It was almost like she was talking to someone she knew. Obviously, she knew Thomas because I’d been sneaking him into my room for years, but it was more like she was talking to someone she actually knew, like a person.

Thomas reared back in my arms and hissed.

Out of nowhere it seemed – although, I’m sure she brought it in with her because she was probably sweeping the kitchen floor, or the porch, or the small sitting room – she wielded a broom like an axe, and quicker than a flash, she brought that broom down on Thomas, knocking him out of my arms.

Like any cat, Thomas landed on his feet, but my aunt was fast and before either Thomas or I recovered from the first strike, she had already hit him right smack on top of his head. Thomas dropped to the ground like a sack of flour.

I screamed.

And the last thing I remember was kneeling down to get to Thomas.

My next memory was waking up in this room, and although it somewhat looked like my room, I knew this was not the room I was in during the broom incident. In fact, this wasn’t the same house, although it looked like the same house. She didn’t admit to it and acted like there was something wrong with my memory, but I knew there…was…not. I don’t know why, but my aunt lied to me about moving and tried to convince me there was something seriously wrong with my memory. No matter what she said, I knew we had moved. We were now living just outside of the village Santarek. She could deny it all she wanted, but I was smart and I knew where we lived. We had been living just east of the village Rubriksted, near the river Rubrik, and now we were here, living in the middle of the Southern Hemisphere. I knew this like I knew I would forever be missing part of my life due to something my aunt had done to me the day of the broom incident, and I hadn’t seen Thomas since.

Until today.

I started to stand up from the bale of hay I was sitting on, and the moment he felt my movement, Thomas jumped gracefully off my lap and onto the dirt floor of the barn. I watched as he proceeded to flop down in a sunbeam filtering in through the small open window up in the loft and stretch, doubling the normal length of his body. He twitched his tail as he happily enjoyed the sunbeam.

He was so cute.

Gosh, I’d missed him.

You stay here and stay hidden, I whispered. I don’t want her coming after you again with a broom.

She would, too, and it scared me to death to think about it. I don’t know how he survived, but I didn’t dwell on that because he was here now, and that’s all that mattered.

Thomas stood, gave me a slow blink, clearly telling me he agreed and didn’t want her coming after him again with a broom, and turned to wander off to the back of the barn. Just in the nick of time, too, as the barn door was pushed open so hard, it swung all the way around and back after hitting the wall with a loud, clanking thud. My aunt’s arm shot out to prevent the door from knocking back into her.

Darn.

Jewell! What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me calling you? Were you ignoring me? What have I told you about ignoring me?

There was no point in answering any of her questions. First, she didn’t take a breath between questions, so there wasn’t even time to answer. And second, there was no right answer. Nothing I said would calm the storm called Aunt Mae.

Aunt Mae was a short woman. Short but fierce. She had short, curly brown hair and blue eyes. Her face was heart shaped and honestly, if it weren’t set in a seemingly permanent scowl, she’d probably be pretty. I had never seen her smile. Something worked in her favor, though, because when her face relaxed from frowning (which wasn’t often), those frown lines disappeared and she looked a little bit younger.

Aunt Mae was dressed in her usual attire of brown long-sleeved dress that fell all the way to her ankles and buttoned up the back, white apron tied around her waist and brown lace-up boots.

Are you deaf, girl? Aunt Mae yelled as she marched toward me. Last I checked, you had two ears and they were in working order.

Brace. Here it comes.

SMACK!

Crap. That stung.

SMACK!

Two. SMACK! Three. I would have a mark on my check for sure this time.

Now get your ass to the house. I told you to scrub the floor this morning! But did you? Huh, did you?

Again, there was no point in answering because there was no right answer here. This was because the true answer was yes, I did scrub the floor, but it wouldn’t matter. She could have stood over me watching me scrub the floor and still say to my face that I hadn’t scrubbed the floor. No matter what I did, it was never enough. I was just thankful she hadn’t noticed I didn’t have any shoes on.

As if she read my mind, at that moment Aunt Mae looked down and her eyes grew wide and her already slightly red faced burned like embers. I swear I could see steam flowing from her ears.

This was going to be bad.

To the woodshed, Aunt Mae ordered through gritted teeth. Now!

• • • •

I was right. It was bad.

It was late (or early really, since the sky was just starting to show hints of the sunrise) and I should be asleep but I couldn’t sleep. First, the pain in my feet was excruciating. Aunt Mae said she was teaching me a lesson. According to Aunt Mae, young women did not run around barefoot. It was obscene. Proper young ladies wore stockings and boots, and their dresses came down to their ankles. Since the only dresses I had were ankle-length (all three of them), I at least got that part right. But the shoes…you’d think I’d have learned by now.

I don’t know what it was about shoes, but I hated wearing them. The stockings were heavy and ugly (but considering my dresses were ugly, too, I supposed they matched) and the thick leather of the shoes was so hot, especially in the middle of summer like it was now, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I honestly didn’t understand why going barefoot was such a terrible thing. It was, though. It was a big offense.

You would think having the bottoms of my feet whipped with a leather strap would teach me not to go barefoot, and for a while, it would. Once my feet healed, I’d put on the heavy stockings that came up to mid-thigh and were secured by garters, and I’d slide my feet into the boots that laced up my ankles and were at least two sizes too small.

I guess this was the real reason I was barefoot – my boots were too small. I tried to tell Aunt Mae they were too small. It was the strangest thing. Within the span of about a month, my foot grew and it grew so much, my shoes were too small. I had to bunch my toes as tight as I could and walk with a slight wobble just to wear them. I tried to tell Aunt Mae my boots were too small only to be told to stand up straight and walk like a proper young woman. She then proceeded to tell me I was selfish, inconsiderate and spoiled and that I thought money just grew on trees (I knew it didn’t because I’d been on the receiving end of that lecture all too often). She then promptly informed me since the boots I had were less than six months old, I was expected to take care of them for the next eighteen months and only then would we head into the village (me walk-wobbling, of course, because asking to ride a horse like Aunt Mae would be doing was frowned upon and punishable by further lectures about my selfishness) and purchase a new pair of boots that I would be expected to take care of for the next two years.

I was allowed to have a new pair of boots once every two years.

My boots were always, always, too small.

Jewell!

Crap.

Jewell!

It really was a pretty name.

JEWELL!

My door was thrown open and like the barn door yesterday, it flew back after bouncing off the wall. This time it came back so fast, it hit Aunt Mae in the shoulder (hee hee), just narrowly missing her face (darn). Aunt Mae threw her head back, scrunching the entire right side of her face. If Aunt Mae had a sense of humor, I would have laughed.

I did not laugh.

Didn’t even crack a smile.

Yep. I learned that lesson the hard way.

What did I tell you yesterday? You think you can just lounge around in bed all day?

Yet again, I didn’t answer. She wasn’t really looking for an answer, though. I mean really, lounging in bed all day? The sun was only now starting to come up. Unless she was blind (which she wasn’t) or had a really poor sense of time (which she didn’t), she was fully aware it was just before sunrise.

Er-er-er-er-errrrrrrrrrr. Er-er-er-er-errrrrrrrrrr.

Like clockwork, Doug, our rooster, alerted us to the sunrise. Aunt Mae ignored him.

Get your lazy ass up and out of that bed! I want that floor scrubbed, since you defiantly ignored your chores yesterday, Aunt Mae accusingly bellowed.

She was wrong. I actually scrubbed the floor yesterday. Twice. The second time after the trip to the woodshed, my feet crammed into thick stockings and boots two sizes too small with me on my hands and knees because my feet hurt so bad, I couldn’t even do my usual walk-wobble. I didn’t comment about this out loud, though. I also wisely chose not to comment about her use of the term ass and instead, started to slowly pull myself out of bed.

What are you doing? she shrieked, and I paused immediately. You’re in your nightclothes! Proper young women don’t flounce around half-naked. You wait until I leave the room to get up, and you cover yourself properly before showing yourself to anyone.

For fear of another whipping, this time on my backside, I didn’t risk a glance down at the full-length, long-sleeved, high-neck gown I was wearing. If Aunt Mae said I was half-naked, then I was half-naked.

Even though I wasn’t. Not even close.

Should I apologize, therefore admitting I was about to flounce around half-naked and risk the sarcasm she would surely perceive in my apology? And another trip to the woodshed? Or would it be better to remain quiet and just suck it up and accept the smack to my face that was surely coming. It would hurt. Would probably deepen the bruise from yesterday’s smacks that hurt all night. It’s also probably not a good idea to point out I had no more than leaned up on an elbow and raised my head from the pillow. If Aunt Mae said I was flouncing, then I was flouncing.

Obviously, Aunt Mae had better things to do than wait for my internal debate to be over and thankfully, she decided marching across my room to smack me upside the head was too much of a risk for her well-being. I mean, gosh, she might trip on a speck of dust. Who would want to risk that? Instead, she just yelled, Get up! and left my room only after slamming my door so hard, I winced.

Mew.

My head shot to the window. A kitty whisper.

Mew.

Another kitty whisper. My head swung around to the door, eyes wide, and I listened. I didn’t have the supersensitive hearing of Aunt Mae, but it was good enough that I’d hear her if her supersensitive hearing had picked up on the kitty whisper.

All’s quiet.

My head swung back to the window.

Mew.

I quickly but quietly pushed the covers back and swung my legs around, putting my feet to the floor to stand.

Big mistake.

The moment my feet hit the floor, I sucked in a slightly noisy breath through my teeth and fell back to the bed. A quick glance to the window showed Thomas already perched on the sill, staring intensely at my feet.

Did I mention how humanlike Thomas seemed at times?

With his usual grace and silent paws, Thomas dropped from the ledge onto the floor of my room and trotted over to the bed, never taking his eyes off my feet. He stopped in front of me and sniffed. He rubbed his cheek against my left foot before gently head-butting it, clearly indicating he want to see the bottom of my foot.

See? So human.

I raised my foot, and at first he looked curious as he started to examine the bottom of my foot, but then the curious look turned into something else. His eyes were now squinted, and his ears laid back and I swear, SWEAR he looked angry as he turned his gaze onto my face. He emitted a low growl and in the blink of an eye he was on the bed, on my lap, front paws up on my chest and shoulder, and he ever so softly rubbed the left side of my cheek. Then with his little scratchy tongue, he gave me a gentle kiss. It was so gentle, it didn’t hurt at all and let me tell you, the left side of my face was killing me. It was almost like he knew I had been hurt.

So human.

But then, Thomas did something that shocked me speechless. Something I could never have imagined even in my wildest dreams. Something that would change my life forever.

TWO

I’m in a Grey Sort of Mood Today

I stared silently and didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t even try to cover my half nakedness, although my gown was doing a really good job of that already.

A man was standing in my room.

A moment ago Thomas was gently kissing my cheek when suddenly he turned, leapt from the bed rather gracefully and landed on two feet. Two human feet. Bare feet. And those feet were attached to two long legs clad in some sort of dark blue heavy material. I looked up.

And up.

And up.

He was tall. Taller than Tegan. While his waist was narrow, his shoulders were broad, and he wore some sort of soft-looking, short-sleeved shirt that seemed to be all one piece and didn’t have any buttons or clasps. He had a thick strong neck, and at the base of his throat just visible above the small collared neckline of the shirt was a jewel. A brilliant green jewel. It looked like it was embedded in his neck.

Embedded in his neck. Not on a chain or a piece of leather. Embedded.

My line of sight moved upward a bit more and I took in his face. He was handsome, for a grown-up. Strong square jaw, with a small beard surrounding his mouth and chin. He had long blond wavy hair that fell to his shoulders, but it was his eyes that gave him away.

Stunning light blue, so light they almost looked like light blue pieces of chipped ice, and they were surrounded by a thin dark blue outer ring. Amazing eyes. Amazing eyes that clearly showed this handsome man standing in