Lindsey Renee Backen's Blog

Hi Readers!

My friend, Kaytlin Phillips is releasing the first book of her new trilogy! She has given me an exclusive interview for Ever Ink Press. If you’re curious about what it’s like to be a writer or if you’re looking for a clean book to purchase for a young person in your life, check out Emberling. Thanks, Katilyn for letting me feature you on my site and best of luck with your launch!

One never realizes how large their world is until they struggle to protect it.

Her entire life, Iya has been pursued by the Rangers, who despise her people for the fire in their veins. She has lost everything to their hatred, and now the fate of Uriu hangs in the treacherous balance. The Emberlings are dwindling in numbers, causing unleashed chaos that threatens not only Englewood but the Meadows of Harvanth as well.

Malcolm Cabe is fueled by hatred as he sets out to annihilate the fire-wielding Emberlings responsible for his father’s death. However, his mission takes an unexpected turn when he saves Iyana, a secretive girl haunted by a heartrending past.

Iya must keep her identity hidden from Malcolm and the other Rangers because if they discover who she is…death awaits her. But if the truth is never told how can they find the strength to forgive and unite? Decisions need to be made, and the wrong ones could lead to the destruction of all of Uriu.

Interview with Katilyn PhillipsHow do you find time to write?

I usually write at night before bed, so I make sure to carve out some time to do that. It's a priority for me and I've been doing it for so many years now it's hard for me to go to sleep without doing my nightly brain dump. XD

What is the best time of day for you to write?

Honestly, the afternoon is when I seem to get the most words down, but I don't always have time to write then because of work. So I make due where I can.

Where did your idea for Emberling come from?

I'm honestly not sure. An Emberling just showed up in my head, a person who has fire in their veins and that was running from a past that was in flames. The story changed shape over the years until it became the book I published! Originally the concept was much different, but also not as cool as the published concept.

How long did it take you to write Emberling?

It took me 6 months to write Emberling which is the fastest I've ever finished a project of that length. I was very happy with myself.

What was the most difficult part of writing Emberling?

Probably getting the climax right. It didn't want to happen. I wrote myself into a pit for a bit and had to edit and change some things to get myself out. I can't go into more detail because to say anything more would be a spoiler. XD

Did you self-publish or go the traditional publishing route and why?

I self-published. I looked into hybrid publishing, but it just didn't seem to be a good fit for me. I like having control of my books, being able to fix typos whenever, being able to order copies whenever, join giveaways, donate my profits, etc. It gives me freedom to publish on my own timeline as well and I appreciate that because deadlines aren't exactly my friends. XD

What important advice would you give a first-time author?

You don't have to be like everyone else. You don't have to write like them, outline like them, or even plot like they do. Find your own rhythm and voice, it might take time, but it will come. Don't box yourself in with rules. Let the words come and worry about rules later during the editing phase.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

When I was 14 and had finished my first novel, one that I co-wrote with my sisters. My dad encouraged us to start writing the story down, so we did and then next thing you know we all fell in love with writing. Once I had started putting words on the page I couldn't seem to stop. The worlds and stories just kept coming, and continue to come faster than I could ever write them. It's a bit overwhelming having an overactive imagination, but so much fun!

What are your favorite books to read?

Oh, so many! I love Fantasy and Suspense especially (which if you read Emberling you can tell because I wove some suspense into the fantasy). Some of my favorite books lately have been:

The Redwyn Chronicles by Madisyn Carlin

The Guild of Thieves by Jaiden Phillips

Frozen Secrets by Marisa Phillips

The Fireborn Epics by Gillian Bronte Adams

The Nightmare Virus by Nadine Brandes

And so many other books!

How important are book reviews?

Super important for the author and other readers. It lets people know where the book is something they will enjoy or not and lets the writer know what the reader enjoyed or didn't so they can work on it in future books. They are also super helpful in boosting sales because the more reviews a book has the more visibility it has as well. So for Indie authors that makes them especially important.

About the Author:

Kaytlin Phillips is a homeschool grad who spends her days praising her Savior, reading, writing, blogging, and annoying her sisters with random thoughts. She is the fifth child out of seven and resides in the Southern Appalachian foothills of Western North Carolina.

She believes in the power of stories and their ability to change lives. And when not writing stories of hope, purpose, and redemption, you can find Kayti (as everyone calls her) reading, hiking, or taking random pictures.

Author Links:

Linktree (Including all my links): https://linktr.ee/kaytlinphillips

Book Links:

Amazon Order Link: https://a.co/d/hZjoxPq

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/212035874-emberling

My Own Lion Encounter

My book, “They Watch Us Like the Lions” is officially available in all sorts of bookstores tomorrow, October 14, 2024!

But I have my own real-life lion story.

I was somewhere between the age of three and five when my mother decided to enrich our homeschooling experience by loading us up and taking us with a bunch of other homeschoolers to an exotic animal ranch. Like my character, Katie, I have always been small for my age. I’m now a grand total of five feet and one inch, so you can imagine how tall I was as a little tyke. (Think Oompa-Loompa, only cuter.)

We stood on the sidewalk, peering into tall chain link fence as the guide told us there was a lion in there. I did not see a lion. I scooted to the front of the group, tiptoeing to try to see over the foliage and the logs that weren’t much shorter than I was. Everyone began to see the lion and squeal, “Oh there he is!”

I did not. see. any. lion.

The guy grinned, pointing. “Here’s there, crouching down. He’s stalking something.”

I was getting mad. I was in the front, about four feet from the fence, with no one obstructing my view and I still could not see any lion. And then I did.

He was stalking something: me.

I’d barely glimpsed the tuff of tawny hair sticking up from behind that ginormous log before that lion sprang out and slammed against the chain-link fence with its paws outstretched, showing me an exclusive look at its full underbelly. The crashing sound was enormous. The lion was enormous.

Adding to my terror, at least four, if not six hands, grabbed me from behind. Two belonged to my mother. The others were other mothers. If you have never three homeschool mothers simultaneously rescue you by digging their fingers and nails into the soft portions of your shoulders and upper arms, let me tell you, it is not a sensation you will ever forget.

It’s one of the most vivid memories from my childhood, all senses squished into one moment when there was no lion, then a huge lion, accompanied by a crash from ahead and pain from behind, simultaneously with my feet flying off the ground. I didn’t know I was traveling to safety: I was convinced that pain was those giant claws, and this was the end of my very short life.

The guide thought it was hilarious.

He couldn’t stop laughing. I didn’t like him much after that. But after I calmed down and left that lion behind, I felt like the star of the field trip: the kid that almost got eaten.

Ironically, as a teenager, I gradually came to love the lion enclosure at the zoo—when the lion was properly kept behind clear sheets of material it couldn’t bust through.

So that’s my lion story. Neil’s lion story…well, you’ll find out within the pages of “They Watch Us Like the Lions!”

P. S. They Watch Us Like the Lions will be officially launching tomorrow, October 15! For the first week, readers should be able to purchase the ebook copy for 99 cents! Check out this link tomorrow to choose your favorite bookstore and make sure you’ve joined my email list to see all the perks going along with Launch Day!

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They Watch Us Like the Lions will be officially launching tomorrow, October 15! For the first week, readers should be able to purchase the ebook copy for 99 cents! Check out this link tomorrow to choose your favorite bookstore and make sure you’ve joined my email list to see all the perks going along with Launch Day!

Hi Readers!

My newest book, They Watch Us Like the Lions is coming out on October 15th.

But you want to know a secret? The book is going to be available for preordering! I would love it if you would purchase your copy ahead of time. Here’s why: 1. Because then you can be part of my giveaways and 2. Because you can help me do something I can’t do myself.

Here’s a trade secret. The Amazon algorithm falls in love with authors who sell lots of copies on the day a book is released. And if Barnes and Noble sells enough copies of any author’s books in their online store, they’ll stock it on their shelves. When you preorder a book, all of those sales register on the first day that the book is officially published. If there are a lot of sales and reviews, magic happens. If there aren’t, the algorithm loses interest and sweeps books off the most obscure corner it can find. That means that even if it is available online, most people who don’t know the author will never see it.

That is where books go to die.

But you can be the fairy godmother who can helps this book get to the ball by preordering a print or an eBook copy before the big day. And if you do it before midnight on October 14th you will be part of my official launch team! Along with my profuse thanks, you will receive some goodies in a giveaway.

So dust off your wand, my friend, and be get ready to be part of something magical. Check back here on Wednesday and I’ll tell you all about the things I have to giveaway.

Thanks,

Lindsey

Sometimes people ask me why I wrote this or that book and I usually answer, “Well, I had this idea of…”

If I know you very well, I might admit the truth and say something like, “Because the character showed up and started talking…”

But I wrote They Watch Us Like the Lions because I had to. Literally, I had to. I was assigned to present a brand-new idea while working through a publishing course. It couldn’t be a book that we had already scribbled out. It had to be an idea that could be molded into a fictional formula with a certain cast of characters fulfilling specific roles. I mentally paged through my extensive collection of future-book-summaries until I found a few that looked skeletal enough to sacrifice to the gods of formulaic-plots.

1. A mashup of fairy tale characters in a reimagined story of Cinderella.

2. That random scene I had seen and jotted an opening for years ago about a girl following a couple into a house and their teenage son shaking his head at her before the doors shut and lock from the outside.

3. The dystopian tale of a woman from a post-blackout area of Texas whose fiancé takes a job in the city and doesn't return when he should. She follows to find him, accepts a job to support herself while she searches, and reunites with him...in the depths of modern-day slavery.

My instructor told me to use the plot of #2 but place it in the dystopian world of #3. Also, to keep it at 30,000 words. So I wrote the book. I crossed off the plot points and contrived the suggested ending. I dutifully glared at the characters when they tried to go off script.

And then I went off script and left the program.

Why I Revised the Novella

I have worked for the last few years to get all the manuscripts I have on in my queue off into the world. The last thing I wanted was a lonely little novella hanging out on my hard drive. So I decided to share it as a serial with my readers, revising a chapter each week.

I promised my readers once that even though every book wouldn’t have a perfectly happy ending, every novella would end with hope. The original end for “They Watch Us Like the Lions” contained only the barest thread of hope. Even though the mechanics of it worked and it was a realistic ending, it was depressing. The main character got what she wanted while the lives of everyone around her fell apart and reorganized themselves into a semblance of resigned acceptance of their shattered dreams.

The problem was, I didn’t care if Katie got what Katie wanted: Katie was a self-centered and cardboard character. I cared more about the fate of her sister, Mallory, who only showed up in the beginning and end of the book.

I thought of shelving the manuscript completely. But I couldn’t shut away Neil. Neil had come alive. Neil, in classic Neil fashion, had found a way to stay within the confines of the required plot, while adding complexity and heart to the book. Neil had a story I had to save.

So, I dove back in, determined to let the characters tell the story. I discovered that Katie does think about others, even while she is trying to figure out who she wants to become and how much people really matter to her when stacked against her goals. I discovered Clark’s secret efforts to help his town and the things he couldn’t say. Katherine moved from a blip role to a best friend. I allowed the other characters to play the roles that felt natural to them. Though I kept much of the original content, I allowed the characters to take the reins and the ending unfold in a new way. I also added about 20,000 words of additional story.

Who did I write it for?

I’ve known people like Katie who have such big dreams and so few assets to make those dreams into realities. I’ve met a lot of people like Neil in the world, who struggled to perform their expected roles and hide who they really are. I wrote this book for readers who don’t like fluff, who won’t shy away from a heart-pounding scene but still want to see the characters who have gone through so much actually come out on top. I wrote it for people who want to believe that, no matter how dark life may grow, you can come again to a place of peace and hope.

I needed to believe that myself.

I wanted to redeem the book for myself, and I did. I transformed the dark realities the characters were living through into a well-told, sometimes intense tale, with an ending that includes a future of hope.

I can’t wait for you to read “They Watch Us Like the Lions.”

ONE YEAR LATER 

Katie tugged the wrinkles from the white gown. She studied the hem, noting with satisfaction that her seam was nearly flawless. The lace from Mallory’s wedding gown was now gathered into a full-skirted drape that swept the skirt, ready to be let out or taken in for the next bride. Most likely it would be let out; there were few girls in the town shorter than herself. 

But—at least for today—the gown fit her. It had been the most nerve-wracking project Katherine had forced her through, but she’d done well and had finished in time. 

Katherine let herself into the sewing room, smiling at Katie. “That looks perfect.” 

“I still can’t believe you made me sew the village wedding dress.” 

“I told you that you would do well, and you did,” Katherine threw back before adding. “And just case, I sewed one too.” 

Katie gasped, turning toward her. “You did not!” 

“I told you I’d always have your back,” Katherine said. “Besides, it’ll be nice for a bride to have options.” 

“Well, can I see it? Maybe I want to choose it.” 

“You can’t. It’s too late for alterations. I knew you’d do just fine on yours, so I made it to fit me.” 

“Should I read into that?” Katie teased. 

“You can read whatever story you want,” Katherine said. “And after your wedding, I’ll tell you the real one.” 

“Katie!” The bell jingled on the front door. Allison’s boots vibrated the floor as she sprinted into the room with a box in one hand and a letter in the other. “I hope you invited Mrs. Bonnie, because she asked me to bring you a hat.” 

Katie laughed. “We did invite her. In fact, we invited everyone in the village, including the former mayor. If the Blackwells don’t come tonight, that’s on them.” 

“Well, at least of them are coming. The groom and his aunt.” 

“And cousin,” Katherine said. “Julie Blackwell bought the city dress.” 

Katie giggled. “Did she really?” 

“Well, I did take it apart and made it into something new,” Katherine answered. “I didn’t want to remind Neil of his former girlfriend.” 

 “I’m pretty sure Neil is over the girl in the blue dress.” Katie said. She took the box lid off and felt her smile slip as she caught sight of the dried geraniums. “I hope Ms. Bonnie doesn’t want me to wear it for the ceremony.” 

“Don’t open it until after,” Katherine advised. “Then you can play ignorant. It’ll look great on you in your garden.” 

“Garden?” Katie asked. 

Allison cocked her head. “Every bride starts a garden. How else are you going to feed your husband?” 

Katie winced. “I guess he’ll starve. I’m no good at gardening, and I’m always here.” 

“I have a garden and I’m always here,” Katherine countered. 

“Yes, but you’re superwoman.” 

“Cotton is in your blood. Gardening is only one step away.” 

It was also the chore she avoided the most, but Katie took a breath. “Will you at least help me plant it?” 

“Of course we will,” Allison said. She held out the envelope. “Tucker gave me the card.” 

“You can burn it,” Katie said. 

“You should open this one. It might have money.” 

“Why would it have money? I’m not marrying her son.” 

“Just in case.” Allison slipped her finger under the flap and pulled the card free. She grinned and held up a universal currency card. “See?” 

“Well, that will come in handy next time we visit the city,” Katie countered sarcastically. 

“If you don’t want it, I’ll keep it,” Allison teased. Her eyes went to the card as she read in her best Mrs. Alcott voice. “Dearest Katie…” 

“Oohh, you’re dearest now,” Katherine teased. 

“Please accept my sincere congratulations on your marriage to Clark.” 

“She’s keeping tabs on us,” Katie muttered to Katherine. 

“I am truly happy for you and would love a note to hear how you are doing when you get settled in. Please use this money to buy something nice for your new home. Mrs. Alcott.” 

She paused, and Katie added, “P.S. tell Neil…” 

Allison held up her finger to cut her off before she grinned and read, “P.S. I have looked into a specialist out of New Antonio that I believe can help Neil if he is still experiencing any setbacks with his health. Please tell Neil if he decides to meet with him, he may stay with me at our home.” 

“Uh, no,” said Katherine. 

Allison glanced at her, then grinned as she continued, “I will not lock the door. And he may bring his girl. I heard he found someone in the village.” Her eyebrows tucked. “Who did she hear from?” 

“Probably a Blackwell,” Katie muttered. 

“Careful,” Katherine said. She placed the veil on the neck of the dress form and shook it out to relax the wrinkles. “You’re about to become a Blackwell.” 

A knock came from the porch door and Allison called, “If you’re Clark, you may not come in!” 

Katherine grinned softly. “That’s not Clark. That’s Neil.” 

There was a spring to her step as she left to open the front door. Neil still hadn’t learned when he could just walk into a building and when he needed to knock, so he knocked at all the doors. 

Allison sighed softly. “I’d be jealous if I wasn’t so happy for y’all.” 

“I think they are engaged,” Katie said. “I wondered, because Neil came home so excited, but he’s so hard to read. He gets excited over the most random things.” 

“I know. He’s funny.” Allison chuckled. “He saw one of our chicks hatch the other day, and I thought it was going to give him a heart attack.” 

“I wondered why he quit eating eggs,” Katie said. 

Allison’s bit her lip on a grin like she always did when she was contemplating telling a secret. Then she gave up and said, “Did you know he asked her?” 

Katie stared. “Wait, you mean asked her asked her? With words?” 

Allison squealed and nodded. “He finally talked.” 

“Little stinker! He hasn’t talked to me!” 

“Well, it probably still hurts him. But he said, ‘good morning.’ And then he asked her. And…that’s about all he could manage.” 

“Still,” Katie said. “I haven’t heard him speak for a year.” 

“Well, I guess he found something worth saying.” 

“I guess he did.” Katie put the lid back onto the hat box. 

Oh, but please don’t Katherine that I told you. Act surprised when she does. She didn’t want to take away any excitement from your wedding, but I suck at secrets.” 

Katie set the hat box on the shelf. “Well, I pretty much figured that one out on my own.” 

The two girls straightened as Katherine’s quick step punctuated Niel’s slower stride as the two crossed the main room again. Katie flashed a glance toward their hands, expecting them to be laced but the pair must have decided ahead of time to keep their secret. Neil followed her closely, then stepped to the side. His cat perched on his shoulder, already eyeing the tomato-shaped pin cushion. 

“Figured out what on your own?” Katherine asked. 

"How to reuse the lace from the old dress,” Katie answered while Allison flushed a deep red. “I like having something from Mallory’s dress. I’m also glad it’s not the same dress.” 

“What about you, Niel?” Allison asked. “Do you like Katie’s dress?” 

Neil studied the cascading lace skirt and then the sleeveless bodice. Then he shook his head. 

Allison gasped but Katie only snorted. 

“Well, I like it,” Katie said. “And that’s all that matters.” She eyed Katherine, suddenly curiouser than ever about the second dress. “But it’s good to know there’s other options for future brides.”  

“Never ask Neil a question if you don’t want a truthful answer,” Katherine warned. 

Neil flushed, but only offered a half-apologetic shrug. “I like Katie,” he said. 

His voice was soft, but clear. There was no rasp at all. Or any tone of regret. He actually smiled when the girls gasped. 

“He is talking!” 

The lines in Niel’s eyes only lifted higher as Katie placed a hand over her heart. “Thanks, Neil. I think that’s the best wedding gift I’m going to get. I like you too.” 

He sent her a nod, but swallowed apparently done for the day. 

“Sure there’s nothing else you want to tell us?” Katie eyed Niel, then Katherine but the girl had already turned to gather her bag. 

“Katie, your wedding is tomorrow. All of your friends are keeping secrets. It’s not nice to ask about them.” She pressed the key into Katie’s palm. “Lock up when you’re ready. Neil and I have things to do.” 

“Well, be sure and take the cat with you,” Katie threw back. 

Niel sent her a frown and reached to comfort the animal who only sent her a lofty look. 

Katherine laughed, reaching to scratch the cat’s chin. “Sorry, Amari. You’ve been kicked out. Come on, Niel.” 

Niel gave the girls a wave and Katie returned it, feeling her smile slip as the trio disappeared. She sighed. “Everything changes again tomorrow, Allison.” 

“Oh, don’t get mopey on me now,” Allison said. “Neil’s decided to talk again, and you and Clark are finally moving in together. Katherine’s all but officially engaged. I’m the one that should be moping.” 

“There’s always Sam,” Katie returned and only received a glare. 

Allison sighed, then teased, “Do you want to walk home together? One last time before you’re an old married woman stuck in your garden?” 

“That garden seriously is going to need some help.” 

Katie locked the workshop room, leaving her dress for the morning. She wouldn’t see Clark until then. He was at their new house, finishing installing the well pump: their gift to the entire village, though they’d decide to wait a few days after the honeymoon to reveal it.  

Katie tucked Mrs. Alcott’s currency card into her pocket as she walked through the shop. The bell on the door tinkled as she closed the door. She locked it behind her, then pocketed the key. 

She and Clark would never be wealthy. Even though Clark had lost his inheritance and distanced himself from his family, he still refused to sell any water. He hadn’t the heart to charge fully for his services as a doctor, so there wasn’t much coming in from that front either. But, like the others in the village, they would combine their earnings, and their elbow grease, and create a decent life. It would be a happier life than any she and Niel would have managed locked in the house. And she suspected, it would even be a happier life than the one she may have found if she had to school and stayed in the city. She was home now. And home was enough. 

The End

You did it! You, special reader, are one of the that made it all the way to the end of the book! That puts you in the top 2% of my reader fans and I appreciate you so much. You were one of the readers who witnessed my book when it was still in development. It’s almost ready to send into the world for others to enjoy, and I need your help! As the author, I can be too close to my story to clearly understand how a reader is going to be most impacted by it. By now, it’s been some time since you’ve read the beggining of my book. You may have forgotten details about it and that is exactly what I need! Please take a moment to help me by filling out this short survey of how you recall the story and characters. By doing this, you are partnering with me to make sure my book launch sets the right expectations for readers and delivers the reading experience it promises. I couldn’t do this without you, and I appreciate that you’ve invested your own life into helping me be the best author I can be. You’re helping me to step into my life’s calling and there are no words to thank you for that. Please take a moment to fill out any or all of the questions below.

Thanks!

Name * First Name Last Name Email When you think about the book, what is the first scene that you remeber? What is your favorite scene or section? Who was your favorite character? What was something you didn't like about the book? Did you like or dislike the ending of the book? Why? How did this book compare with other books I have written? What could I do to make this book better? Did you enjoy reading this book in serial form?

Thank you! I really appreciate the time you're taking to help me make this book as good as it can be.

The kitchen seemed dim now that Katie had gotten used to the lights of the city. Though the daylight still crept in from the windows, Jeremy had lit candles to stave off the shadows and built up the fire to drive away the chill.

Katherine asked a few questions about the city, but Katie steered the conversation onto village life and her friend followed suit. The girls kept a steady stream of stories and gossip that highlighted the best of their village life.

Neil listened but kept himself busy poking at a green bean.

“That’s what green beans look like when they’re not microwaved to death,” Katie teased.

“What’s microwaved?” Mallory asked.

Neil snorted, glancing at Katie.

“It what our breadbox is supposed to do,” Katie answered. “In the city, the buttons turn it on, and it heats up food in about a minute.”

“How does it cook that fast without burning it?” Katherine asked.

“Magnetron makes...waves.” Neil’s eyes roved as he motioned with his hands, “vibrates…molecules…but not air.”

Katherine stared at him before she stammered, “I…didn’t understand any of that.”

Neil’s smile vanished. His face flushed as he turned downward. “Sorry.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” Katherine said quickly. “I just…I’ve never heard some of those words. I don’t know what they—"

Neil yelped, jolting in his chair. His fork and knife clattered against the wooden plate.

Katie’s spine straightened as Neil’s hand went to his throat.

Jeremy gave a startled laugh. “What was that?”

“Are you all right? Mallory asked.

Neil’s eyes rose slowly, alarmed, to meet Katie’s.

The back of her knees hit her chair, sending it into a wobble, then a crash as she ran to the door to slam it. “No, no, this can’t be happening!”

“Katie?” Jeremy asked.

She spun, slamming her back against the door to stare at Neil. “How is AIDA here? How is she here!”

“Who is AIDA?” Mallory stood, swaying first toward Katie, then toward the back door.

“AIDA shocks Neil. It’s how the Alcott’s control him.” Katie said. “But she’s…I don’t…”

An unfamiliar engine proceeded a stream of crunches like someone dragged something across the front path.

Simultaneously, something crashed into the back door before it burst open, and Clark rushed in, hissing, “Go! Go, they’re looking for you.”

Katie rushed to Neil, but he sat frozen at the table. The front steps shook under several pairs of feet. Katie crawled beneath the tablecloth, motioning Neil to follow her. Katherine shoved his shoulder and the man finally dropped to his knees, crawling after Katie. From the other side, Mallory shoved two plates and glasses beneath the tablecloth.

The door thundered beneath three hard knocks. This time it was Neil who grabbed Katie to keep her from bolting out of hiding.

Katie curled to press her ear against the floor, peering beneath the edge of the tablecloth, just in time to see the lumps of caked mud fall from Jeremy’s boots as he walked toward the door.

He stood and called through, as though he didn’t know. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mayor Blackwell!”

Katie’s head began a slow swim.

Wood scraped against wood, and a puff of air shook the thin veil near Katie’s head as Jeremy opened the door.

Mallory’s friendly tone was ruined by the rapid breath that punctuated her words. “Mr. Blackwell. We didn’t expect to see you. Come in. How are you? Who is this?”

“Don’t waste my time,” Mr. Alcott’s voice growled. “I have come to collect my son and his property.”

“Your son?” Mallory’s surprise added a reality to her act. “What…”

“We don’t know anything about your son,” Jeremy stated.

“Obviously.” Mr. Alcott's voice rose. “If you did, you’d know that he has a tracker. Which means I can find him. Anytime he runs. Anywhere he goes. And I have tracked him to…oh. Here.”

Katie lifted her head to stare at Neil, meeting his eyes, only inches away. They were glassy with a bright glint of despair.

Mr. Blackwell spoke up. “So, we know he’s here. If he is here, so is she. And if you bring them out right now, we can leave with no further issues. If you don’t, you’ll be arrested.”

“Excuse me?” Jeremy’s voice rose.

“What are you talking about?” Mallory asked. “Mr. Blackwell, we don’t have your son here. And as for Katie…”

Mr. Alcott sighed. “AIDA, engage in correction mode eight.”

“Mr. Alcott, please,” Mrs. Alcott's voice rose in a squeak. “There’s no need! Please! Please bring out Neil. We just want Neil, don’t we, darling? We just want our son.”

Time was such a strange thing. It stretched on in silence long enough for Katie to press her fingers hard into Neil’s hand. For Neil’s eyes to fall to the floor, for his face to pale, for him to caress his throat, for the lines in his face to sink downward. The spark drained from his eyes.

“AIDA,” Mr. Alcott said.

Katie’s eyes flooded, both tears dropping to the floor, instantly replaced.

Neil rolled toward the tablecloth, disappearing beneath. It fell like a curtain.

“Ah. There you are.” Mr. Alcott’s voice remained calculatedly cold. “Where’s your girl? She down there with you?”

“No,” Neil said.

“AIDA, correct Neil’s lie.”

Katie crawled out.

Neil collapsed, clutching his throat, growling in a vain attempt to stifle his scream.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy stepped toward Neil, then whirled toward Mr. Alcott.

“I told you I am here to collect my son and Katie,” Mr. Alcott said. “If you try to stop me, I will bring charges of theft against you.”

“Theft? You kidnapped her!” Mallory said.

“I did not. I bought her.”

“What?” Katie sputtered.

Clark strode across the room and seized Katie hand. "That is a lie!”

“No, it’s not,” Mr. Alcott said. “I have the legal paperwork right here that Katie belongs to my son.”

Mallory snatched the paper from the man’s hands. “You promised her a scholarship and tricked us into sending her!”

Mr. Alcott blinked, folding his arms as Mallory scanned the paper, pretending she could read words.

Katie wobbled toward her sister, taking the paper. Words, printed like a book, but there was the date of her sister’s marriage. There was Mr. Alcott’s name in a scrawling signature. And there was Mayor Blackwell’s, right next to it.

“What is it?” Mallory panted. “What does it say?”

Her mouth fell as her face floated in a slow lift, toward the man who stood against the wall. “How could you?” Katie whispered before she yelled. “You had no right.”

Mr. Blackwell’s nose rose as he returned her eye contact. “As mayor, I have the legal authority to relocate unnecessary individuals in order to preserve resources. Katie wanted to go to the city. And if there was a wealthy family looking to provide a young lady with a good home, who promised to take care of her…”

“And we did take care of her!” Mrs. Alcott interjected. “We took very good care of her.”

“You locked me in a house!” Katy cried.

Jeremy reached for the rifle over the door and racked it. “You are not taking Katie anywhere. I don’t care who is mayor.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!” Mr. Blackwell roared.

Clark snatched the papers from Katie’s hand, crumbled them, and threw them into the fireplace.

Mr. Alcott took a breath. “I can get another copy of that paper.”

“I can get another bullet for this gun,” Jeremy said.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Alcott spoke in a very small voice, “we could get a refund.”

“How much?” Mallory asked.

“$5,000,” Mr. Alcott said.

Jeremy glared. “Why don’t you just take our mayor instead for an even trade?”

“Jeremy,” Mayor Blackwell spoke. “Don’t do anything stupid. We will let Mr. Blackwell take Katie and Neil, and we will not stop him.”

Clark pulled in a breath, turning toward Mr. Alcott. “I will buy Katie from you.”

“You, son, don’t have enough to buy Katie!” Mr. Blackwell roared.

“I’ll get it,” Clark snapped.

“From who?” Mr. Blackwell asked. “Not us.”

 “Katie is mine!” Neil roared. His voice rang, commanding every eye in the room to swing toward him. He glared at his father, speaking distinctly. “She wants…to stay. She stays.”

“Well, then it’s all settled,” Mrs. Alcott held out her arm, almost desperately. “Come on home. We’ll find you another girl.”

The air left Neil’s lungs like he’d been punched. “I want to stay.”

Mr. Alcott pressed his tongue against his teeth. “That’s not an option.”

“Of course, it is,” Mallory said. “He’s a grown man. He’s welcome to stay.”

“Katie doesn’t want you, Neil,” Mr. Alcott spoke with slow, distinct words. “She lied to you. Everything she told you was just to trick you into helping her escape!”

“That’s not true,” Katie said.

“You had no intention of staying with Neil here,” Mr. Alcott insisted. “You just used him to break you out and dragged him through the wilderness so you could get back to this guy.”

He motioned toward Clark who threw a surprised glance toward Katie.

She shook her head, sputtering, “I never…I said Neil could be free here, and he can be! He’s Class A. He has no restrictions.”

“See Neil?” Mr. Alcott said. “She doesn’t want you! There’s nothing for you here.”

“That’s not true!”

“How many times has she lied to you?”

“Neil, I opened the door for you,” Katie said. “I wouldn’t have opened the door if I wanted you to stay behind.”

“Well, which one do you want, Katie?” Mr. Alcott demanded. “Neil or this guy?”

“That’s not fair!” Clark snapped.

Neil dropped his head so low she couldn’t see his expression, only the rise and fall of his throat as he swallowed. “I don’t…want Katie. I want…to stay.”

Mr. Alcott dug his phone from his pocket, hit a button, and spoke into it. “AIDA, engage in correction mode 10.”

“Rich!” Mrs. Alcott screamed. “Take it off! Take it off right now!”

“Neil,” Mr. Alcott spoke evenly, “you are coming home, with or without Katie. Now walk.”

“Come on, darling.” Mrs. Alcott held out her arms. “Please come. Please, baby, come.”

Neil’s eyes traveled to the window, where the evening sunlight fell into a square across the floor. Lit by the glow, his eyes shone with moisture before a blink wiped it away. He turned his face toward his parents. Lifted his chin and spoke distinctly as he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Alcott’s eyes widened. “AIDA, disengage!” He shook where he stood, screaming louder. “Disengage!”

Neil shuddered.

Mr. Alcott dropped the phone. He charged toward his son, caught Neil’s chest, let out a scream as the electricity locked their bodies together. The two bodies shook in unison and stilled in unison, collapsing onto the floor. Mr. Alcott’s head hit the timbers with a loud crack, trapped beneath his son. A halo of blood pooled around the man’s head.

“Correction mode disengaged,” AIDA announced.

Katie screamed, wresting herself from Clark’s grip.

Mrs. Alcott  sagged, catching herself on the table before she collapsed onto her knees.

Katie snatched the phone from the floorboard. She slammed it against the wood, stamping it with her heel. Cracks spidered across the screen. She kicked it, sending it ricocheting against the wall where it split, spitting out the battery.

“Katie! Katie!” Clark lurched to catch her hand.

Katie’s knees throbbed as they hit the boards. Sobbing, she gingerly touched Neil’s chest. Found no current, no shock. No pulse.

“Clark, do something,” Katie panted.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” Clark sputtered. “I don’t even know what happened!”

“Lightening! It’s like lightening!” Katie said.

Clark blew out a breath, shook himself into focus. He felt for a pulse, then planted his palms on Neil’s chest and pumped his weight onto the larger man, already shaking his head with doubt. “I don’t think this will work.”

“It’ll work,” Katie said.

She stared as Clark pinched Neil’s nose and blew hard into his mouth, then pumped again. She crawled to Neil’s head as he pumped again. “I’ll blow. Tell me when to blow.”

“Now,” Clark said.

Neil’s skin was red. Katie put her mouth to his lips, refilling his lungs, then squeezing her eyes as Clark pumped again. She heard something crack. “What was that?”

“A rib. Keep going.”

Katie sobbed but sucked in a breath and tried again.

Mr. Alcott’s vacant gaze stared past her. His eyes had dulled already, face frozen in pain.

“Neil, please. Please, please,” Katie whispered as Clark put his full weight on the man’s sternum.

“Katie… honey…” Mallory’s voice carried softly like it did the day they buried their parents and Katie wouldn’t let them shut up the coffins.

“No!” Katie barked at her, then begged. “Clark. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Clark panted, trying another three pumps and Katie blew. Over and over again until she was dizzy, until Mr. Alcott’s blood had pooled around her knees, until Mrs. Alcott’s sobs had turned into screams that even Mallory’s hug couldn’t muffle.

Until the lines in Neil’s face twitched, rearranging themselves into a subtle expression that belied the pain beneath. His chest pumped. Then he took the tiniest sip of a breath.

Even Mallory, for all her skill in comforting, hadn’t been able to keep Neil out of the hayloft. He sat with his bandaged arm wrapped around his knee, watching the wind rustle through the trees. Katie grimaced as she stepped over the top of the ladder and sank next to him.

“My friend, Katherine, is coming today,” she said. “She needs to measure you, so she can make you some clothes. Did you know you’re the biggest guy in the town?”

Neil’s eyebrows twitched, before he glanced sidelong at her.

“It’s true,” Katie said. “Most of the men are about Jeremy’s height, though he says his dad was taller. Anyway, you’ll like Katherine. She’s calm. More like Mallory than me.”

She trailed off because something Neil’s was staring into the barnyard. Katie twisted, then both winced and grinned as she caught sight of Jeremy and Malory who were kissing near the pigpen. “Haven’t you seen anyone kiss before?”

Neil shook his head.

Katie straightened. “Not even your parents?”

He sent her a baffled look and shook his head. Too startled to choose his words, he sputtered, “What…for?”

 “That’s what people do when they really like each other,” Katie stammered. “I mean, when they want to get married and have a family and live together. And…I don’t actually know why. It…it just feels nice.”

The man’s eyebrows twitched with his thoughts as his eyes roved the bits of hay on the floor. Katie swallowed, hoping he didn’t try to kiss her and trying to think of something kind that would deter him.

“You can’t just kiss anyone though,” she said. “She has to want to kiss you back.”

Neil blinked. His jawbone bulged before he said, “Like Clark.”

She sat stunned, but she replied, “Yes.”

“I saw.”

“You did?”

“I…didn’t know…why.”

Katie bit her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Clark. I have wanted to be with Clark for almost my entire life. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t think you’d let me leave if you knew. And then I didn’t think you’d come with me if you knew. And I wanted you to come. I wanted you to have a home here like I do.”

Neil blinked. “You broke my home.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She shifted, turning toward him. “But you could make a new home. Easier than I can, honestly. You can buy just about any house here that you like. And you’ve got plenty of money to live on while you decide what kind of work you like to do. No one is going to shock you if you don’t build worlds. Neil gets to decide what Neil wants to do.”

He glanced back at her with somber eyes, but they were no longer dull.

“And when you’re ready, you can meet all the villagers,” Katie said. “We do lots of things together. Sometimes we’ll all work on building a new barn, sometimes we have weddings and dances, sometimes we go hunting or out to collect mesquite pods. You can have a lot of friends, not just me. And, probably, someday you’ll realize you want to kiss one of them and she’ll want to kiss you back.”

“But not you.”

“Not me,” Katie answered.

Neil took a breath and his eyes returned to the barnyard, but Jeremy and Mallory had gone back to their chores. She braced, but then he asked, “What is…mesquite pod?”

Katie huffed a laugh and pointed through the window. “See that scraggly tree? That’s a mesquite. They make seed pods in June, and we collect them. You can grind up the seeds to make a kind of bread and alcohol.”

“What’s alcohol?”

“It’s a kind of drink. But don’t drink too much of it, or you’ll do dumb things and get sick.”

He threw her an incredulous look. “Why drink?”

“It’s just what some people do.”

One side of his face scrunched before he shook his head. “Villagers weird.”

“Hallo!” Katherine’s voice carried. She stood on the porch in a brown cloak.

Katie hung out of the hayloft to call. “We’re up here!”

Katherine turned, grinned, and walked across the yard. Neil paled but made no protest beyond a swallow.

“She’s bringing a surprise,” Katie said before the man could flee. “She wouldn’t even tell me what it is.”

She was glad she’d invited Katherine to meet Neil before Allison’s boisterous personality came along or they were confronted with any of the Blackwell glares. The girl represented an average villager: just a plain worker who made a steady living off of sewing and friendly chitchat.

Katherine climbed the ladder, clutching one arm against her cloak like she was hiding something under it. Even though she’d been prepared for Neil’s height, she still blinked in surprise when she saw him sitting next to Katie.

He watched her, warily, but with enough curiosity that Katie relaxed. “Neil, this is Katherine. Katherine, Neil.”

“Hello, Neil.” Katherine offered her hand.

Neil threw a panicked glance toward Katie.

Katherine’s smile slipped and she began to drop her hand, but Katie stood and said, “In our village, we shake hands like this.”

She took Katherine’s hand and gave it a shake, though their usual greeting had always been a quick hug.

Neil blinked. “Why?”

“I…don’t know that either.” Katie said, then laughed, looking toward Katie. “Neil is making me rethink everything we do.”

“It’s just a way to show that you’re willing to be friends,” Katherine said. “That you’re not going to hurt each other.” She offered her hand again to the man.

He pushed himself to his feet, and Katherine kept her smile even when he towered over her. Her hand nearly disappeared inside of Neil’s as he took it, and Katie hoped he didn’t squeeze it too hard.

But he swallowed and found the best version of his voice as he said, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Katherine’s smile spread a bit. “Katie tells me you like lions.”

Neil’s eyes roamed from her, then back warily. “Yes.”

“Have you ever seen a kitten?”

The man’s face blanked as he released her hand. Thrown off, he only offered a mute headshake.

“They’re like lions,” Katherine said. She reached beneath her cloak and pulled out a wriggling orange kitten. “Little tiny lions.”

“Katherine!” Katie gasped, the laughed. “Mallory is going to have words for you!”

Her friend grinned outright. “I asked Jeremy if I could give Neil a kitten. He said yes.”

Katie snorted. “Oh, then Mallory is going to have words for him.”

Neil’s head tilted and traveled forward as he stared at the creature. He reached toward it, stroked the long hair with one finger. His mouth traveled upward higher than she’d ever seen it.

It had never occurred to Katie to get Neil a kitten, but it was a brilliant move on Katherine’s part. The intrigue made Neil relax and the antics made Katherine laugh and the three spent nearly an hour in the loft, vying for the pet’s attention with bits of straw.

When Mallory called them for dinner, Katie hesitated, suddenly worried Neil would choose a cat over dinner. But she said, “Neil, we should leave it in a crate out here. Mallory won’t like it in the house.”

Neil’s grin slipped. He eyed the kitten. But then his eyes flickered to Katherine as she stood and brushed the hay off. His eyes fell, roved the corner as he swallowed. But he rose without protest. As they neared the porch and it’s door, Katie felt his hand brush hers, but when she glanced down, he’d pulled his fingers into a trembling fist. His breath grew tighter as he climbed each of the wooden steps.

He watched while Mallory greeted Katherine with a hug instead of a handshake. When they cleared the door, he swayed back toward the barn.
Katie pressed her lips together, waiting for him.

He glanced at her, took a breath, and stepped across the threshold.

“Katie, he’ll be all right,” Jeremy said. “It’s a slash. Mallory can stitch that up.”

Katie continued her brisk pace, but it only required her brother-in-law to slightly lengthen his gait. Her back was sore. She suspected she had some minor cuts and scrapes of her own, but she’d been so flustered she hadn’t noticed until now.

Katie rubbed a tear away. “I know, I just wish he would have let Clark help him.”

“Well, he’s only been here two days. You can’t expect him to trust everyone. Give him some time.” Jeremy stuck his hands into his pockets and sent her a sidelong glance. “It’s going to take a bit to adapt. Even you’re coming back to a different life.”

“I feel different,” Katie admitted, “but not in a good way. When I tried to leave that house, Neil said I hated him because I was leaving him to be hurt. And he was right,—about the leaving—but not the hating.” Her eyes filled. “And now he’s seen Clark, and he thinks I’ll leave him again.”

Jeremy nodded peered down the driveway of the farm they passed, before turning back. “I think you’re thinking too much about what those boys think about you, when the real question is what do you think about you?”

“I think I have done some terrible things,” Katie said.

“Most people do when they’re in a situation when they have to survive,” Jeremy said. “You can’t change what the past made you do, but you can decide who it will make you into. You decide who you want Katie to be, and you work on her. And you let Neil decide who he wants to be without you. And then you can both decide if you want to be those people together.”

“Sage advice from four months of marriage,” Katie teased weakly.

“I got it from my father.” His smile crept a little higher. “On the day Mallory came to school holding Gordan’s hand and broke my sixteen-year-old heart.”

Katie threw back her head, laughing and moaning at the same time, “Her Gordan phase! I remember that! Oh, I hated him. He was such a jerk.”

“But a very handsome jerk,” Jeremy countered.

Katie shook away thoughts of the man. “I am so glad she married you.”

The man chuckled and stepped onto the porch of the seamstress. “Me too.”

They walked on in silence. Katie stayed lost in her own thoughts until they reached the edge of town and the seamstress shop.

Jeremy took his hat from his head and knocked the dust out of it. “You want me to stay with you and then you can go to the butcher’s with me, or should we part ways?”

“I’ll be fine,” Katie said. “Thanks.”

“Stay here then, and I’m swing back by.”

Katie nodded and watched Jeremy walk away, worrying his gait wouldn’t stay so relaxed once Mr. Blackwell realized she wasn’t on a visit. She blew out a breath. One battle at a time.

She pushed open the door and crept into the shop, finding no voices. She followed the clack of the ancient sewing machine, to the sewing room in the back. She watched Katherine hum as she worked, waiting for her to finish sewing the seam before she said, “Good morning.”

Katherine gasped, then grinned and shoved her chair back. “Katie! I heard a rumor you were back! It’s so good to see you! I’ve been wondering about you!” She hugged Katie, almost immediately pulling back to stare at the blue dress. “That is gorgeous. What material is it?”

“I don’t even know,” Katie said. “But I thought we could trade.”

Katherine blinked in surprise. “For this?”

“It’s the only one I have,” Katie said. “And it’s got a stain on the back, but I think you could probably get it out. I need something else. Something for a pig farm, and I don’t want to spend any more of Jeremy’s money than I have to.”

Katherine cupped the side of her face with one hand and rested her elbow in the other palm in the pose she always took when working out a calculation. “I don’t mind trading it, not at all. But the only dress I have that would fit you is meant to wear in the fall. It’s a cotton, quarter-length sleeve. I do have an extra cloak you can borrow, and you’d be warm enough in that, I think, until we could get you a winter dress.”

“Anything is better than this,” Katie said. “But I don’t want to take your cloak.”

“Too bad.” Katherine grinned at her. “I have two and you have none. And a person can only wear one cloak at a time. Besides, I already feel like I’m cheating you. I can sell a city dress to a Blackwell woman for a lot, especially if it’s made from something unusual.”

“Just don’t tell them it was mine,” Katie said. “Or they won’t be caught dead in it.”

“Makes it all the more fun, doesn’t it?” Katherine chuckled, walking into the main room to a rack where she went through a small assortment of garments. “It’s not really your coloring, but I can pick something better for the winter dress. Two dresses for the one, I think would be a fair trade. At least.”

“I was actually wondering if I could trade it for one dress and a man’s outfit?” Katie asked.

Katherine pulled a dark green dress from the rack and tipped her head toward Katie. “Intriguing.”

“And I need you to keep that a secret.”

“Only if you explain what secret I’m keeping.”

“We have someone from the city staying with us,” Katie said. “He’s a friend, and he needed a place to go. He’s pretty much a runaway slave.”

Katherine’s eyebrows climbed. “Is slavery legal in the city?”

“I don’t know if it is or not,” Katie said. “But I don’t think it matters because I had a police officer offer to buy me. And if they’re buying slaves, they’re not going to be protecting any. That’s why you can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” Katherine’s eyes took a determined glint. She strode toward Katie, giving her the dress. “Here. Try this one just in case we need to alter it. I’ll find something for him. Does he have a name?”

“Neil,” Katie said. “He’s big.”

“How big?”

“Like find the tallest thing you possibly have, and we’ll see?”

“Is he as tall as David Blackwell?”

“Taller.”

“Taller?”

“He’s at least six feet. Maybe a little more. But he doesn’t look tall because he’s wider too. He dwarfs Jeremy. And probably every other man in town.”

“Good night!” Katherine exclaimed. “Are all the city men like that?”

“I don’t really know,” Katie said. “But Neil’s father is about two inches taller than he is. I think it’s because they never run out of food there like we do.”

“I’ll stop by today and take his measurements,” Katherine said. “If he’s that big, nothing here will fit him. I’ll have to draft a pattern for him.”

“You may as well,” Katie said. “Hopefully, he’ll be here forever.”

She stepped into the workroom and quickly changed into the dress. The fit was a little loose at the waist, but it was good enough for her.

She stared into the mirror, tilting her head because the blonde hair was beginning to grow back beneath the brown, but the brown did seem to be more faded from when she first put it in. She sighed, wondering how long she was going to have to live with two colors, but the only alternative was to chop off the brown an inch from her head. She wasn’t ready for that.

She folded the blue dress and forced a smile as she stepped back out, handing it off. “Here. Take this. And may the best Blackwell win.”

Katherine grinned. “We should make a bet. I say Julie.”

“Well, you would know better than me!” Katie teased.

Now that the garment was in her hand, Katherine explored the material, shaking her head. “I have no idea what this is made of. It falls very nicely, doesn’t it? Oh, and I see the stain on the back. What happened?”

“I got attacked by a young mountain lion. Neil pulled it off of me.”

“And it didn’t tear his face off?”

“No, Clark shot it.”

“Everyone okay?”

“Mostly. Malory was stitching up Neil’s arm when we left. I think his heart was broken more than his body. He loves lions, and he’s just figured out they’re mean.”

Katherine laughed sympathetically. “Poor man, what a start.”

“Jeremy thinks he can adapt to country life. I really hope he’s right.”

“He’ll have to. Sounds like he’ll die if he doesn’t.”

Katie watched Katherine fold the dress, hesitating. Katherine was only three years older than herself. They’d gone to school together, closer friends than she’d been with Allison until Katherine turned fourteen and had left to work with her parents in her tailor shop. They’d bonded again, briefly, when Katherine’s father died the same year Katie’s had. But Allison was such a dominating friend, the quieter Katherine faded, except when the girls were alone in the shop. Katie wondered if that would change, now they were all out of school.

Still. Katherine had nearly a decade of sewing experience by now and Katie could only mend. She swallowed. “I need to find work,” she said. “Mallory said I might ask here. I don’t do a lot of sewing, but I could learn.”

“Do you have the patience for it?” Katherine asked.

“I think I could develop it,” Katie ventured.

“We could give it a try,” Katherine said. “I do need somebody. May as well be somebody I like. You’re good with math, and I’m not so much. You’d be good with the measurements and drafting.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Katie said. “Just worried about making good stitches.”

“That you’ll have to learn,” Katherine said. “But we could start by designing a dress that fits you better than that one does.”

“It’s good enough.” Katie gave Katherine a quick hug. “Thank you. I see Jeremy coming, so I need to go. Why don’t you plan on staying for dinner tonight when you come to measure Neil?”

“I will, thank you,” Katherine answered. She paused before her eyes moved past Katie to the back door. “In fact, I have an idea.”

“What?”

Katherine grinned. “I have to ask Jeremy.”

Chapter Nineteen

 

Katie woke and stared at the rafters before reality returned to her. She was at Jeremy's home. Neil was sleeping in the haybarn. And Clark had promised a future together. She wondered if life would have had the same outcome if she had never gone to the city or if her absence had helped both of them realize what they truly wanted. Maybe something good would come out of her captivity. And at least Neil was free. His parents would have gone on tricking him for the rest of his life if they hadn't decided to trick her.

She smelled bacon and grinned to herself. How much had changed. Maybe the promise of familiar food would lure Neil into the house at least for an hour. Katie shoved back the blankets, dressed back into her city dress, and padded down the steps barefoot.

The sun was up, but the sky was still turning from gold to blue. At least the pigs were far from the house and the wind blew the smell toward the neighbor's farm. And anyway, she wouldn't be here much longer. She'd be living in a cabin in the woods, hopefully with water bubbling up to gather her friends around.

"Neil!" she called, stepping into the doorway.

There was no reply, but Neil was a hard sleeper, so she didn't panic until she reached the top of the ladder and only found an empty indent in the blanket. She stepped down the rings and circled the barn to the pig pens where Jeremey was mixing the rainwater into buckets of corn.

"Jeremy, have you seen Neil?"

Jeremy stood, then thumbed toward the woods. "He left at sunup, headed toward the river."

"What? Why didn't you stop him?"

"He's a grown man," Jeremy said. "Why should I? He's just exploring."

"He's never been out of the house!" Katie cried.

"And he thinks I'm going to lock him inside of mine," Jeremey said. "If he wants to leave my yard, and I try to stop him, what do you think is going to happen?"

"He doesn't know anything about exploring! He's going to step in a trap!"

Jeremy shook his head. "No, I showed where the trail was and told him to be sure and stay on it so he could find his way back. He'll be all right."

"I'm gonna find him," Katie said. "Breakfast is ready anyway."

"Better put on some shoes."

"Trust me. Bare feet are better than the shoes I have."

"Better get some good ones from town."

"I will after I find Neil."

And a job so she could pay her brother-in-law back for the new sets of clothes. She stepped carefully, but the path was well-worn, and she made good time following it to the river. She'd envisioned every scenario that could have gone wrong: days with search parties trying to find Neil if he'd wandered off, finding him with a foot caught up in a trap, surely he wouldn't try to eat anything, right?

But at the end of the path, she found him sitting beside the river and he'd even had the good sense to sit on a log instead of the red clay at the base of the cliffs. He rose and spun toward her as she stepped onto the path.

Terror brushed his face before he grinned and motioned her toward him.

"Neil, you sca—"

"Shh!" Neil held his finger to his lip.

She glanced around but saw nothing, so she walked until she was closer to him. "What?"

Half his mouth lifted in the sudden smile that one wears when they stumble on a fellow countryman in a foreign country He lifted his hand, pointing upward behind her.

She swiveled, scanning the cliff until red clay met blue sky. Then on a lower ledge, not twenty feet away, she glimpsed a flash of movement. Tawny fur outlined a feline shape against the rocks, smooth flesh blocking out the rough crevices.

The golden eyes of a young mountain lion locked onto hers. The animal pulled its ears against his head, carefully placing each paw in front of the other, taking slow, measured steps toward them. She opened her mouth to shout. Her dehydrated vocal cords clashed, squeaked, choked. The creature locked its eyes onto her. Stepped into the dried clay.

She stumbled backward. Crashed into Neil’s chest. Felt his arms catch her. He stepped, dragging her, back, back, back. His shoe hit her heel. She felt him tilt. Landed on his chest, felt his breath slam against the back of her neck.

She rolled off his chest onto her stomach. Pushed herself halfway up. Paws hit her shoulders. Her arms collapsed. Her face slammed into the ground. A rock pressed into her cheek. Weight crushed out her breath. Teeth grazed her neck.

The weight lifted suddenly. She stumbled to her feet. Her hand went to her neck, squishing warm blood against her skin. She spun.

Neil was on his side, squeezing the creature’s neck. He straddled its back, his top leg squeezing the creature's ribs, his bottom trapped beneath its weight. The mountain lion turned its head toward Neil, snapping his teeth near his face.

A scream found its way past Katie's dry cords, ripping into the air. She grabbed a branch, slammed it across the creature’s snout. The branch busted, sending a shower of bark into Neil’s face.

The claws flailed, the mountain lion swiping the air. Neil clung on, grunting between growls.

“Hey!” A second, more primitive yell rang from the trees. A gun exploded.

Neil jumped and the cat bucked, pulling free from Neil's legs. Their bodies broke apart, creating a V as the creature tried to back out of his chokehold.

A bearded man, slid down the slope of the cliff and positioned himself next to Katie, leveling his pistol at the pair on the ground. His finger tightened on the trigger, but his eyebrows twisted in concentration as he aimed his barrel toward the two heads. His hair was dark, he had a beard, his eyes were hooded beneath the brim of his hat. But she recognized that hat. She knew that pistol.

“Clark!” Katie sputtered, now that she could see him in the daylight.

He swung the barrel high, fired again into the air.

The animal twisted above Neil, sliding free of his grasp. It ran toward the cliffs leaving Neil pawing air, then shielding his face.

Clark swung the pistol, following the animal's flight, waiting until the mountain lion was three feet from Neil.

A second explosion jerked the animal’s head to one side. His face went down first, hitting the dirt, dragging the nose beneath his chest, then falling into a heap.

Clark sent a third bullet into the creature, gaining no reaction from the animal. Then he lowered the gun, swinging toward her. “Katie?”

Neil pushed himself up, resting on one leg then twisted away from them, eyes trained on the tufts of fur that rustled in the wind. Then slowly turned blinking toward Clark and his gun.

She grabbed Clarks arm, panicking, forming a frantic refrain. “Clark . . . ”

Clark pulled the cow horn from his belt and offered it to her. “Katie, what happened to your hair? Who is that?”

She drank. The water was warm but washed down her throat, attempting a detour to her lungs and leaving her coughing.

Neil stood slowly.

Clark released her, leveling his barrel at Neil, barking, “Who are you?”

“Stop!” Katie sputtered. “Stop, Clark, he’s a friend.”

But Neil stood with both fists clenched, heaving deep breaths, moving a glare from Clark to the dead animal nearby. His eyes held a primitive glint.

“Neil?” Katie asked. She took a sidestep away from Clark, talking like she would to a spooked horse. “This is my friend, Clark Blackwell. You remember Clark. I told you about him.”

Neil’s eyebrow twitched once, but hers tucked as she tried to remember exactly what she’d told him, for most of the time she’d omitted Clark from the picture she’d painted of home.

“Clark, this is Neil,” Katie said. “He’s the only reason I’m back. He helped me escape. He's never seen a gun."

“What? Who is this?”

“Clark, put down the gun. Please."

Katie took three steps forward toward Neil, reaching toward him. “It’s okay, Neil. That lion was going to eat you.”

Neil's chest heaved harder with each breath.

“He only shot it because he had to. He’s not going to shoot us. Clark, put the gun down!”

Neil growled. He held his hand toward Katie.

She listened for the shifting of metal, but all she heard was Clark’s voice. “Katie, come back."

Neil stood with his fists clenched and chest heaving. His eyes slit, his face contorted with pain, fear, and full-on hatred.

"Clark, please. He's just scared. He's used to being hurt. I promised him no one would hurt him here.”

He’s like an animal, Katie!” Clark said.

“He’s not an animal!” Katie snapped. “He doesn’t understand our world!”

Neil winced, turning a surprised look toward her.

Finally, she heard the click of Clark’s hammer being slowly maneuvered into a neutral position. "Can he understand us?"

"Yeah. They hurt his throat so . . . it's hard for him to talk. Neil, this is my best friend. He's not going to hurt us."

Neil winced. Turned his full attention to her face, his stare turned into a series of blinks.

If Clark was looking for signs of humanity, the next five seconds showed them all: the glaze of confusion, slump of betrayal, and lines of hurt finely etched into to every crevice of burned skin.

“Are you sure you want to sleep here?” Katie asked as she tucked the blanket edge into the hay. “It's going to get colder.”

Neil motioned toward the folded quilt that sat nestled in the hay.

“It may not be enough,” Katie warned. “We'll leave the door unlocked, so you can come sleep by the fire if you get cold.”

Who knew? Neil would probably tolerate winter better than summer and the hayloft did look cozy even with the open loft door. That, she suspected, was what Neil was after: the big square of open air between him and the stars whom, apparently, he no longer felt were watching.

“Stay?” Neil asked.

Katie shook her head. “No, I can't. Mallory wouldn't allow it.”

It wasn't the real reason, and she winced as his eyebrows drew. She'd spent almost all day trying to convince Neil that Mallory and Jeremy weren't threats, and now she was throwing rules at him like they were in charge. But it was their house.

She resisted a sigh and sent him a smile. “I'll see you in the morning.”

By the time she'd reached the ladder, Neil’s eyes had already returned to the moonlit yard. He should be fine. He couldn't wander off too far without proper light, and she doubted he'd tried. The haybarn was locked so wild animals couldn’t get into it.

She couldn't stay with him. That was sending mixed signals and now that she was home, she didn't have to pretend anymore. She walked through the yard, hugging herself. She'd thought when she'd gotten home, life would resolve, but it seemed she'd only traded one set of problems for another.

And then a whisper came out of the dark. “Katie?”

She gasped but used the same breath to squeal, “Clark!”

She saw his outline, felt his arms wrap around her. He felt short now, when he never had before, but it was a good size, a few inches taller, comfortable, not looming. He smelled like the rest of her villagers, like sun and rain and the faintest floral hint of the inside of his home. He squeezed her, and he felt like her father had, a taunt layer of muscles smoothing the ridges of his ribs. Like a villager. Like a human.

“Katie, I'm so sorry!” he whispered. “I should have known something was wrong! I should have come look for you.”

“You wouldn't have found me,” Katie said. “Tucker told you?”
“Tucker, no,” he said. “Tucker didn't breathe a word, except when I begged him to tell. Bonnie thought she saw you ride past in Tucker's truck. She told Dad you were probably just on a break, but he's furious. That's why I couldn't come until now.”

“Why should he be furious?” Katie hissed. “He has no right to say whether or not I can live in the village!”

“It's us, Katie,” Clark said. “He doesn't want you with me. But he'll calm down and . . . I think I figured out a way without waiting for him to die.”

Katie closed her eyes, almost afraid to hear. “How?”
“You can't tell anyone yet, not even Mallory.”

“Okay.”

“Remember that hermit that lives on the edge of the creek who used to yell at us to get off his land?”

“Yes.”

“His name is Mr. Maton. He had a stroke out in his orchard, and I've been going out to check on him. We've become friends. He told me when he was little and the blackout first started, most of the families drank from the river because you could then. But his grandfather drilled and found an artesian well on their land. And they kept it a secret for almost forty years until it collapsed in on itself.”

“So there's another well in town?” Katie asked.

“Not yet, but there could be,” Clark said. “He doesn't have any children or any family left at all. I told him I'd buy the land from him if he'd let me pay in installments. He can live there for as long as he lives, and I've been paying him in supplies to make him as comfortable as he likes. I was worried still, that I couldn't pay enough before he dies. I think it's only a year or maybe less with his health going down. But he said last week that he put in his will that the land was to go to me because he's got no used for it after he's gone. And once we get a well, Father can't control everyone anymore. At least, not through threats of water.”

“What about Jeremy and Malory?” Katie asked. “Your father told me when I left that he didn't want me to come back and, if I did, he'd stop selling us water.”

“I'm not sure he actually will,” Clark said. “He's got the water, but Jeremy has the pigs. But even if he does, I'll get water to you. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you again, ever, not if I can help it.”

Her older, wiser self knew better: there was no way he could make such a promise, not in a world where even the police could make offers to buy her. But she did believe it, because he was Clark, because they'd finally ended this dance of denial, because somehow Clark always found a way.

"Katie!" Malory called from the house doorway.

Katie and Clark both huffed a laugh as the moment was gone. She pushed him away but slowly. "Go for now. No one knows we're together."

"But we are together," Clark whispered.

"Yes." Katie's smile grew in the dark, even after he left.

He kissed her again, impulsively, and then disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

Her city shoes crunched against the crushed leaves and dry grass, but it was a comforting sound. She wasn't sure how things would work out, but they would. She bit her lip against a grin and returned to her sister's house.