Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“He’s the closest thing I have to a pet, I guess.”
I think longingly of my horse, Moxie, and the way she’s comforted me since my mom’s death. Sometimes, pets understand us on a level no one else does. I make a mental note that we’ll need travel arrangements for his turtle. It wouldn’t be right for Rafael to leave him behind.
I look around the cabin, also noting that my husband-to-be doesn’t have a lot in the way of material possessions. The whole cabin is rustic and simple though spacious. The vaulted ceilings and large windows give it an airy feeling. It’s a far cry from Father’s castle with its five dining halls and endless sitting rooms all filled with ornate treasures designed to remind visitors of our status. “What do you normally do in the mornings?”
“Check on my crops. I’m not much of a farmer, just believe in living off the land. I grow most of my own food, and I trade with some of the other mountain men for things like meat.”
He’s independent and rugged. Will he like living in the castle where there are people to do even the most basic tasks for him? Or will he grow bored and resent me for bringing him into so much splendor?
“You could help me for the day…if you don’t have any royal duties to attend to.” There’s a definite note of sarcasm in his voice. He still doesn’t believe I am who I say I am.
I’ve never been one to back down from a fight, so I hold my head high and meet his gaze confidently. “I’d love to.”
5
AURORA
“Can I meet Herbert?” I ask after I’ve finished the tour of Rafael’s gardens. He spent the morning showing me his crops. He seemed to think I would be disgusted by the dirt and the worms and the hard work. But I spent the day shoulder-to-shoulder with him, doing the same tasks. I want my mountain man to know I’m interested in more than a marriage in name. I want to be partners in every sense of the word, and that means pulling my weight.
Besides, I know Rafael’s secret now. He might march around here like a big grump, scowling at me. But the man talks to his tomato plants. He fusses over his cucumbers, turning them to make sure they’re getting enough sunlight then he bends low to speak words of encouragement over the lettuce heads he’s growing.
He struggles to move sometimes. I see the way his balance is affected, the way he can’t control his limb movements. I’ve always taken for granted the fact that if I tell my body to pick up a shovel, it will. If I tell my fingers to release the handle of the hose, they will. But his muscles don’t work the same way.
“Sure, but I have to warn you, turtles are the ultimate introverts.” I think he made a joke. I’m finding that I like Rafael’s dry sense of humor. He makes a quiet joke, but he never draws attention to it.
Rafael leads me to the backyard where he shows me the enclosure he’s built. Carefully, he pulls back the netting, pausing to explain, “He’s a Carolina box turtle.”
I look down to see a turtle plodding along the grass with a yellow and brown pattern on his back. He’s kind of cute with his long neck and dark eyes. “Can I touch him?”
He nods. “Gently. The same way you can feel it when someone presses on your fingernail, he can feel it when you touch his shell. And don’t try to pick him up. He doesn’t like that.”
When Rafael has finished with his instructions, I reach out and touch the shell. It’s hard and cold beneath my fingertips, reminding me of a stone.
Herbert blinks up at me, seemingly unaffected by my presence.
“He’s lovely. What happened to his shell?” There’s a jagged line bisecting it.
“Not sure. Probably a bird picked him up and dropped him. I found the little guy on the side of the road and managed to get him back into good health. But he’s no longer strong enough to be on his own.”
“You found him on the side of the road,” I say softly, my attention snagged on that detail.
“He was alone like me,” Rafe says and immediately ducks his head as if he didn’t mean to reveal that detail about himself.
My heart hurts for this mountain man. While he snored last night, I searched through the cabin for clues about him. I couldn’t find family pictures or photo albums. Nothing to tell me who Rafael is or where he comes from. It made me sad for him.
I’ve grown up in a kingdom where my ancestors’ portraits hang on the walls. I’ve spent my life being taught about my history, my lineage, where I come from. I know who I am. I know who those were before me. I feel their presence and carry them with me.