Despite the fact I never wanted to sleep in that horridly yellow stained bed again it was either that or the barn and I much preferred the later. Oliver checked my head before bed and said I was making a speedy recovery though regretted the fact I would forever have a gash on the side of my head, marked permanently, but all I was concerned about was the fact that my hair in that spot would never grow back over the scar. I didn't like thinking about it. I dreamt that I was running through a maze made of emerald and the bullies from school were cackling like old witches and chasing me with spindly arms outstreached. I awoke in a cold sweat and slept fitfully till dawn. I was relieved when Isolda came into the room to fetch me early in preparing breakfast and packing lunch. More than once I messed up and burned the bread in the fireheated oven but I was glad to be up in the cold morning and let the smoky flames chase away my brain fog. "Stop dillydallying girl! Stoke the embers!"

I wiped the soot from my fingers and picked up the poker stick and did what she told me but by this point I was getting tired of squatting and letting the heat of the fire dry out my already dry eyes, not to mention my glasses were so hot I thought they might melt right off my face. I stoked the fire dutifully then stood up slowly.

"I can't take squatting down like this anymore, mind If I help make the sandwiches Mrs. Woodford?" Isolda didn't seem pleased but she agreed to it, although she watched me with her hawks eye.

"Made you something Myra dear," I turned from packing the lunches with Isolda and faced Oliver who had woken and trudged into the kitchen fully dressed in his forester outfit, "well, I um, made ya some boots." He grabbed what he was hiding behind his back and placed two small sturdy boots on the table. Even though they were homemade I found them to fit my feet perfectly. "How did you know my size?"

Oliver grinned mischeviosly, "Yer dirty shoes where a perfect model."

I couldn't help but crack up, I could hear Isolda swaying in laughter behind me too.

I placed five baskets of food on the table, covered by large cloth napkins with Isolda filling two what she called "water-skins" up with water and what I guessed was some kind of alcohol when I heard Oliver curse just outside in frustration. I peered through the door in the old soddy house to see the old yeoman hammering away with a big wooden mallet; and unsuccessfully, trying to fix a fence post.

I had finished helping Isolda and the rising warm sun had washed away my earlier frustration with the fire and I whistled a tune, walking up to him in a lazy stride.

"Can I help you?"

He simply just gave me a look and then ran his hand roughly through his long hair, tugging irritably at the tangles. He inspected his work and I quickly saw what the problem was, the delicate mesh meant to cover up the gaps in between posts was all bent and warped and the nails attaching them was bent and some hammered in so much the hole was wider than the nail. I smiled. It seemed Oliver was very impatient when it came to delicate repetitive work. I looked around and found a split stick and working the nails out, placed them on the ground.

I was about to the remove the mesh when he stopped me.

"What are ya doin' lass? This job in't meant for you."

I blinked up at him, squinting in the sun, the leaves sounding like rushing water and waving in the wind like a golden shower. "Whatever do you mean?"

Oliver looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted and buds were growing on my head.

He echoed my question, "Whatever do you mean?" he sighed and then sat on the round hill that dipped to the forest not too far from the house; patting the ground for me to do the same. Confused I simply just sat beside him and waited.

The minutes ticked by and I glanced sidelong at him, his eyes stayed fixed on the grassy hills and the Castle beyond. I looked to where he did and waited some more.

"Your hair is so dark, like the wing of a raven."

I startled and quickly turned to him.

His steely sharp brown eyes that sparkled with a youthful light that didn't match his appearance made me unnerved. He seemed so alive, so, so, so, what was the word? Fulfilled? It didn't matter. I could only wish to be that strong and grounded. Something like that is and forever will be impossible. I shook the wretched feeling growing in me away. I have to be strong, get it together! I told myself.

Oliver; with a sageious air, folded his arms across his broad chest and began speaking.

"It is not for a lady to do the work of a man. I understand that you are not from Kardesh or any surrounding state so far I can see, but-"

I shot to my feet in confusion and trepidation. What does he mean by that?

"What do you mean do the work of a man? I just wanted to help you. Fixing a fence is not an only mans job. I'm a lot stronger than I look." Oliver raised his hand for silence and tried to continue but I plunged on. "Is it because you don't believe I can do a good job? I am too young and don't understand. Immature? Ignorant?" I knew I was going beyond the issue and blowing it up but I couldn't help my anger as it grew from something deep within me.

"I am just a stupid, young, retarted kid right? Who can't handle responsibility yeah? but get this:

I have been beaten and bloodied, gotten stitches, broken my nose, cracked a rib and walked it off perfectly fine, gone to school the exact same day and come home to a filthy apartment with nothing but beer bottles and cockroaches for company. SO DO NOT tell me that I am just a child or a young lady, delicate and naive,who can't handle a little work!"

I blinked and sucked in a sharp breath. Oliver was still sitting calmly whereas I, had been standing and shaking in blinding anger and yelling at him. I blushed every shade of red and hung my head in shame. I sat down again choked and speechless with embarrassment. I dared not lift my head. I bunched my hands in the grass to keep them from shaking. The silence was deafening, could have been a few moments or an eternity but when he finally did speak he said simply, "look at me."

I shook my head, my hair falling in my face, covering my glasses that collected my tears. "Look at me Myra." he spoke so sofly but with a power so compelling and full of feeling I near choked out a cry.

I swallowed hard and looked up slowly wanting to sink into the grass and get devoured by the mountains and forest.

I looked anywhere but his eyes. I knew that if I looked I would die. He stretched out his hand, palm up. His scarred rough hands, gnarly, large and dirty with thick callouses for me too see. "Look Myra, these are my hands." he gently opened my palm and rested it next to his. "And these are yours." my small rosy pale hand looked so slender and fragile next to his big one. I didn't have scars or thick callouses. "I would never let yer hands become like mine. I am proud of my work even if it is hard. But that is what it is. My work. I will always complete it because it is my duty. It is my job that demands my hands. I protect with these old hands o' mine. But you," he paused and I finally looked up. The sheer tenderness and compassion in his gaze made everything spill over. He continued as I cried. " yer special. With a role unlike mine. Hard and grueling in a different way than me. And with a reward that will fill you like it does me. Here in Baron Knolends Lands it us men who serve. A lady has far more importance and value than hard labor. If you feel the need to work and provide for yerself than we have failed. Myra,"

He smiled sadly at me. "It pains me to see you like this my dear. I don' know where ya are from nor what life has been like for ye. But while you are here please let me take care o' you."

He stretched out his arms and I all but collapsed into them. I can't recall how long he held me but his warmth was comforting, like if he continued to squeeze me tightly all my pieces would fit back together again and I'd never break. It was like a quiet promise.

"OLLLLIEEEEEEEE!" We both jerked and he let go. We stood and brushed the grass and pine needles off our clothes and feeling so much lighter we started down the little hill. "How long does it take to fix that ol' fence huh? We must head out on tha road now or we'll never make it before next light! Baltor has saddled Vern already and Myra has to change." Oliver said nothing, smiled and reached for his wife, dipping her and lifting her hand to his chest, kissed her soundly on the lips.

I covered my mouth and laughed at Isoldas blushing and sputtering.

"Ollie! How dare you!" but she was smiling. 

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thanks for reading~