Hey everyone, I’m trying to be more intentional about my writing. So all of you can hold me accountable. The next book in my Finding Home series is almost done. I’m setting the Release Date for June 30th 2016! If you read the first book: The Orphan’s Journey, then you’ll like the continuation of the story in: The Lost Brother.
Thank you to everyone who’s supported me through this long process of writing and editing. I hope y’all enjoy the new book! And as a gift to you, here is a sneak peek of the newly revised 1st Chapter!
Chapter 1
A Lost Home
“The rich rule over the poor,
and the borrower is servant to the lender.”
Proverbs 22:7
The small town of Hampton was full of life as the salty air rushed by in the afternoon breeze. The stalls of vendors reeked of fish and mollusks from the day’s catch. The sounds of haggling mixed with the shouts of children who were playing hide and seek amongst the crowd.
War, it would seem, could not touch this place. This rural fishing community with its squat little cottages spread across the rolling hills was too far removed from the rest of the country to get caught up in any of its recent excitement.
Unlike the other children playing hide and seek, Josiah was neither smiling nor laughing. He set the heavy water bucket down for a minute to catch his breath. It was a long climb from the village well back to the breezy hillside where he now lived. He studied the imposing stone structure for a minute, so different from the home he had grown up in. He tried to remember instead the old cottage, with the kitchen fire bringing warmth and light to the whole family. He could still picture each of his brothers’ smiling faces. That’s how he remembered them; always smiling, always having fun.
Josiah shook the image from his head and found himself staring at the full bucket. No, I shouldn’t be thinking about them. Everyone says I can’t change what happened and I should be thankful for what I have. A sigh escaped his lips. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for the family that had taken him in, now that he was an orphan, but still things would never be the same.
“Josiah? Are you going to dawdle all day or are you going to fetch me that water?” a loud voice echoed down to him.
“Coming!” Josiah replied, trying to sound respectful. He flexed his fingers and again took hold of the rough handle.
The large woman with dark brown eyes who met him at the door could have been pleasant to look at if she wasn’t constantly frowning. She glared down at Josiah with her permanent frown planted squarely on her fat face. She crossed her arms, “What took you so long? A grumpy old donkey could move faster than you.”
Josiah’s eyes fell to the ground. “Sorry, Margaret.”
“It’s Lady Margaret to you!” she said with a huff. “How many times do I have to remind you? You’re such a dunce. Now hand over that water bucket.”
Josiah handed the bucket to the waiting servant and reluctantly took another empty bucket from the floor. “Yes, Lady Margaret.”
“Now be quick with this one. No more lollygagging, got it?”
Josiah nodded and turned back down the large hill. He hurried along, willing his legs to move faster than he felt was possible.
An hour later, Lady Margaret, finally satisfied with the amount of water Josiah had collected, released him from his chores. “I shall be indisposed for an hour, but I expect you to be back here when I am through. Do you understand?”
Josiah nodded. “Yes, Lady Margaret.”
“Good.” Lady Margaret shut the door.
Josiah sighed and turned to face the sea. This was his favorite time. Lady Margaret, for all her faults, also had a love for long baths that allowed Josiah a precious hour of freedom. He skipped down the hill’s worn path toward his best friend’s home.
A sturdy little cottage covered with flowers came into view. The woman of the house loved to garden, and the sweet scents overpowered the salty sea air around the home. Vines covered with little purple flowers climbed all over the stone walls, while window boxes overflowed with yellow and pink blossoms.
Josiah smiled to himself and called out, “Alex?”
A woman’s thin face popped out from behind a bush teeming with little pink flowers. “He’ll be out in a minute Josiah. He’s washing the dishes for me.”
Josiah grinned back at the woman’s kind face. “You need any help Holly?”
Thin strands of her brown hair swayed as Holly shook her head. “Not today. I’m almost done.”
Josiah nodded and began to wander through the various flowers while he waited. As he watched the bees hum from one bloom to the next, he finally felt a sense of peace. Compared to the dark stone mansion where he now lived, this place felt like heaven. Why couldn’t Alex’s family have adopted me? We’re already like brothers.
Josiah sighed because he knew why. Though Alex’s family was generous, there was a limit to the help they could give. They could barely keep up with feeding their own children. In comparison, Lady Margaret and Lord Gregory had a surplus and no children to care for. Even though Josiah felt more like a servant than a son in their home, he couldn’t complain. He had food to eat, a bed to sleep in, and a roof over his head.
“Hey Josiah!”
Josiah turned to see Alex wipe a wad of soap bubbles out of his tangled brown hair. “You done with soap duty?”
“Yeah, you done with bucket duty?”
Josiah rubbed his calloused hands. “Yeah, for today anyway.”
“You want to go to the beach?”
“Actually, I was thinking of… you know.”
Alex shrugged. “Sure, we can go there today.”
“Well let’s go then! I only have an hour you know,” Josiah said as he sprinted toward an old dirt path.
Alex picked up a smooth walking stick and swung it over his head. “I’ll get ye yet ya slippery eel!”
“You’ll have to catch me first!” Josiah called over his shoulder. He darted through the forest, ducking under low limbs and jumping over thick tree roots like a wild animal. Then he dived behind a bush and waited for Alex to catch up.
Five minutes later Alex came up the path poking his stick into several bushes. He stopped and called out, “Alright, you can stop hiding now Josiah. I’m tired of this game.”
Josiah grinned as he watched Alex and mimicked a bird’s sharp whistle.
Alex sat down and crossed his arms. “I’m not playing anymore Josiah. You always win.” He waited for an answer and poked his long stick into the thick foliage. “At least give me a hint!” Alex searched a bit longer than threw his stick down. “Ugh, you’re no fun. I’m going home.”
Josiah suddenly sprang out of the bush he had been hiding in and tackled Alex to the ground. “Got you!” he said triumphantly.
Alex pushed him off. “No fair! You didn’t even give me a hint that time.”
Josiah sat up with a grin. “Sure I did. Didn’t you hear the bird calls?”
Alex tilted his head to the side. “That was you?”
Josiah winked.
“It’s not fair,” Alex pouted. “I never got special lessons about being quiet in the woods.”
Josiah frowned. “Yeah, well, just be glad it wasn’t you.”
“Come on, tell me about it.”
Josiah shook his head to dislodge the image that had popped into his brain of a man with feathers sticking out of his dark hair.
“Please,” Alex whined.
“Cut it out Alex. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But I’m your best friend! You can share your secrets with me.”
Josiah stood up with a grunt. “Come on, let’s go to the house, I don’t have much time left.”
Alex got up reluctantly.
The two boys scurried through the woods and soon broke into a clearing. They raced up the familiar path that led to a well-worn cottage in the distance.
“Are you still planning on living here one day?” Alex asked.
“Of course, we’re going to be neighbors. I’ll live in my cottage, and we’ll build you another one right… there.” Josiah pointed to an uncommon spot of level ground.
“I wish you could live here now,” Alex sighed. “Then we could play all the time… like before.”
“Like when we were kids.”
“What are you talking about? We’re both ten. We are kids,” Alex said, a bit confused. Then he laughed. “Except when I’m doing dishes, then I’m just like a real adult.”
Josiah shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, you’re a real grown up now.”
Alex hit Josiah in the stomach playfully. “Hey, it’s a start.”
“Yeah well, don’t be in a hurry. Being an adult isn’t that great. Trust me.”
Alex stared at his friend with concern. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind.”
“One of these days Josiah, you’re going to tell me what happened to you.”
Josiah studied the ground and kept silent.
Alex sat down with a huff and stared out at the ocean. “It is a nice view though. I can see why you like it up here.”
Josiah nodded, but he turned to look at the cottage instead. He closed his eyes and imagined his family standing there with him.
“Guess you have to go home now,” Alex muttered.
Josiah’s eyes snapped open and he glanced at where the sun was in the sky. “Oh no, I’m going to be late,” he groaned.
“Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Alex said as he stood up and wiped dirt off his hands and onto his pants.
Josiah nodded glumly but didn’t move; he didn’t want his hour of bliss to end.
Alex headed for the worn path that led to his home and turned to wave. “You better hurry Josiah!” he called.
Josiah lifted his hand in farewell and watched as his friend disappeared into the trees. “Bye,” he said under his breath. He took one last look at the snug little cottage then took off at a sprint, heading for the cold stone manor that he now reluctantly called home. He arrived out of breath and as he suspected, late. He could hear Lady Margaret mumbling to herself through the door. He couldn’t make out the words, but she sounded irritated. Part of Josiah wanted to turn and run away. I could just leave, never look back. I could just live on my own…. But something held him there, for though the situation was almost unbearable, being alone seemed far worse.
“I can hear you breathing,” Lady Margaret said loudly. “Get in here now!”
“Too late now,” Josiah muttered to himself. He pulled the door open and walked into the dimly-lit manor.
“You’re late,” Lady Margaret said with quiet impatience.
“Sorry,” Josiah mumbled.
“You don’t even have an excuse this time?”
Josiah shook his head.
“Gregory is not going to like this.”
Josiah cringed.
Lady Margaret smiled with satisfaction. “Go wash up now, dinner is ready.”
Josiah nodded and sulked over to the washbasin. He rinsed his hands slowly, his mind racing, wondering which punishment Lord Gregory would inflict on him this evening.
Just then, Gregory’s oversized body squeezed in through the door. “Ah, it’s good to come home to a warm meal,” he said happily. “What’s this I smell Margaret? Could it be lamb?”
Margaret laughed. “No, guess again.”
Gregory’s heavy footsteps caused the stone walls to echo with loud thumps as he made his way to the table.
Josiah frowned at the large muddy tracks scarring the freshly polished floor. Great, guess my punishment will be cleaning that floor again.
Gregory inhaled deeply, moving the thick brown hairs of his mustache. “Hmm, perhaps venison is our treat of the evening.”
Margaret shook her head. “Come now, stop being so extravagant.”
Gregory frowned and rubbed his scruffy beard. “We’re not having chicken again, are we?”
Margaret nodded. “Unfortunately, when we have more mouths to feed the delicacies give way to the practical.” She eyed Josiah accusingly.
Josiah avoided her gaze and took his seat. It’s not like I wanted you to take me in either.
Gregory sighed. “I was hoping for something else, but at least it’s not fish.” As he sat at the head of the table, his massive chair gave a groan.
A servant rushed in with a platter of steaming chicken and another followed with a platter of rolls. The two servants rushed in and out of the kitchen, carrying dish after dish of delectable food.
Gregory began tearing into a chicken leg and several rolls before the whole meal was even on the table.
Margaret sat delicately in her own chair and began picking out several choice berries and a slice of chicken breast.
Josiah sat still as a statue, waiting for them both to begin eating. He had come to the understanding that the more his presence went unnoticed, the better. Once the two had finished serving themselves, he grabbed a few leftovers and nibbled at them quietly.
As Gregory started on his second helping of food, Margaret cleared her throat.
Gregory ignored her as he kept eating.
A servant refilled Margaret’s glass, but she cleared her throat again, more loudly this time. When her husband still ignored her, she raised her voice. “Gregory.”
Gregory made eye contact but refused to stop eating.
“We’ve had another unfortunate mistake that needs correcting.”
Gregory rolled his eyes and swallowed. “What is it this time?” he moaned.
Margaret locked eyes on Josiah. “Our dear little boy has refused to follow directions again. He needs to be disciplined.”
Gregory glanced at Josiah with annoyance. “Can’t you go one day without getting in trouble?”
Josiah’s eyes dropped to his plate.
“Apparently not,” Margaret said with distaste. “It’s a pity that we have to deal with all his childishness. His parents really should have done a better job of raising him.”
Josiah glanced up at Lady Margaret, stunned. He felt like crying and yelling in rage at the same time, but nothing came out of his dry throat.
“Margaret,” Gregory said calmly. “There’s no need to bring that up. It’s not like he could help it.”
Margaret sniffed and went back to cutting her chicken into bite-sized pieces. “Well, he still needs to be punished. I won’t allow his uncouth behavior in my house.”
“Fine,” Gregory said quietly. “Then he won’t sleep in your house tonight, how’s that?”
Margaret gave a quick nod of approval and went back to eating.
Josiah glanced up at Lord Gregory. “So where will I sleep tonight?”
Gregory’s face softened; he almost looked apologetic. “In the barn.”
Josiah stared back at his plate of food.
“What do you say?” Margaret said with an air of satisfaction.
“Yes, sir,” Josiah said with as little emotion as possible.
* * * * *
Josiah stepped into the weather-beaten barn. The small lantern in his hand illuminated the damp quarters, revealing several stalls where quiet animals stood staring back at him. It was more unnerving in the dark than it ever was when he had to feed the animals in the light of day. Josiah clung to the thick blanket in his other hand and took a deep breath. “Alright, nothing to be afraid of in here,” he tried to reassure himself.
The wooden panels creaked as a sharp gust of wind came in from the sea. Little streams of air whistled through the cracks in the siding.
Josiah gulped and took another step inside. He jumped as the wind slammed the door shut behind him. Calm down. It’s just wind, it can’t hurt me. He settled down on the damp hay of an empty stall and snuggled in his thick blanket. Josiah wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep in the dark barn, but he tried to get comfortable anyway.
* * * * *
Josiah’s was running through the forest but his legs began to give out. Then he stumbled over a rock and tumbled into a shallow creek bed. He landed on his back and before he knew it, a boot had pinned him to the soft wet ground. Josiah stared helplessly at Harold’s terrifying face, and knew nothing he could say would deter this monster.
“You’ve done it now,” Harold gloated. “I gave you a chance, you know I did. But now it’s too late. I really shouldn’t have let you live this long.”
Josiah closed his eyes.
Suddenly the pressure of Harold’s boot lessened. “What the?”
A twang reverberated through the forest, and Josiah opened his eyes to see Harold with an arrow sticking out of his chest.
Harold stood with a surprised look on his face for a second and without another word tumbled over, dead.
Josiah was too stunned to move, he stared at the arrow, then slowly sat up and looked around the woods frantically.
It wasn’t until the stranger was ten feet away that Josiah saw him. He was a young man who wore odd clothing and had two feathers sticking out of his dark brown hair. He approached Josiah slowly, barely making a sound. He was neither smiling nor frowning but was studying Josiah with keen inquisitive eyes.
* * * * *
Josiah’s heart was pounding as he opened his eyes. He sat up and looked around the shabby barn. It was just a dream, it’s not real. He tried to breathe slowly. It was just another stupid nightmare. Gradually his heart’s quick beats began to slow. He lay back down and tried to get comfortable but he couldn’t fall asleep. So he did what he always did; he started picturing his father, then his mother, and proceeded to each of his brothers, finally ending on the one person who wasn’t dead, but had left him anyway. He visualized the man with the feathers again. Why? Why did you leave me here? Why does everyone have to leave me?
NovelSisters 