by Frost Kay
“That day is still far off.” He studied her for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “It’s written all over your face. If you need to say something, just say it.”
If only it was that easy. Her stomach churned. “It’s about the blending…”
Her papa’s rocking ceased; all her brothers seemed to be holding their breath. It had been a sensitive subject in their home since Matt had died. Slowly, he began his rocking while staring up at the dark night sky.
“What about it?” he drawled.
“It’s tomorrow.”
“True. Your decision is made?”
Her shoulders slumped. The fate of her community rested in her hands, and yet, all she wanted to do was hide from it. “I haven’t chosen,” she whispered.
“Aaron informed me of that today, baby girl.” His tone held unspoken words.
“And?” she said warily. Aaron was her papa’s favorite.
“He’s concerned that you haven’t accepted an offer.”
Brent scoffed. “No, he’s concerned that you haven’t picked him. He was tattling.”
“Aaron’s a good man,” her papa replied. “He’s serious, dedicated, smart, and comes from a good family. Hazel would be lucky to marry him.”
“He’s not a man,” she mumbled, staring at the faded slats of wood covering the porch. That was the problem. They were boys. They fought and worked like men, but at the end of the day, their immaturity shone through. How could she entrust them with the safety of all their people?
“What was that?”
She winced at her papa’s tone. He hated when she mumbled.
Hazel inhaled and straightened, meeting his narrowed gaze head on. “They’re not men, Papa. They’re boys parading around like men.” She lifted a finger. “One, they don’t have any work ethic. Sure, they perform their duties, but do any of them go above and beyond what’s necessary?”
He nodded. “They do what they can, but that’s something that comes with age, with time.”
Time, they didn’t have.
“Be that as it may, you’ve instilled this in all your children. You can’t tell me it’s an age thing. I was more responsible at the age of eight.”
“Showoff,” Brent muttered.
Her papa turned his glare on Brent. “Knock it off. This is serious.”
When his attention turned back to her, Hazel held up a second finger. “Two, none of them understand our people. They segregate themselves into groups. How can they rule justly when they hold a skewed view of certain people?”
“They must learn, change, and adapt. That’s what it means to be part of Harbor.”
“Do you think that’s really possible?” She didn’t. She’d grown up with them. People tended to keep the views ingrained into them as children.
“With the love of a good woman, anything is possible. Your mama made me a better man.”
Her throat tightened. There it was. The subtle jab that it was her responsibility to change them, to be the better person and teach them, to be like her mama, but she was nothing like her mama. Her mama had been bubbly and charismatic. People sought her out and wanted to be her friend. People ignored Hazel.
“That brings me to my last point. You and Mama loved each other. You made each other better.”
“What of it?” he asked roughly.
“That’s not my future. I’ll be attaching myself to a complete stranger.” Hazel paused and pushed on: “I take that back. A stranger might not loathe me on sight, but I’ve grown up with these boys. How can I accept one with how they’ve treated me? They won’t treat me any different once we’re married.”
Her papa stilled. “They’ll treat you with the respect you deserve, or they’ll suffer the consequences.”
“Damn straight,” Jake chimed in.
Hazel appreciated their sentiment, but it wouldn’t help anything. “And you expect them to be faithful?”
“You need to believe they will be. If they don’t, they will deal with me,” her papa said with quiet menace.
She chuckled. “Positive thinking? When has that ever helped? All three of them don’t care for me. My peers have teased and tormented me. These boys joined in or stood by idly, doing nothing. Now, I’m just supposed to hope they’ll change who they are?”
Her words hung in the air as her papa scrutinized her.
“Hazel, you’re a good girl. You always have been, and this is a difficult choice. But it’s a choice you need to make. There’s no alternative.”
“If I waited another year…” She trailed off at the black look on her papa’s face.
“We are not having this discussion. Don’t bring it up again.” He threw his hands in the air and pushed from his chair. “You have a duty to our people.”
“I understand, Papa,” she said softly. “I’m not trying to get out of anything. It’s my duty to marry, but I can’t help but think waiting another year would be better.”
“You’ve already pushed it back a year.” His tan face softened a touch. “I granted you that since Matt had just died.”
“Don’t bring Matt into this. This isn’t about him. This is about our people and what’s best for them.”
“And you understand what’s best for our people? You who hides in the fields and isolates herself from the people you’ll be working with in the future? How would you know?” He leaned a hip against the porch railing, causing it to groan. “This isn’t about Harbor. This is about you.”
Hazel gazed back at him evenly. He was partly right. She worked in the fields so she could avoid certain people, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know the people. She was always lending a helping hand when there was a need. Rarely was she thanked, or remembered, but she remembered each person, remembered their stories, and their families.
“It’s my blending. It should be about me. This is my life we’re talking about. This choice decides who I will spend the rest of my life with.”
He shook his head, frowning. “How are you so different?”
“What?”
“You’re nothing like your mama. I don’t understand it.”
All the air seemed to be knocked from her lungs. Heat burned at the back of her eyes and her throat tightened. She dropped her head. That was a low blow. Hazel was acutely aware of how different she was from her mama. Her mama had been outspoken and loved in a way Hazel longed for. A bitter laugh slipped out. The things she learned were because of other people. Her papa barely spoke about her.
A dark, ugly thing rose inside her. She’d always been compared to her mama growing up. No one outright said anything to her, but their whispers followed her all the same.
“How would I know?” she found herself whispering.
“What was that? Speak up, Hazel. I hate mumbling.”
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I said, ‘How would I know?’”
He stayed silent. Silent like he always did when her mama was brought up. That was the last straw. Her composure broke, and a rush of words flew from her mouth. “How could I ever know what she was like when you never speak of her? Mama died!”
Her papa flinched, but she continued: “But you’re the one who took her from me. Once she died, it was like you tried to erase her presence from our lives. The boys have memories of her, but I have almost none. Sometimes, I can’t even remember what her face looked like.”
She rose from her chair, her arms trembling. “So, if I’m nothing like her, it’s on you. Don’t blame me for something that wasn’t in my power.” Her fingers curled into fists. “I love you, but don’t you dare judge me. Who I am is a product of your guidance and my decisions. If you don’t like it, then blame yourself.”
Hazel avoided her brothers’ gazes as she moved around them and descended the stairs. She paused at the bottom and turned to stare at her brothers. She loved them, but why did they keep silent? Why did no one say anything? Again, that ugly feeling welled up.
“It’s a good thing Mama isn’t here. If she was, I would
n’t be the only one she would be disappointed in.”
Turning on her heel, she strode away into the darkness. Part of her hoped the darkness would swallow her whole, so she could disappear forever. She skirted around the quiet homes and made her way toward the southern entrance.
You’re nothing like her. A tear dripped down her face. Her papa had never said it so plainly before, and it cut deep.
Hazel angrily brushed it off, spying the little tool shed where she kept her weapons. She glanced around through watering eyes and pushed against the heavy, rusted door. It swung inward on silent hinges.
She closed the door, dousing the room in complete darkness. The shed didn’t have any windows, but that didn’t deter her. Carefully, she edged around a table full of tools and squished between two tall metal shelves. Her fingertips brushed the wall and gently probed until her finger slipped into a little hole. She crooked her finger and pulled. The section of wall pulled out just enough to reveal the cubby where she stashed some of her weapons.
A small smile curled her lips as her hand settled on her sleek Glock 40 and thigh holster. She swallowed hard as she slipped it through her belt loops, and then clasped it around her leg. The weapon had been a gift from her family when she’d come of age. It had been her mother’s. Every time she put it on, it was like receiving a hug from her mama.
You’re nothing like her.
Bitterness soured her belly as her papa’s words echoed through her mind. Maybe she could have been if he hadn’t tried to erase every piece of Mama from her life.
She closed the cubby and snatched her bow and quiver from the metal shelf, slinging them over her shoulder. It never hurt to have extra weapons—not that she’d know; she’d never been outside the walls. Her papa and brothers had taught her how to use various weapons, but that was as far as it went. The closest she’d been to danger was when a mutated rattlesnake had surprised her. She’d blown its head off. She’d been proud of herself at the time. Little did she know she’d basically rung a dinner bell. Mutated predators from every direction had raced toward Harbor, all because of a darn snake. That was part of the reason their men hunted with bows and traps. They were quiet. Guns were a last resort.
She slipped out of the shed and closed the door. Maybe she’d find a sneaky hare in the garden. Hare stew was always a favorite in their home. A brisk walk and a good hunt was what she needed to calm down. A fist seemed to close around her throat at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. She exhaled and pushed her shoulders back. Tomorrow would be here soon enough. No need to borrow trouble.
She swung around the corner and jerked to a stop, stifling a shriek. Jo was lounging against the wall of the shed, one foot crossed over the other, looking like the epitome of casualness.
“What are you doing?” she whispered harshly, her heart racing in her chest.
He met her eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Checking on you.” A shrug.
Part of her warmed that he cared, but another part iced even further. Suspicion had her narrowing her eyes as she stepped closer to him. “Did Papa send you?”
He scowled at her and shook his head. “No, he didn’t. We were worried about you.”
Heat built behind her eyes. “You’ve a funny way of showing it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded softly.
Hurt and anger pushed to the forefront. “You said nothing,” she choked out. “None of you did.”
“What would you have us say? We all have a role to play to survive, Hazel. Nothing we could’ve said would’ve changed the decision you’re required to make.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Jo.”
“I’ve never heard you speak to Papa that way.” He straightened and pushed off the wall. “You were cruel.” His tone held disappointment. “You’ve never been a cruel girl. You’re better than that.”
She gaped at him, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I was cruel?” she gasped. “How dare you! You heard what he said.”
“He shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
“No, he shouldn’t have.” Her papa’s words seemed to be playing in a loop in her mind. You’re nothing like her. New hurt washed through her. She already knew she was different, that she’d never be able to fill her mama’s shoes. She didn’t need her papa pointing it out.
“Fighting won’t make the pain go away, and tonight’s the last night we have together as a family before we have to welcome in your new husband. Don’t let an argument ruin your last night. Papa knows he was out of line. Go make peace and let him fix this.” He placed both of his hands on top of her shoulders. “And apologize. You both said hurtful things.”
The hurt part of her balked at apologizing when her papa was the one in the wrong, but Jo’s advice was wise. She’d need her papa’s council in the coming months. Leading their community was no easy task. She swallowed hard and tipped her head back to meet her brother’s gaze. “I will, but I need to go on a walk to clear my head.”
He nodded and pulled her into a rough hug. “I understand. You always seem to do better when you get out of these walls.” He squeezed her. “I love you so much, Hazel. We all do. Tomorrow will be a hard day, but don’t forget, you’ve made us proud.”
Her lip quivered at his heartfelt sentiment. God, she loved her brothers.
Jo released her and stepped back. His gaze dropped to the gun at her thigh. “I hate that you go past the wall after dark.”
She sighed and adjusted her quiver. “Joss won’t let me out if there’s been danger. I’m always careful. You know I’m not reckless.”
“And for that, I’m thankful.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head. He pulled a knife from his waist and laid a sheathed blade onto her palm. “Just in case.”
She almost rolled her eyes. She already had two of her own knives, but she knew he meant well. Carefully, she attached the blade to her belt loop and lifted a brow. “Happy now?”
“Immensely. The fanatics from that cult called Bayhound have been leveling some threats against Harbor, so keep an eye out.”
She gasped. “What? When did this happen? We’re at peace with them.”
“A couple of days ago. Apparently, a group of Tainted crossed paths with them right before last time we traded. They only arrived with half of what they promised, so we traded for that and went home.”
Her brows furrowed. “Then what’s the problem?”
“They expected a full payment from us.”
Understanding dawned. “They expected you to pay the full price for only half the goods?”
He chuckled bitterly. “Since they sent all the goods, they believe they should receive the full payment.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. It’s not our fault they weren’t able to protect their convoy, and it’s not like we cheated them.”
“That’s not how they see it.”
“Idiots,” she muttered. People were so dumb sometimes. “Has Papa begun negotiations?”
“I believe he was thinking it over when you dropped your bomb tonight.”
She winced, then planted her hands on her hips. “If someone had told me what’s going on, I would have approached the conversation differently.”
“Doubtful, but this conversation can wait.” He lifted his chin to the wall. “Be safe, and make peace with Papa before you go to bed. He’s stewing on the porch already.”
A chuckle escaped her. He always stewed on the porch when he said something stupid and guilt plagued him. Well, at least he felt as wretched as she did. “Is he pacing or rocking?”
“Rocking.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. Her papa really felt bad then. That was something. She’d let him stew a little and then bring a rabbit home as a peace offering. Hazel focused back on her brother when he began to back away.
“Tell Joss hello and that he owes me a game of chess. I’ll see you later, sis.”
“Will do,” she said.
“And, Hazel
…?”
She glanced at her brother. “Yeah?”
He smiled at her while walking backwards. “You’re kind, compassionate, and honorable, just like Mama. You’re more like her than you could ever guess. I think that’s what scares Papa the most. You have all of her softness, but none of her hardness and anger at the world, and that’s okay. That’s how Mama would’ve wanted it. You’re exactly what Harbor needs.”
Hazel swallowed hard and blinked back the tears at his unexpected praise. “Love you,” she croaked.
“Ditto.” He winked at her and then spun on his heel like he hadn’t just given her the best gift she’d received in a long time.
Hazel wiped at the corners of her eyes just in case any stray tears decided to sneak out, and smiled at her brother’s retreating back. Having a family hurt, but it also healed. Lost in her thoughts, she meandered toward the wall. Jo’s kind words helped soothe the hurt, but didn’t remove the sting of her papa’s words. Jo might have thought Harbor needed kindness, but the truth was apparent. They needed someone strong. Someone with grit. She’d have to dig deep and give them what they needed.
Six
Hazel
The blending, a drought, and possible war.
Things seemed to all pile up at once. When it rains, it pours, her grandma used to say. The Bayhound settlement wasn’t anything they wanted to mess around with. Their ideologies were built on cleanliness and purity. Cleanliness to the point that if someone dropped a piece of food on the floor, that person was severely beaten, and as for purity … well, only certain bloodlines were approved to mix. They were useful to have as allies, but as enemies? She shuddered.
She rounded a corner and shook off her unease when a small light lifted, casting a soft glow on the rickety-looking stairs. Picking up her pace, she pushed aside her thoughts for later and jogged up the stairs toward Joss. The warm breeze ruffled her hair when she reached the top, pulling a smile from her. There was something freeing about standing thirty feet in the air. The fist around her lungs eased a little. Her papa, the blending, and panic didn’t seem too bad up here when she could see the dips and crests of the valley.