“I assume it’s also good fortune that I prefer the four-string over the five string,” Lloyd said. “That’s one less string to worry about.”
Lloyd was not the only one with healing to do. Randi had broken several ribs in her scrape with Valentine. For several weeks she couldn’t do much other than sit around. To pass the time, she worked with Ariel on the art project she’d mentioned to her earlier. They didn’t tell anyone what they were doing. Each day they’d spend a few hours together in the barn. Afterward, they’d cover their project with an old pink bed sheet and come back to the house.
When Randi finally felt well enough to get around, she finished the trip she’d set out on with Buddy and Lloyd. The three of them, along with Charlotte, took the day-long trip to Randi’s home and back. Randi could tell that her brother had not been there in some time. His gear was there and that seemed to tell the story. She assumed him to be dead and she could only hope that he’d taken some of the Crosses with him. She was not going to pay the Crosses a visit and check. She was calling an end to that battle, for now anyway. She needed some peace and some healing. She needed some time to mourn.
Chapter 63
The Valley
The day after her trip to her old home, Randi and Ariel gathered their tribe for an outing. They brought together Jim’s family, Gary’s family, Lloyd, and Buddy. They would not tell anyone what they were doing, only that they were going on a picnic and would have to walk for several miles. The children would ride on horseback with one being utilized as a pack horse. Despite it being a picnic, everyone carried their preferred weapons.
Randi asked Jim to borrow one of his large backpacking packs. She and Ariel packed their project into it, then closed it up without revealing it to anyone.
They followed the creek, then the road, and eventually found themselves at the edge of town. Ariel didn’t know exactly which way to go, so Randi took over, leading them to the cemetery.
“I ain’t so sure about this,” Buddy said.
Ariel took his hand and tugged on it. “You have to come, Mr. Buddy. You have to.”
Torn, he relented. He smiled at her. “Whatever you say, sweetie.”
Randi led the way, with Ariel behind her tugging Buddy. The rest of the crew followed behind, still unsure as to what was going on. Randi led them to the smooth plot of unmarked dirt that marked the final resting place of Buddy’s daughter.
Buddy paused and took his hat off, staggered by the wave of memories. The rest of the men took their hats off as well, out of respect. They all gathered around Buddy, patting his back and offering their support.
“What’s this all about, Ariel?” Ellen asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.
Ariel grinned. “Randi, let’s show them.”
Randi unslung her pack and lowered it to the ground. She unbuckled the lid of the pack and opened the drawstring that sealed the top, reached inside, and withdrew a thick slab of wood, roughly two feet wide and three feet high. She handed it to Ariel.
Ariel worked to maneuver the bulky item. She propped it against herself, standing in front of Buddy. He stared at the object, the deeply carved and surprisingly delicate lettering:
Here Lies
Rachel Baisden
Beloved Daughter
A sob erupted from Buddy and he put his hand over his mouth, staring at the slab of wood. Ariel blushed, embarrassed by the attention her surprise had garnered. She wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing or not. Buddy went to her, wrapping his arms gently around her and hugging her.
“I wanted to make you something,” Ariel said. “Randi said you would like this.”
“I do like it,” he said. “I love it more than I have words to tell you.”
Buddy looked over at Randi then, catching her eye. Randi lost it, breaking into tears. Buddy stood and hugged her too.
It wasn’t long before everyone except for the confused children was crying. They cried not just for Buddy, but for all that each of them had lost. For Lloyd’s parents, for Charlotte’s husband, for the people of the valley.
Randi pulled an entrenching tool from her pack and they used it to set the marker on the grave. While she and Jim dug, Lloyd moved his banjo from his back to a proper playing position. The missing fingers were on his picking hand and not his fretting hand. The digits were still very painful and he kept thick bandages on them to protect them. Still, with the three fingers he had, he played.
“A banjo player named Ola Belle Reed wrote a little song about the hard life of mountain folks,” Lloyd said. “It was called ‘I’ve Endured.’ I’ve always been partial to it.”
Lloyd eased into the song the way people slip into a hot bathtub. The music swelled around them. When he began to sing, it became the words of a prayer that echoed in the heads of everyone.
How much could one endure?
About the Author
Franklin Horton lives and writes in the mountains of southwestern Virginia. In his spare time he pursues outdoor adventures with his family. His first published novel, The Borrowed World, was published in May of 2015 and became an Amazon bestseller. Since that time he’s continued the series with Ashes of the Unspeakable and Legion of Despair. In 2016 he also released Locker Nine, a novel taking place within the same fictional world as The Borrowed World Series.
To find out more about Franklin Horton and his books, please visit:
Website: www.franklinhorton.com
Facebook page : facebook.com/theborrowedworld
Twitter: @jfranklinhorton
Amazon: amazon.com/Franklin-Horton/e/B00JTXX6BE
Table of Contents
Copyright © 2017 Franklin Horton
Editing by Felicia Sullivan
Amazon edition
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
About the Author
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The Borrowed World (Book 4): No Time For Mourning Page 25