The bear chuffed and eyed up the little man. The bear rose on his hind legs as if to prove his physical superiority to the measly human. Red’s feet were frozen to the autumn cloaked ground, and her heart beat heavily in her chest as she awaited the outcome of the battle playing out before her. Gaul was no match for the huge bear, but she didn’t understand why the bear hadn’t either charged or run away.
Another bear huffed, and terror replaced her earlier anger at Gaul. Now she was alone in the woods with two bears and a mean, slingshot-wielding man. She scanned around the ground until she found a sturdy stick she could use to defend herself, if needed.
Man and beast continued to eye each other up as Red’s mind scrambled for a way to break the growing tension. Red leaned forward, her feet involuntarily inching towards the tense scene before her. She lifted her stick, determined that she’d go down fighting if needed. Not watching where she was going, her right foot slipped on a leaf and with a little shriek of surprise, found herself sitting on her bottom in a small puddle.
When she looked up, both man and beast had fled the battlefield. Red sighed with relief and stood up. She didn’t like Gaul very much but didn’t want to see him being eaten by a bear, either. Brushing dirt and leaves from her cloak, Red scurried towards home. Sunlight had waned, the charm in the autumn air was turning cold and humid, and all she wanted was a hot cup of tea.
Chapter Two
Red heaved a giant sigh of relief when her mother’s snug little cottage came into her line of sight. She raced for the front door, zooming past Snow who was picking the last of the autumn berries from the patch inside the fence.
“Red,” Snow cried out in surprise. Where have you been? We’ve been worried,” Snow said, but Red ignored her sister as she raced into the safety of their home. Snow frowned, picked a few more berries before following her sister into the house.
Olga stood by the stove, tossing her a bouquet of savory ingredients into the stew pot. Her brown eyes were bright with worry as her daughters stormed the main room of their cottage.
“What’s going on?” Snow demanded, her usually gentle voice harsh with fear. “Red, you should have been home an hour ago. Did you get lost in the woods?” She set her bowl of berries on the table and began to put water on to boil. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve had a fright. Let me put the teapot on.”
“I’m sorry,” Red said, glancing back and forth between her mother and sister. She hugged her sister and rubbed her back. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry.” Red turned and hugged her mother, silently begging for their forgiveness. “I got distracted by something in the woods, and that horrid Gaul was there.”
Snow shivered at the sound of his name. “I do not like that man,” she said. She set out a tray and three cups from the rose patterns her mother so loved. Three teacups with roses as red as a spring cardinal and three saucers with roses as white as winter’s first snow.
“I don’t care what distracted you, Rose-Red,” their mother Olga scolded. “There was another child who disappeared last night from the village. Do not stray from the path. You must be careful.”
“What?” Snow said, her hand going to her breast in shock. “You didn’t tell me there was another disappearance.” She exchanged a look with her sister. “Did they contact Sheriff Avery?”
Olga nodded. “I was going to wait until we had dinner, Snow-White,” she said, adjusting her shawl tightly around her shoulders. “Mrs. Baumgarten came for tea today. Her son brought news that his neighbor’s son was missing.”
“That’s terrible,” Snow whispered, sitting down with a hard thump on a straight-back chair. Her pale hand reached for her sister’s, needing the comfort they drew from each other. “Thank goodness you’re okay, Red. We were so worried when I arrived home before you. You left before I did and I had to witness yet another fight between Ruby and the Sheriff this afternoon. What distracted you in the woods?”
Red looked down, ashamed she had made her family worry over her. “There was a huge brown bear in the clearing. You know the one, right past the rhubarb patch.”
Snow nodded slowly. “A bear? Did he try and hurt you?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Red assured her. “He was playing. And I was enchanted by him. Watching him chase bees and splash in the brook. He looked so happy and silly, and I guess.” Red shrugged apologetically. “I lost track of time. I will promise to do better, especially since people are disappearing.”
“You’ll do more than a promise. You’ll be more careful. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you,” Snow said. She looked at their clasped hands. “I do not trust Gaul. I’d be more worried about that Gaul creature over a bear, but still. You need to be careful,” Snow said, rising to give her sister another hug.
“Well, from now on, we are carrying something to protect ourselves with when we go to the bakery,” Rose declared. “Gaul had a slingshot. Maybe we can make something like that.”
Olga sat down at the table and began peeling apples for dessert. She lifted a finger and gestured with her paring knife as she pointed it at both of her daughters. “You leave that bear alone. He did nothing to you.”
Red and Snow exchanged a long look. “Do you know about the bear, Mother?”
Olga shrugged as the water began to boil. “It’s too early to tell,” Olga said, her voice smoky and mysterious. “Get the water, Snow. Set the tea to steep. Red, get out of those wet and dirty clothes. Have a cup of tea and then help me with dinner.”
“Mother? Tell us what you know? We aren’t children to be protected,” Snow said, her sage-green eyes growing fierce as she watched her mother putter around the kitchen.
“Are you arguing with your mother?”
Snow sighed. “No, ma’am.” Chin set resolutely she pulled the boiling pot of water off the stove and poured it into the enamel pot along with several scoops of fragrant tea leaves.
Olga raised an eyebrow at her other daughter and with a sharp release of breath, Red spun on one foot to change into dry clothing. “Don’t think this is over,” Red said with a toss of her auburn braid. “If we are living in the same woods with that bear, we have the right to know.”
“And I have the right to be certain I’m correct,” Olga said, shutting down the line of questioning as efficiently as Sheriff Wolfe.
Later, after their dishes were washed and put away, the three women settled down for a quiet evening. Olga sat with her sewing as she began building a new quilt. Red played with Bruno, their ginger tabby by dangling a piece of string. Snow curled up near the fire with a novel and a fresh cup of tea.
“Tell us a story, Mother,” Red said when Bruno grew bored of being teased by his little string.
“Which one, dear?”
Snow put her book down. “The one about how you met Father,” she suggested. “That one is so romantic.”
“She tells us that all the time,” Red said. “You pick one, Mother. All your stories are good.”
“Hmm. Let me see,” Olga began, setting her sewing on her ample lap. Red and Snow sat attentively, their eyes trained on their mother. “How about the one about how we found this cottage? Let me see, it was right after the Peace Accords were signed and everyone was anxious for a new life, free of war. My parents approved of the match, and after your father and I married, we looked all over for the perfect home. I knew this was the right spot. Just walking up here filled me with such peace and hope. I begged your father to go into the woods and find me rose-trees to plant. I knew the wild tangle of rose bushes were needed to frame the mountains in the backdrop.”
“He brought you a rose-tree of pure white,” Red said, smiling at her younger sister.
“And the ones made of luscious red,” Snow said, reaching her hand out to give her sister’s a friendly squeeze. Olga’s story of naming them after her favorite flowers was not new. They gave up their respective spots to gather around their mother’s legs.
“Yes,” Olga said. “I do love my roses very m
uch.” She smiled at the girls and touched both of their cheeks. “But who is telling this story?”
“You are,” Snow said with a giggle. “It’s just one of our favorite parts.” She patted her mother’s hand. “And we love you, too, Mother,” Snow said, grinning at her mother’s long-ago nickname for her daughters.
“We were nervous living so close to the edge of the woods, but your father wanted to be close to his homeland. Every time there was a livestock attack people thought it was the Witches attacking us again.”
Red’s shoulders straightened with tension. “Was it the Witches who eventually killed Father?”
“Yes, dear,” Olga said. “At least, that’s what we all always thought. Your father and the original Baron Knox went deep into the woods to investigate and never returned. After the first Baron’s disappearance, Thistle Grove became a rather lawless village. Eventually, Griffin was elected to govern in his father’s place.”
“And he brought with him Sheriff Wolfe,” Snow said with a shiver. She still didn’t trust Avery Wolfe, but he was the law and had the confidence of both Knox brothers. That had to count in his favor.
“Indeed,” Olga said. “And somehow, with them in power, the threat from the woods went away. I don’t know if the Knox brothers negotiated another peace or threatened them in some way. After all, we all counted ourselves lucky they abided by the Witch Peace Accords in the first place. But eventually, law and order were restored. People weren’t afraid anymore. Children began playing outside again. Livestock flourished.”
“The Knox family has done a lot for Thistle Grove,” Snow said. She and Red exchanged blushing glances at their earlier discussion of how handsome the brothers were.
“Yes,” Olga said. Her brown eyes crinkled at the edges. “And it did not hurt that they are exceedingly good-looking young men. They certainly caught the attention of many a maid.”
Snow blushed harder, but Red merely laughed. “I do believe Snow has a crush on Tristan,” Red teased.
“Hush,” Snow said, rising to her sister’s bait. “Because I am pretty sure you were looking at the cut of Baron Griffin’s breeches.”
Red laughed, a deep belly laugh before grabbing a pillow and tossing it at her sister. Snow shrieked and threw it back at her while little Bruno ran under the couch to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.
“Girls!” Olga scolded.
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison with little smirks. Suitably chastised, they sat and looked at their mother.
“But in exchange for getting rid of the witches, we got the bears who roam the perimeter woods like a sentry. Some people think the witches are afraid of the bears.”
“Wait,” Red said, her breath catching. “Are you saying the bears are the Knox brothers?”
Olga pursed her lips and didn’t answer. “I do not know anything for certain,” she said. “But there are at least three groups of bears. A pair of giant brown bears, a family of black bears, and at least one solitary polar has been spotted. Once the bears began their patrol, the Witch threat disappeared. It’s never a good idea to tease any bear, but Thistle Grove bears should always be honored.”
“And now the Knox brothers are gone,” Snow said. She jumped when a blast of wind slammed a shutter against the cottage. Or was it just the wind? Could someone be out there? Watching them. Hunting them.
The three women shared a look as ominous thoughts were considered and discarded. Was someone out there, hiding beneath the sound of the wind? Snow’s breath caught at the fantastical idea that someone might be out there, watching them sit before the hearth. Her chest tightened with the imagined panic. Was someone or something spying on them? And for what purpose?
“Do you think someone is out there?” Snow asked, her green eyes dilated with fear.
“I’m sure it’s just the wind,” Red said with false bravado. “What else could it be?”
“Anything,” Snow answered. She looked towards her mother for guidance. “But in addition to livestock, now children are disappearing. It sounds like it could be the work of the witches.” Snow said in a nervous whisper, her imagination turning into her worst enemy. “The Knox brothers were first. Like they were taking away our protectors. And now children.”
“Will the Witches come back, Mother?” Red asked.
Again, Olga didn’t answer her daughter. “I think it’s safe to say we’re all worried about such a possibility,” Olga confessed. “Which is why you girls must be careful. I’ve already lost your father to the Witches. I cannot lose either of you, too.”
Red and Snow exchanged another look before rising to hug their mother. “We will stay together, Mother. I promise,” Red said.
“Good,” Olga said, patting their hair.
“On the bright side, we still have the bears,” Snow offered.
“Yes,” Olga said. “That is the only thing that is bringing me comfort tonight, my darlings. Now go, together, and secure the shutter. I cannot rest knowing someone may be out there and able to look in at us.” She stood and got the shotgun down off the mantle. “I have your back.”
Snow slipped her woolen ivory cloak over her shoulders while Red donned her maroon one. The door opened easily and the autumn dark night spilled with desolate bleakness into the cheerful warmth of their cottage.
“Hurry,” Snow whispered as they drew strength from each other. Together, the two girls slipped outside and secured the house.
Once back inside, door latched securely, and shotgun returned to its home over the hearth, the tension began to fade. Olga picked up her quilt pieces again. Snow returned to her book. And Red stared moodily into the snapping, crackling glow of the fire.
Chapter Three
With their mother’s warnings fresh in their minds, Red’s apron was now full of a variety of improvised ordinance. “Let’s get handfuls of dirt,” she directed her sister. “Dirt in the eyes would buy us time.” Red shivered in memory. “And if it is the Witches behind all of this, it will keep them from seeing us. If they can’t see us, they can’t hex us.”
“Do you really think all of this is necessary,” Snow asked as they walked to work the next morning. Her sister’s apron was overstuffed with rocks, a knife, and now dirt to toss into someone’s eyes. Snow looked around at the eerie sepia toned sky. A storm was brewing. The sky over the red oaks remained an ornery shade of tan-grey, as if the heavens were resisting the colors of dawn.
“You didn’t see the emptiness in Gaul’s eyes. Or his willingness to shoot at a creature that wasn’t hurting him or about to hurt him. He’s evil. I felt it.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Snow said with a frown. “How am I supposed to know if you don’t explain it to me? How bad was he?”
“The smell,” Red said with a shiver. The skin around her cheeks turned as green as the bile rising in her throat. “I’ve never smelled anything quite like it. It was dark. Dank. Rank. Vile. I compared it to rotten lettuce. It’s the closest thing I’ve got.”
Their path took them beneath the limbs of an old pear tree. “We’ll need to collect whatever pears we can,” Snow said. “They’ll be wonderful treats all winter long.” She bent and picked up a handful of the fruit and cradled them in a basket she carried.
Red nodded and grabbed several of them as well. “You’ve met Gaul, Snow. Don’t you feel his deviousness? Can’t you…I don’t know. Can’t you smell it?”
“I never liked him,” Snow said, slowly. It didn’t feel right to talk about the man, somehow. “But evil? That’s a stretch, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so,” Red said. She pulled a rock out of her pocket and secured it with a braided strap. She gave it a tentative swing. “Here, try this one.”
Snow threaded her finger through the loop and began swinging the rock. “I can see how I could maybe knock someone out with this,” she said with a grin. “But I am also just as likely to hit my own head. Your sister is a bit of a klutz.”
“You’ll be fine. But we need to have each o
ther’s backs. Put that in your pocket. I have another one for you to try.” Red handed Snow a piece of kindling wood which had been carved down to a narrow stick only a little longer than their hand. “You keep it in your hand like this,” she said, demonstrating. “And then use it to strike someone if they get too close or threaten you.”
“Have you seen how sharp a wolf’s teeth are? I don’t think that puny little stick is going to do me much good.”
“Some of us have sharper teeth than others.”
Snow let out a little screech, and even Red jumped. Both dropped the weapons they’d been practicing with. “Sheriff Avery,” Red said. She inched closer to her sister for protection. “You scared us.”
“Sorry, girls,” Avery said, his wide golden eyes darting around as though looking for trouble. His shaggy grey hair looked unkempt beneath his sheriff’s hat, and his uniform needed to be ironed. The recent problems around Thistle Grove was definitely taking its toll on the sheriff. “These recent cases have me stumped. I don’t want to call in for help from the governor’s office.”
“Do you think this has anything to do with the Witches?”
“I don’t know. It’s the lack of evidence or motive that’s most disturbing.” His eyes took on a sharp, feral look. “But don’t worry. I have a team coming in at the end of next week that will help clear out whatever is in the Woods.”
“Do you know for sure there is something in the Woods, then?” Snow asked. Fear tingled her spine, and she held the improvised weapon a little tighter in her hand.
Avery nodded. “I’d stay out of them,” he said. “Pass that on to Ruby, too. She seems to like to do things just to defy me.”
Red exchanged a brief smile with her sister. “We will certainly pass on the message.”
Avery bent to pick up the small hand-held weapons Red and Snow had been practicing with. He handed the stick to Red and a pair of silver scissors to Snow.
“Wolves have tender eyes, too, you know,” Avery reminded them and with a short jerk of his sheriff hat took off in the direction of town.
Red: A Retelling or Rose-Red and Snow-White (Thistle Grove Tales Book 1) Page 2