Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins by Margeaux Laurent Page B

while surrounded by
those in prayer was not the best of things to do, and I drifted off
into private thoughts of Greer as the prayers continued for what
seemed like ten minutes.
    During dinner, the women were expected to
remain silent and listen to the conversation of the men. I thought
it amusing that little Mathew’s comments about playing with beetles
was considered more important to Mr. Marthaler than inquiring about
the welfare of his wife or daughter.
    Even though he was a horrible person,
Abigail could not see it. She adored her father and wanted nothing
more than to please him, no matter what the cost.
    As we ate, my unease grew. Zachariah used
the tablecloth to hide his lecherous deeds as he placed his hand on
my knee. I flinched at his touch, and in response, he kept trying
to move his hand higher up my leg. I brushed his hand away numerous
times, but he only thought it to be some sort of game and became
more aggressive in his attempts.
    His father kept talking of the nightly hunts
and the difficulties of tracking the mysterious animal. There were
no paw prints, no broken twigs or branches. Even the Natives could
not locate the beast. He droned on and on and finally Zachariah’s
hand was moving farther up my thigh and all my efforts to press his
hand away were useless. I found nothing else to do, so when tea was
served I dumped my steaming cup directly on his arm.
     
    ********************
     
    My cloak was wrapped around me and I waited
at the door while his mother gently helped Zachariah get his coat
on without brushing the skin where the bandage laid over his
blistered arm.
    He was charged with the duty of walking me
home before the sun set for the evening.
    Mrs. Marthaler suggested that Zachariah take
the carriage, so that we were both protected and the journey was
swift, however her husband disagreed. He told Zachariah that he
would not risk losing another horse to the prowling beast. He gave
Zachariah one of his pistols and told him to be on guard. We were
to walk.
    Mr. Marthaler shut the door behind us, and
we began our journey. We had a long walk ahead of us before we
would clear the looming forest’s presence, and I felt the pressure
of awkward silence forcing me to say something.
    “Here,” said Zachariah, as he jutted out his
uninjured arm for me to take.
    I begrudgingly obliged and we walked along
in silence. I could hear a crow’s call from within the forest, and
I paid strict attention.
    “What are you looking for?” He followed my
gaze into the tree line.
    “Nothing” I replied in haste. Crows often
brought signs from the Goddess and I knew that this particular call
meant something, but I could not interpret the message with
Zachariah around.
    Our walk continued, and led us deep into the
forest. On either side of the path were tall trees that swayed in
the wind. The grey hue of dusk caused menacing shadows to jump from
the darkest corners of the forest and cast ghoulish images on the
dirt road. We both heard the crow’s call again. It was closer this
time and alarming in its volume. It sounded angry.
    “Bloody bird,” Zachariah growled under his
breath.
    I felt uneasy as I listened to the crow’s
call, and I looked up to watch the magnificent creature gliding
high above our heads, squawking loudly as it flew.
    “Too bad I don’t have my rifle,” he
mumbled.
    “It isn’t bothering you,” I snapped.
    “You don’t find that noise irritating?” he
asked sarcastically.
    “No … I think it’s pretty.”
    He scoffed as he gave me a look of
disapproval, “You would .”
    From that moment on, we walked in silence.
The crow followed us from a distance, and made just enough noise to
keep Zachariah in a state of annoyance.
    He winced every once in a while, looking
down at his arm in an attempt for sympathy. I realized that between
this event and my conversation with Abigail, I must do something to
make amends with at least one of them.
    “I am sorry I hurt your arm,” I