through the woods that mysteriously brings us to the scene of a crime?”
“The woods aren’t signposted,” Kami said. “It’s easy to get a little lost, wander about. Who knows what you might stumble upon!”
“Kami,” said Jared. “I can read your mind.”
“Well, that won’t hold up in court,” Kami informed him. “It sounds crazy.”
Kami had not planned her investigative foray into the woods ahead of time, or she would’ve worn dark jeans and boots. But even with the disadvantage of a belted button-down red skirt and kitten heels, she was able to keep ahead of the city boy. When Kami jumped over a stile, he looked at it as if he’d never seen one before.
“I have never seen one before,” Jared said, keeping close to the fence and eyeing the sheep on the other side with suspicion.
A lamb nudged its pink snub nose in Kami’s direction, and she patted its white woolly head. She always meant to stop eating lamb because they were so adorable. But she always succumbed when it landed on the table, because it was so delicious.
One of the lambs fixed its attention on Jared. “Baa,” it flirted.
“Boo,” said Jared.
“Oh my God, Jared. Don’t tough-talk the lambs.”
“It was giving me a funny look,” Jared claimed, boosting himself over the next stile. “I thought the countryside would have more open fields and fewer fences and barbed wire.”
“So you thought all the animals wandered onto other people’s land, getting run over by reckless drivers such as yourself?” Kami asked. “We like fences. And we have rolling fields. We have fields that rock and roll.” She waved at the expanse of green, the landscape changing hands from tree to field until finally it all melded with the sky to become blue mist in the distance. She was surprised to find herself feeling defensive.
“Kami,” said Jared. “I like it.”
“You don’t have to like it.”
“I do anyway,” said Jared.
They went over the wooden bridge over the Sorrier River, stands of bright red wolfberries waving at them from the bank.
“The Sorrier River?” Jared asked when he saw the sign by the bridge.
“It’s haunted,” Kami said, with some pride.
“The river is haunted?”
“During the Wars of the Roses—a big fight over who should be the king of England, Richard of York or Henry of Lancaster,” Kami supplied, “Sorry-in-the-Vale stood for Richard. Henry won through vile treachery. Anyway, since Henry was a cruel tyrant, he decided everyone who had fought for Richard—who was king of England at the time!—was a traitor, and started seizing lands and squeezing people for cash.”
“Classic tyranny,” Jared observed. “Not very imaginative.”
“So the people of Sorry-in-the-Vale hid their valuables when the king’s men were going by. You know the tower attached to Aurimere? It used to be a bell tower, but the bell was carved and made of gold. Well, gold leaf, probably, but at this stage everyone says gold. Elinor Lynburn ordered that the bell be sunk in the river. What with one king and another, they didn’t bring the bell up from the river until Elizabeth I was on the throne, and then nobody was able to find it. The legend goes that when Sorry-in-the-Vale is in danger, the bells in the river ring out a warning.” Kami beamed with satisfaction.
Jared glanced over the side of the bridge. It hadn’t rained lately, and it had been a long summer. The Sorrier was a silver trickle. “So the river is haunted by … bells?”
“You do not deserve an ancestral legend,” Kami informed him.
They stepped into the woods under a green arch like a church doorway made of boughs. The woods had the hush of a church too. This was the real woods, and even the quality of the light was different, shadow and sunshine caught together in a net of leaves. Kami had loved the woods all her life, but without loving them any less, she could not forget seeing horror under these trees. She did not let her steps slow. Kami
“The woods aren’t signposted,” Kami said. “It’s easy to get a little lost, wander about. Who knows what you might stumble upon!”
“Kami,” said Jared. “I can read your mind.”
“Well, that won’t hold up in court,” Kami informed him. “It sounds crazy.”
Kami had not planned her investigative foray into the woods ahead of time, or she would’ve worn dark jeans and boots. But even with the disadvantage of a belted button-down red skirt and kitten heels, she was able to keep ahead of the city boy. When Kami jumped over a stile, he looked at it as if he’d never seen one before.
“I have never seen one before,” Jared said, keeping close to the fence and eyeing the sheep on the other side with suspicion.
A lamb nudged its pink snub nose in Kami’s direction, and she patted its white woolly head. She always meant to stop eating lamb because they were so adorable. But she always succumbed when it landed on the table, because it was so delicious.
One of the lambs fixed its attention on Jared. “Baa,” it flirted.
“Boo,” said Jared.
“Oh my God, Jared. Don’t tough-talk the lambs.”
“It was giving me a funny look,” Jared claimed, boosting himself over the next stile. “I thought the countryside would have more open fields and fewer fences and barbed wire.”
“So you thought all the animals wandered onto other people’s land, getting run over by reckless drivers such as yourself?” Kami asked. “We like fences. And we have rolling fields. We have fields that rock and roll.” She waved at the expanse of green, the landscape changing hands from tree to field until finally it all melded with the sky to become blue mist in the distance. She was surprised to find herself feeling defensive.
“Kami,” said Jared. “I like it.”
“You don’t have to like it.”
“I do anyway,” said Jared.
They went over the wooden bridge over the Sorrier River, stands of bright red wolfberries waving at them from the bank.
“The Sorrier River?” Jared asked when he saw the sign by the bridge.
“It’s haunted,” Kami said, with some pride.
“The river is haunted?”
“During the Wars of the Roses—a big fight over who should be the king of England, Richard of York or Henry of Lancaster,” Kami supplied, “Sorry-in-the-Vale stood for Richard. Henry won through vile treachery. Anyway, since Henry was a cruel tyrant, he decided everyone who had fought for Richard—who was king of England at the time!—was a traitor, and started seizing lands and squeezing people for cash.”
“Classic tyranny,” Jared observed. “Not very imaginative.”
“So the people of Sorry-in-the-Vale hid their valuables when the king’s men were going by. You know the tower attached to Aurimere? It used to be a bell tower, but the bell was carved and made of gold. Well, gold leaf, probably, but at this stage everyone says gold. Elinor Lynburn ordered that the bell be sunk in the river. What with one king and another, they didn’t bring the bell up from the river until Elizabeth I was on the throne, and then nobody was able to find it. The legend goes that when Sorry-in-the-Vale is in danger, the bells in the river ring out a warning.” Kami beamed with satisfaction.
Jared glanced over the side of the bridge. It hadn’t rained lately, and it had been a long summer. The Sorrier was a silver trickle. “So the river is haunted by … bells?”
“You do not deserve an ancestral legend,” Kami informed him.
They stepped into the woods under a green arch like a church doorway made of boughs. The woods had the hush of a church too. This was the real woods, and even the quality of the light was different, shadow and sunshine caught together in a net of leaves. Kami had loved the woods all her life, but without loving them any less, she could not forget seeing horror under these trees. She did not let her steps slow. Kami
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