Spindle(72)

Again, her pulse quickened. She wanted to stay snuggled in Henry’s arms as long as he could hold her. Too soon, he carefully lowered her to a moss-covered spot on the edge of the glen, and then disappeared back through the woods. He returned with the quilt that had fallen off when he picked her up.

After spreading it on a flat area, he helped her onto the quilt, finally settling himself behind her. He lifted her up so she rested against his chest. “Comfortable?” he asked.

His deep voice rumbled through her back and into her chest.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Did you know that this was where my family first built a home? When they came to America?”

“I never thought about your family coming to America. Guess I thought they always lived here.” She looked around for a stone foundation but didn’t see one. “It’s so far away from everything.”

“Exactly. They wanted to stay away from everyone. But the well they dug dried up in the summers and then they decided it would be better to move closer to the big creek, where the house is now.”

“Where did they come from?”

“Now that is where the story gets interesting.” He leaned back on his hands.





Chapter Thirty-Eight



The woods were silent except the call of two warblers on opposite trees talking back and forth. To Briar it seemed like the one bird was trying to get the other bird to come over to his tree, but his friend was reluctant. Briar waited for Henry to continue. Breathe in. Breathe out. He was taking an awfully long time to collect his thoughts.

“I hoped that one day I’d be telling you this story, but I didn’t expect it to be like this.” He reached out with his hand to indicate her lifeless legs. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she nestled back against him.

“My family roots go way back to the Black Forest in Germany.” He held out his calloused hands. “Not that you can tell by looking at us now, but we come from kings and queens. Back then, my family used to throw the biggest parties. Everyone would come, decked out in their finest, wearing their most expensive jewels, so I’ve been told. The last party was one to celebrate the birth of a special princess. You see, my family tends to produce boys, boys, and more boys, so the arrival of little Aurora was special.”

Briar lifted her head to see Henry’s face. “Fanny told me about the story of Aurora. I didn’t realize you were related to her. I thought maybe I was, my name being what it is and, well, with what is happening to me.”

“Yes, Briar Rose. Your name caused quite a stir when you and your family moved into the valley. Miss Prudence put everyone on alert. Your name was too much of a coincidence for her liking. You know how she prefers life to march along in a particular, unchanging way.”

“Is that why you started following me everywhere?”

“What? No. Yes. No.” He laughed nervously. “I followed you around because I thought you were pretty. And then when I saw how kind you were to others, the way you are taking care of the children, your tenderness with them, your patience with the boys, I fell hard for you. You are unlike any other girl I know.”

Briar’s face warmed. She had no idea Henry noticed all those things about her.

“And if it weren’t for me,” he continued, “you’d be outside playing with the children right now same as always. I should have left well enough alone.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t make me prick my finger.”

“I’m getting to that. So, you know about Aurora from Fanny’s telling. Did she tell you what happened after Aurora woke?”

“Only that Isodora figured out what had happened and was furious about it.”

“Yes, but the fairies dealt with her. Aurora was the one left with the problem of the spindle.”

“What do you mean?”

“The spindle was still poisoned. The handsome prince, as they like to call my long-ago grandfather, tried to hack it to pieces with an ax, but it wouldn’t bust. Aurora tried to burn it in the hottest fire, but it barely singed.”

Briar thought of the spindle and the burn mark she had noticed.

“They tried to bury it in the ground, but the earth would shift and spit it back up again. They could not be rid of the thing. It was terrible. They tried for years, and nothing they did would destroy it. They lived in fear of someone in their household pricking their finger. It tempts people to touch it.”

“The girls at the mill said it smelled like apple pie.”

“Apple pie? I suppose. I always thought it smelled a bit rotten.”

Briar wrinkled her nose, thinking of the smell. “Me, too. I didn’t know why the girls liked the smell so much. Anyway, I’ll tell you about that later. Please continue.” Briar put her hand to her throat. It was starting to hurt again.

“Aurora was convinced that the spindle would get its revenge on her daughter. She was scared to have children, but fortunately for her, all her children were boys. Mama thinks the fairies had something to do with that. Even though the family is prone to boys, there has not been a girl born into the Prince family since Aurora.”

“That is unusual.”

Henry took Briar’s hand from her throat and held it, stroking his thumb in circles, taking her mind off the pain. Why did she have to find out now, when it was too late, how good it felt to be in Henry’s arms?