Becoming Calder (A Sign of Love Novel)(4)

Where do you find your strength, Morning Glory? he'd asked me.
From you, I'd said, smiling and pulling him close.
But now he wasn't here. Where would I find my strength now?
I looked up at the corner street sign to my right. Elm Street. I let out a heavy breath. Did I have it in me to go just a little bit more? Yes, I thought I might—for a warm bed and a meal—even if it was in a homeless shelter. I'd make it through tonight and then I'd come up with some sort of plan. Maybe someone at the shelter could tell me where to find a job . . . something.
I stood up and walked to Elm Street, and after determining I needed to head right to get to the fourteen hundred block, I set off. My teeth chattered and I pulled my arms around myself again as I walked, tucking my head down against the wind.
A line was formed up ahead and I craned my neck to see if it was the shelter, standing on my tiptoes to see around all the people.
"You looking for a place to sleep?" an older man at the end of the line in a long, dirty jacket with a head of wild white hair, asked.
I nodded, my teeth chattering harder.
"This place is only for men," he said. "But a pretty girl like you could probably make some good cash in the alleyway back there." He inclined his head backward and then leered at me and cackled.
So there it was again—sex. Evidently I did have something of value. I'd like to say I didn't consider it for a brief few seconds. I was so hungry, desperately hungry, and so cold. The list of things I wouldn't do to stop the pain of my empty stomach and the cold that had made its way down to my bones, was growing shorter and shorter.
I mustered the very last shred of my pride and turned away.
He's waiting for me, by a spring, under the warm sunshine. I'll wait for you. But I hope I'm waiting a long time.
I got about a block before the tears started to slip down my cheeks. Panic surged inside me. Oh no, oh no. You can't cry. If you cry, you'll lose control. That thought brought the terror of my situation front and center. I needed someone. Anyone. There were plenty of people walking by, but I didn't belong to any of them and none of them belonged to me. They didn't see me. They didn't care. With neediness came overwhelming grief. I sat down on some steps, put my head on my knees, and I cried.
"Miss?" I jerked my head up and looked through tear-blurred vision at an older man in a suit. I sucked back my tears as much as possible, swiped wetness from my eyes, and attempted a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose myself.
"I own Grant and Rothford Company," he said quietly, looking uncomfortable.
Then it clicked. He had been the man behind the glass door whom the saleswoman had spoken with. The owner. Oh no, had he decided I owed more money for the vase? Would he call the police now? I couldn't go to the police. I couldn't.
I stood up too quickly. I managed two steps before the world tilted and fell away.



BOOK ONE
Acadia

“Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed.
You will never be lovelier than you are now.
We will never be here again.”
Homer, The Iliad



CHAPTER ONE


Calder – Ten-Years-Old



It was a Tuesday, the day she showed up. I remember because we were watering the bean crops, and the bean crops only got watered the third day of every week. I heard the white jeep before I saw it, and when I looked up, it was coming around the bend in the road, kicking up dust behind it as it drove toward where we were in the fields. I strained my eyes and could see Hector Bias in the driver's seat and a blonde head in the passenger seat next to him. I put my hand up on my head like a visor and squinted into the bright desert sun, trying to see inside the vehicle better, but the glare of the window glass stopped me from getting a good view and the distance was too great to make out much.
"Hector's back!" I called out.
"Shh, Calder," my mom scolded. "Hector will be happy to see you working hard." But a smile crossed her face as she looked at the jeep getting closer, and then turned back to her work. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at her back, but bent back down next to her and continued giving those beans the inch of water they liked in order to grow big and tall and strong enough to feed all one hundred and twenty of us.
I didn't see her after that. She lived up at the main lodge with Hector. She was his blessed one—the bride who would stand by his side when we, his people, were welcomed by the gods to the Fields of Elysium, the most glorious paradise within the heavens.
We all wanted to see her though. Everyone was curious about the woman who it had been foretold, along with Hector, would lead us to the hereafter when those great floods came and the end of the world was upon us. I guessed she was kind of like our ticket in.