Nolan Wraycroft's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Nolan Wraycroft wanted to marry the heir of the family his own kin had feuded with for three generations. To do that, he first had to reach her side of the forest without a gamekeeper putting an arrow in him. He stood behind his riverside cottage at dawn, tightening the red scarf around his fist. The scarf was her family's color, not his. He wore it anyway, like a dare. The problem was simple. He didn't know the way. A dozen deer trails split off into the trees beyond the river, and any of them could lead to her father's land or straight into a trap. Wandering blind meant getting caught, and getting caught meant no wedding, no talk, nothing but a beating and a warning. Nolan had crossed before and stumbled home lost twice. He couldn't keep guessing. Then he saw the fawn. It stood at the water's edge, thin-legged and spotted, drinking. It lifted its head, watched him, and did not run. Nolan crouched slow. He knew wild things. A fawn this calm belonged to someone's care. Someone across the river fed it. "Show me home, then," he whispered. The fawn turned and picked its way up the bank. Nolan followed. It led him along a trail he'd never noticed, under low branches, past a rose bush thick with blush-pink blooms that no wild ground would ever grow. Someone had planted it. He was close to tended land now. His heart beat hard. The fawn stopped in a clearing. There, cropping moss, stood a great elk, its wide antlers hung with green growth like a living crown. Nolan froze. The elk raised its head and stared at him. It did not bolt. It knew people too. This whole clearing was hers, or her family's — cared for, fed, watched. A voice cut through the trees. "That's far enough." A young woman stepped from behind the elk. She held a walking staff, and she wore boots caked with river mud. Her eyes went straight to the scarf on his fist. She knew the color. She knew whose it was, and she knew he wasn't allowed to wear it. "You're a Wraycroft," she said. Not a question. "I am." Nolan didn't lower his hand. "And you're the one I came to find." She studied him a long moment. The fawn trotted to her side and pressed against her leg. "My father's men walk this ridge at midday," she said. "You've got till the sun turns. After that, I can't help what happens to you." Nolan had his answer at last. He knew the path now, and he'd found her. But he stood on her father's land with a clock running and armed men coming, and the woman before him had just made his trespass her problem too.