Day 108: Great Value

Write about an item you own that is not worth much money but has great value to you.

I have a collection of sentimental items in my house.  Special gifts given by those I love.  I have items that belonged to family members who have passed away.  Really, I have a lot of items worth great value to me.  My latest is an elephant.  My cousin Marie collected elephants.  She gave my mom two before she passed away.  I asked for one.  I received one with a paisley print of greens and rose colors.  He matches my writing room walls perfectly.  I have my dad’s Cursillo cross in my car and his old chainsaw in my garage, along with quite a few other odd items throughout my house.  I have an old sander of my grandpa Nixon and a crosscut saw of my grandma and grandpa Hedahl.  I have a white glass Christmas hat sitting on my kitchen window of my grandma Nixon.  I have my sister-in-laws painting of the hat in my sitting room.  My house if filled with furniture my father-in-law built. 

My mother-in-law once told her sisters that each of her daughter-in-laws have a distinct decorating scheme.  When she came to mine, she hesitated.  I helped her out.  "Mine is eclectic.  Yes, my house is filled with treasures that keep my past loved ones close that only have value to me.  I hope someday they have value to my kids or grandkids.

Day 107: Late

What is the best excuse for being late that you have ever heard or used?

Wow, I honestly don’t remember.  I know growing up we were often late.  My mother was always behind time.  It drove me crazy!  I hated being late with a passion.  Once, she sewed a dress or skirt for the 8th grade graduation for me.  I was either in 6th or 7th grade and needed to be there early to get ready to play my instrument in the band for the procession.  As the clock kept ticking, she was still sewing.  Finally she handed me the item, I quickly dressed, and Dad drove me to the high school gym.  As we were walking up to the doors, the music of the band floated out the open doors.  I turned to Dad and told him to take me home.  I was not going to walk in that late for the performance.  From that day forward, I did all in my power to get myself to the places I needed to go without relying on Mom.  I would wear old clothes just to arrive on time.

Now as an adult, I am usually obnoxiously early.  There are times I waste gas driving around until the best time to show up.  I know I have been late for things, but that is because I am at a different function and I have planned to be late.  I actually drive my daughter nuts about being early.  My husband is the same as me, so she gets a double whammy.  I will say, our middle child laughs because he is just as bad.

Day 106: A Cautionay Tale

If you were a book, in which section of the bookshop would you be shelved?  Which genre are you most drawn to?

I would be housed in the section of cautionary tales.  Ha, just kidding. I am torn on where I would like to reside.  I think they would just need to make a new section that combines a strong female protagonist with history, mythology, religion, a little romance, military, and magic, with a journey motif.  I think that covers everything.  Hum, as I read this over, I realized that my love of magic isn't necessarily where I would need to be shelved.  I don't practice magic.  However, I do find magic in discovery.  I could also be filed in travel, gardening, and hobbies.  I am all over the place!

And, as for genre that I am drawn to?  I gravitate to fantasy, historical, faith, the classics, and gardening.  I believe I read more fantasy then anything else because that is what I write.  However, I always am reading a book about faith for my women’s group and my own study.  I get itchy fingers if I don’t read a historical or classic at least every third book.  Really?  I just love books and reading! I know, I am addicted.

Day 105: Simple and Complex

Write briefly about on thing in your life that is simple and one thing that is complex.

So many times, the things of the world we love the most are both very simple and very complex.  I can give many examples of this.  My marriage.  So many things are simple, but get very complex.  I think 99.9% of relationships are a combination of simple and complex.  Today though, I would like to talk about writing. 

I simply must write.  Since I was little, I told myself stories.  Being an only child for nine years, my imagination was my best friend.  As I grew older and learned to write, the activity came naturally to me, this putting words on paper.  I loved my English classes.  No matter the assignment, I always had something to say.  As for stories, again, any topic I could twist and turn was a delight.  Simple.  To this day, within moments, I can conjure up an idea for a blog post or story.  Once a fellow writer listened to an idea that came to me the night before.  “You need to write that down before you forget it,” she advised.  “Are you kidding,” I exclaimed, “I hope I forget it.  I have ten other ideas on my list already.”  Yes, writing is simple for me.

In other ways, writing is so complex I want to scream.  Sure, I loved writing for English class, but teacher’s didn’t like my style nor my struggle with all the rules.  I became discouraged so many times with a C.  I loved the teachers who gave multiple grades.  I would get A’s for content/ideas and C’s for the other stuff: grammar, punctuation, and spelling.  The rules never came natural for me.  Hell, they still don’t!  I have grown a lot since my early days, but writing is still complex.  Now that I write everyday, I face the complexity of thirty-nine plus characters in my first fantasy series.  The battle sequences keep me constantly nervous that I am writing them incorrectly.  With my fifth book, the last in the series, I am battling writers block because I am so worried I will end it wrong by forgetting a character or not making the ending satisfying for my readers.  And don’t even get me started with all the non writing stuff I have to do: formatting, uploading, book covers, marketing, web-sites, and the list goes on.  I am exhausted just thinking about it all because of the complexity.

Why do I write for publishing when it is so complex?  For the same reason I stay married to my husband. I love both.  All things worth fighting for are simple and complex.  I will say that of late I have been doubting my writing.  Four books into this gig and I am not even treading water in the finance department.  Luckily, my dear husband, family, and friends cheer me on.  In fact, my husband will be reading the first 2/3rds of the current novel to guide me.  He is my first reader.  Also, I couldn’t stop writing now if I wanted to.  I might not get all the other things done, but I will write.

Day 104: Clothing

Describe your favorite article of clothing.

The double X men’s heavy flannel came from my dad.  I believe I bought it for him the Christmas before he died.  Mom had no idea if he wore it, but I grabbed it after the funeral.  I wear it when I am cold or missing him.  The colors are cream, browns, and reds in a plaid design with pearl colored snaps.  Sometimes, when I miss him a ton, I wear it while listening to all his favorite songs.  Miss ya, Dad.

Day 103: Fire

If your house was on fire, what would you grab before escaping?

Stupid question.  I would probably be panicking and have to be rescued.  I would hope I would make sure family and pets were out of the house first and foremost.  After that, the smart thing would be to grab the military family plan binder.  This has all of our life records.  Well, most of them.  I haven’t updated the binder for a while.  After that, the items I care about most are my sister-in-law's painting and all the family photos.  This is all the stuff I grabbed when a wildfire was headed down the ridge by my house. There are other things I would hate to lose, but these are the most important.

Day 102: Google

What is the last thing (or one of the last things) you searched for on the Internet?  Why?

I looked up spears.  Yep, I wanted to see what they looked like and get an idea of what I might use as a primary weapon for my orcs in the book I will be writing after I finish up the Living the Tenet series.  I have been studying Roman military units, maneuvers, weaponry and such. I am also doing this research for the last book and further books in other novels.  Battle scenes worry me when I write them.  I want them to be correct, so I am always looking things up. I so love my writing gig!

Day 101: A Better Surface

Complete this thought: “Someone really needs to design a better…”

Road building substance.  Stick with me here. In America, we have wonderful roads.  They are wide for one thing.  My poor sister drove us around in the backcountry of England, and they have tiny roads.  In Mexico, my husband drove a jeep in one area, and we took a bus in another area.  I honestly can’t remember the roads, but I believe the jeep was needed in some of the backcountry we traveled through.  So overall, yes, we have great roads.

I want a road that will melt snow and ice.  I love to travel all over my beautiful state, but in the winter, I stay home as much as possible.  The roads scare me.  I hate them. In November, we passed about seven wrecks on our way to Billings.  I think there is a permanent indentation on my door where I held on for dear life.  My husband is a great driver, but I am sure not a great passenger.

This weekend I am driving to Billings.  I check the weather report about three times a day.  I also check the road condition map.  When I complained the other day to a friend, she said her and her husband could drive me.  I love that she offered, but boy did I ever feel wimpy.  I hate feeling wimpy.

Anyway, I digress.  Roads.  They need a new type of surface that never freezes.  This would make me a happy driver.

Day 100: Strength

In what way are you strong?

My faith life is strong.  I don’t think I can attribute that to my strength though.  Throughout my life, I have always loved God.  I came from a good family, but we never went to church as a family.  When I was little, the church bus took me to the Church of God, or I went to the the Catholic Church with friends.  I always had a ride.  God did that.  Not me.

During college, I failed to go to church very often.  The first year, I didn’t have a car to get me off of campus.  I also didn’t look for a ride.  After that, I was so busy with three jobs trying to pay for college that I still didn’t make it very often.  I did find time to get married in my church and be blessed by my husband’s Catholic Church.  About a year later, I became Catholic.  Even being sporadic in attendance, I never lost my faith.  Thank you, Dear Lord.

As an adult, as all adults have happen, there have been many trials in life.  I have gotten mad at God many times.  I get a little demanding with Him.  I never demand for him to fix my life.  Instead, I ask him to fix my attitude.  He must laugh at me a lot.  But he always helps me feel better.  He always give me strength or carries me through.  I am also blessed by the people he puts in my life to help me.

I am always marveling at the faith he has instilled in me.  I often wonder, why me?  Why is my faith so strong when others struggle?  I have no answers, but I am truly thankful.  So, yes, I am strong in faith, but God is the power behind it.

Day 99: Too Long

What takes too long?

Dinner when I am hungry.  Getting to a restroom on a trip after drinking too much coffee.  Flights over the Atlantic. A novel being read by the first reader and editor.  Waiting for the birth of a baby. Medicine to kick in so the pain stops. Really, there are a lot of things that take to long.  I don't always have the most patience. 

Getting to a restroom on a trip after drinking too much coffee is the activity that plagues me the most.  My poor family. If we go on a trip that starts in the morning, I have to stop within the first thirty minutes or so.  I would say this is old age, but it is all the coffee. Sure, I should just not drink the blasted evil brew. However, if I didn't drink coffee, my family would then leave me home.  I get grumpy without the stuff.

Last month, we drove to Bozeman for a graduation party.  We were running a little late for the event because of an unexpected errand at the last minute.  We drove to Townsend, but I was sure I could make it the hour and twenty minutes to our destination.  Fifteen miles later, I regretted the decision. Yes, we stopped at Wheat so I could save my poor bladder.  Thank goodness for truck stops and rest stops.

Day 98: Crossing Lines

Are there any lines that you simply will not cross?

I don’t like absolutes.  How do I know I won’t cross a line if I haven’t been tempted or desperate enough?  I can sit here at my desk, in my comfortable home, and insist that I will never have an affair, I will never leave my husband, and I will never commit a crime bigger then driving too fast.  Sure, I doubt I will ever do any of these things.  But I know people whom I care about deeply that have crossed some lines.  They have made mistakes.  They have been desperate.  Life can suck at times.  Instead of saying I won’t cross lines, I pray to God to never put me in those positions. To keep me safe.  To keep me strong.

Day 97: Novel Update

As I have stated before, 2018 my writing struggled.  My hope was that this year I would be cruising with the words.  Nope. 

I wanted to be done with the first 2/3rds of the novel by the end of last week.  With Madelle doing better, this week I planned to do a writing challenge.  I was supposed to have chapter 17 finished and the last 3^rd of the novel plotted.  Again, nope.

Last week, I hoped for 5,000 words.  I missed it by 2,300.  Lame.  If I had done those words, I would be done with the chapter.  Instead, today I will work on the last two scenes.  I hope to brainstorm as well.  Do you see the pattern?  Hope, nope, hope, nope.  Gurr.

Writing can be a frustrating companion.  I always think about it.  I make plans, and they fall to pieces.  Luckily, I am stubborn and persistent.  I so wanted this book done last year.  Now, I want it sent to my nonexistent editor by May.  Will this happen?  I hope.  If this ends in a nope, I will just keep plugging away. 

My goal for the week?  I hope for 10,000 words.  With a trip to Billings, I will be happy with 5,000 words.  Oh, just keep writing.

Day 96: The Rainbow

Thank you for the gift of being my father-in-law!!!

Thirty-one years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Don Richard, the man who raised the guy I was dating.  Oh, that was so long ago.  A year later, Don became my father-in-law.  When he heard we had no plans for a honeymoon (all our money was going to college), he handed my new husband enough money for two nights stay in Red Lodge.  We were so grateful.

The memories I have are so plentiful.  He loved every dessert I made.  Celebrating Madelle's last birthday, I smiled as his eyes danced while we sang her happy birthday and he ate a coconut cupcake.  He wanted more grandkids when he saw our huge basement in Hardin.  I told him he would need a new daughter-in-law.  He smiled and said he would rather keep me.  The times he came and stole Michel on Saturday mornings to eat pancakes with Grandma and Grandpa Richard.  I will forever be thankful for the time we lived in Wolf Point when we saw him all the time.

This morning I was incredible sad.  The sadness has come and gone these last four days since he passed away.  I was driving home from working and stopping for coffee.  As I drove over the interstate, I saw a section of a rainbow.  Not something I see often in Montana in January.  Don was saying he is still here with us.  He was telling me everything is going to be fine.  He loves all of us and he is proud of all of us.  And he knows we feel exactly the same way. We love you.

Don and his boys.

Some of my favorite men!!!

Don loved bird watching.  I think I got this from him.

Day 95: Household Chores

Which household chores are you responsible for?  Which do you hate doing? Which ones do you actually like?

Ever since I retired, I have been responsible for all chores around the house minus cooking and changing light bulbs.  I know, light bulbs? My husband is tall and I just need him to do something besides dishes. A quirk of mine. I hate sweeping and mopping.  I hate dusting. I hate cleaning the bathroom. Really, I don’t like any chores because they take away time from my writing and other fun activities.  And they are called chores. Yuck!!!

With that said, when my hands are cold, I love doing dishes. When I am angry, I love putting all the negative energy into cleaning.  I love living in a clean house. I also am thankful when I am doing chores and ideas for my writing pop into my thoughts. This is amazing and I love it. However, if I ever make enough money consistently, I will hire someone to do the majority of chores for me.

Day 94: Messes

Write about a messy area in your home, workplace, or life.

Oh, my word, there are so many messy places in my life.  We have lived in our house for over 18 years. With three kids, every area is filled.  Granted, most of Clay and Michel’s things are gone.  This summer I hope to go through the garage and box things up.  Clay isn’t established yet, so I will have to keep his things. And I might have one box of Michel’s.  I also have to keep Madelle’s for quite a few more years.

With all of that said, the last few months, I have been looking around the house at all the clutter.  I began going through the main rooms.  I am happy to say that the living room is pretty good.  I could go through one cupboard again, but I will let it rest for another six months or so.  I have a cabinet to go through in the dining room/second living room, but this room is also good.  Yay. I do have to hit the kitchen and all the closets in the house.  Ugh!!!  Oh, and the garage is a disaster!!!

The other messy area is my yard.  Since the summer of 2016, I have struggled in this area (not that I was perfect before 2016).  With the passing of my dad and my health giving me fits, I haven’t accomplished a lot.  I need to get a handle on the vegetable garden, quite expanding flower gardens, and keep up with the north 40.  What I need the most is a riding lawn mower.  I am hopefully going to work on that this spring.  We will see.

These are most of the messy areas I have to cope with this coming year.  The house is about 40% better since Christmas.  Now to finish it and start on the garage when it warms up.  Yep, this will be a busy year!

Day 93: Discovery

Write about a good discovery you have made (big or small).

For years, I used this black potato masher to get my lefse made.  I really hate this masher.  A lot of the time little bits of potatoes didn’t mash all the way leaving tiny lumps of potato in the lefse.  I didn’t really think of finding a way to make it better.  After about twenty-eight years of this method of mashing potatoes, my father-in-law gave my husband his grandmother’s ricer.  I had heard of ricers, but didn’t have a clue and didn’t care enough about my potato issue to do the research or by another gadget for my already cluttered kitchen.  Well, the next time I made lefse and grumbled at the potatoes, I remembered the ricer.  My lefse making days are so much easier!  The lumps are nonexistent.  I have sent my thanks to Grandma Antoinette every year since.  What a great discovery!!!

Day 92: Fear

How do you act when you are afraid?

I would say this depends on what I am afraid of.  I don’t react the same way with all the different things I fear.  I will say that I am not very often a courageous lion type.

Many years ago, I did learn how I react when I am a battle situation.  The summer I spent two weeks at Camp Williams, Utah, I learned I would never be a hero that rushed into danger.  My squad and I were on a mission with our MILES (multiple integrated laser engagement system) gear.  We went up against another squad.  Half of my squad did great.  I was supposedly the leader, but I followed them and let them be in harms way, hiding behind anything I could find.  I did fire my weapon, but I wasn't proud of my actions.  I hated ever minute of our battle on the hilltop.  We took the hill because my people where good.  I learned that combat wasn’t my forte and I would remain a desk jockey.

I also panic.  Years ago, my cheesecake caught on fire in the oven.  I yelled at Jerry to come help while I danced around in the kitchen watching him be smart and use the fire extinguisher on the dessert.  I would have watched it burn.  Stupid.  I panic on any carnival ride or rollercoaster that takes me high up in the sky, especially if my legs are dangling.  My family laughs at me.  I keep my eyes closed and sometimes curse like a sailor. 

Other times, I do focus and keep my fear at bay.  I pray.  I breath deeply.  I often avoid the situation.  I also work at keeping the fear next to my heart, especially when it comes to my children.  I don't want them to know my fears about the future for them, especially for my daughter.  I put on a brave face and cheer them on.

Day 91: Selfish

In what way are you selfish?

I am selfish in the area of I want to travel a lot.  Because of his work, my husband travels all over the place.  Sure, the areas he travels to aren’t on my long bucket list, but they are new and he always finds a way to have fun.  Thus, when he mentions going on a personal trip, I always think it should be traveling instead.  I get so jealous.  And do I ever pout.  Not an attractive characteristic!  The funny thing is he is more then willing for me to go on all sorts of trips.  The problem is I look at the checkbook first and find a place to save more money for a rainy day.  I let the rest of the family have a rainy day, but I rarely take mine.  I play the martyr card which I hate about myself.  I want to try and fix that this year.  In February, I might just go on a little trip somewhere in the state.  I want to take a writing retreat.  Hopefully, I will have more to write about that later.

Day 90: Heaven On Earth

When have you experienced “heaven on earth?”

A lot of people may disagree, but my moments of “heaven on earth” happen at least once a year.  Actually, more often even then that. I find heaven in the outdoors.  I may only get to travel on the highways of Montana, but the mountains I travel through shroud me in God’s grace.  I take walks in the outdoors as often as I am able and find my piece of heaven whether it it is on Mt. Helena, Spring Meadow Lake, Helena Valley Reservoir, or simply driving through the Seeley Swan or other great drives in the state.  Oh, and when I see an eagle, hawk, or falcon, I feel so close to my creator. I am truly blessed in nature.

I would have to add that my gardens and all gardens are another place that brings heaven to my day.  In the fall specifically, I sit in my writing room looking through the window at all the birds on my sunflowers.  I love them.  I also experience heaven as I work in the dirt and delight in a new flower.  I feel close to God when I am in a garden.  Again, I am very blessed.

Day 89: Pay

What do you wish you could get paid for?

Wow, there are a lot of things I wish I would get paid for.  I must confess.  I love money. Obviously, I would love to get paid for my writing.  Every day, I work on my morning pages, my journal.  For the last couple of months, I upload blog posts daily.  I also work on my novels and short stories.  I need to go out and look, but I think I have made about $50.00 with all my work in 2018.  I worked 667 hours.  Nope, I am not going to do the math.  Way to depressing.

I also would love to get paid for doing my housework.  Some people would say that just living in a clean house is payment enough.  Not for me.  I do love living in a clean, organized house, but I would rather write, garden, paint, take pictures, and a ton of other things.  I have been so thankful that after Christmas I have been motivated to declutter and clean.  I hope to keep up all this work, but I am sure once the spring weather hits, I will be playing outside instead of cleaning.

The list of other things I would like to get paid for?  I am not even going to go there.  Writing and housework are the main activities.  Someday, I hope the money will roll in from my writing.  When that happens, I will pay someone else to do the cleaning.  Until then, I am thankful for being retired.  Sure, the money isn’t great, but the free time is amazing!!!

Day 88: Guilty Pleasures

“I think that often as writers age, their stories seem to age with them, become less accessible to young readers and feel more irrelevant to them. So it’s important to keep reading, to keep watching, to keep playing and studying, so that you keep learning to speak in the same language of the heart as your fans.”  David Farland, “Fixating on a Story”, David Farland’s Writing Tips, November, 10, 2018.

David’s words jumped out at me.  I cheered. Finally, I have an excuse to continue with my guilty pleasure of watching teen coming of age movies.  My excuse used to be that I liked to keep a beat on the things being presented to my children. In reality, I love to see the journey of a young person.  I love to see them conquer, to fall in love, to have hope for the future, to learn. The stories take me back to my time as a young person, reminding me of all that I have faced and conquered.

Over the years, I have had the honor and pleasure to watch my kids and my dear friend’s kids conquer their worlds.  Just this year, dear Brit and James graduated from college. Now, I am watching them swim the waters of adulthood in finding jobs and going on to the next phase.  Our dear Melissa has three children in grade school. I am having fun watching them grow and can’t wait for them to hit the teen years and see them conquer.

I have always hated the saying, “kids these day,” .... grumble, grumble, grumble.  Fill in with some lame complaint. “We didn’t act that way. We were more respectful.”  I have seen the news clips of the flower children movement from the Sixties. Many of those youth were far from respectful.  I was a pretty great kid, and I know I wasn’t respectful 24/7. I have never wanted to be one of those old people who say such stupid stuff.  Instead, I put myself into memory mode. And I keep myself young by watching the current story of our teens. They are amazing people.

Best of all, I can now say I am doing research when I watch teen shows.

Day 87: Campfires

Write about a memory you have related to a campfire.

Wow, really there are so many.  We camped a lot when I was a little girl.  We went with the Butts family so many weekends that I couldn’t even begin to count.  Also in the winter, all of us would go to one of the lakes to ice fish. The dads always built a nice toasty fire for us kids to warm up by when we rested from playing.  At least once a year, Grandma and Grandpa Hedahl came to Lincoln County to fish on Lake Koocanusa. Actually, the fire wasn’t half as spectacular as watching the stars and satellites with Grandpa.

I don’t do many campfires anymore.  We do at least one in the backyard every year.  Our neighbors do quite a few and they invite us over for the evening.  I miss them. I always vow to do more throughout the warm season and find when the snow falls that I have failed at my vow.

My  most memorable fires aren’t technically campfires.  The best were bonfires. The difference? The size.  Every fall for Homecoming, truck loads of scrap wood would be piled up in the baseball field.  On the Thursday night before the big game, they lit the fire and us kids would have a good time cheering and carrying on.  One year, I went to two Homecoming fires. We had moved from Eureka to Libby my freshman year. Senior year, I went to both. 

I was a little disappointed when I realized they don’t have bonfires in Helena.  My kids never had the experience. Well, not as a school function. They went to the lake and carried the tradition on with their friends.  I am sure there are stories with that I don’t want to hear.

Day 86: Love Story Part 3

As Hinn bounded up the stairs, the opened door revealed his worst nightmare.  His brother lay on top of Frida on the floor.  Heavy breathing could be heard, his, from the long run from the caverns, or his brother’s he couldn’t tell.  The troll rage thundered through Hinn.  The pounding of his heart joined the chorus of dissonance as he flew across the room.  The ringing of metal scratched across the sheath as he pulled out his sword.

Hurling himself forward, Hinn thrust the blade forward without hesitation.  Like a knife through butter, the sword slide through the neck of his older brother.  Blood sprayed through the air.  A grunt was all his brother uttered and he fell forward off Hinn’s blade, smothering Frida.  Tossing the sword to the side with a clatter, Hinn gripped the shirt with blood seeping down the back and flung the dead body to the side.

Blood covered Frida’s face and torso.  Her eyes closed to the world.  She didn’t stir.  Panic gripped his chest as he fell to his knees.  He gathered her up in his arms when he realized her blood seeped through her tattered skirt.  Standing up, he roared.  Her eyes fluttered open.

“Take me to the orchard house.”  They will call for Marketta,” her whispered words tore at his heart.

His long strides carried them down the path towards the castle grounds through the fading light.  As softly as he could, he kept her close to his chest to not jostle her body.  He longed to race to the house but knew the impact would cause further harm.  The trees whipped past him.  Birds flew up in fright as he passed under the branches.  A deer jumped out of his path.  Finally, he saw a trickle of smoke in the distance.  The trees changed from aspens to apple and plum as he made his way to the little house.  He pounded on the door.  The house shook from his big fists.

In moments, the door swung wide as a human female with large blue eyes traveled up to his face.  Her mouth formed into a circle of surprise and her eyes grew wider.  Her hands protectively clasped her growing womb.

“Help,” he pleaded.

Another woman popped her head around the door.  “Frida,” she exclaimed.  “Quickly, Hinn, bring her inside.”  She rushed to the table, clearing the mugs and plates with half eaten cookies off to the counter.  The pregnant woman of the house helped, though her hands shook almost causing her to drop the pot of steaming tea.

Hinn lowered Frida onto the flat surface.  Stepping back, he watched as the thin woman in a brown healer’s dress and ivory apron placed her hands on Frida’s abdomen.  Blue flame leaped from her fingertips and traveled up and down her body.  The flame from the woman’s right hand stopped at Frida’s female area.  The rest traveled quickly up to Frida’s head and winked out.  The woman moved her hand down to Frida’s pelvis.  The blue flame turned into a pulsing blue haze.

While the work continued, the pregnant woman poured boiling water and cold water into a basin.  With a clean cloth, she came to the table.  With gentle strokes, she wiped at the blood left from death of the troll.

Frida’s eyes flickered open.  Her hand grabbed out towards Hinn.  He stepped back in fear of breaking her further.  Shaking his head, he longed to flee from the room, but he must remain to know for certain she lived.  Never again would he place her in jeopardy.  Tears trickled down both of their faces.

The healer lifted her hands once the blue haze dissolved.  She turned to Hinn with her index finger pointed at him.  “You, you almost killed her.”

He lowered his head, guilt washing away the rage.

“No, Marketta, he saved me,” Frida sat up with the help of the pregnant woman who then melted into the background.  “I was attacked by a stranger.”

“A human didn’t do this.  You can’t convince me of that.  I know it was a troll.  It was him.”

Again, Frida reached out her hand, but this time she grabbed the healer’s forearm.  “Yes, it was a troll, but I don’t know who he was.”

“You are correct, Mistress Marketta,” Hinn interrupted.  “The fault is mine.  The troll that did this was my brother.  He was taking revenge on me by trying to cut my heart out through Frida.  I won’t allow this to happen again.”  He looked over to Frida.  “I will remove the body and clean the cabin.”

“You killed your brother, for Frida?” Marketta asked in disbelief.  “The trolls hold clan above all else.  You truly love her.”

Without diverting his gaze from Frida’s eyes, he addressed Marketta.  “Of course, I love her.  She is part of my clan.  I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.  This is why we will never see each other again.”

“Don’t be a stubborn fool,” Frida choked.  She slid off the table to take a step.  Her legs faltered, and she fell back to steady herself.  “I know the risks I take.  We are to bring our races together.  We can be together.”

“No,” he growled.  “Everything has changed.  I will have to be the leder of the clan now that my brother is dead.  I no longer have the luxury of mating with you.  My clan comes first.”

Before more could be said, he turned away from her and left the cabin.  His exit wasn’t soon enough.  He heard Frida's heart wrenching sob follow him out the door.  He hardened his heart as he sprinted down the trail to the cabin.  The words of the Doden Sang bellowed from his mouth.  The death chant of his clan.  At the end of the litany of the troll history, he added the refrain of his loss of a brother who betrayed him and the love of his life.