Page 3 of To Ride the Wind

“Actually, it couldn’t have been a shadow,” she told her father. “It wasn’t dark but white. I’ve never seen a creature with such pristine white fur.”

She expected her father to protest, possibly even to laugh at her, but he did neither. Instead, a strange look passed over his face—an expression almost like fear. Charlotte frowned, but before she could question him, his smile returned.

“Well, well! I suppose anything is possible. These mountains must hold secrets unknown to any man. It is enough that he wasn’t able to get his claws into any of you.”

He gathered up his older daughters into the same hug he had given Charlotte, but they both protested and squirmed out of his grip.

“Tomorrow I’ll check the closest sections of forest before you go out,” he promised them. “If there is any sign of the creature, I’ll drive it off.”

He glanced at the enormous bow and arrow hung beside the door, and Charlotte felt an unexpected tug in her chest. The emotion she had imagined in the bear’s face couldn’t have been real, but she couldn’t shake its lingering effects. It hurt with a melancholy ache to think of the majestic beast riddled with arrows, red blood marring his white fur.

“He wasn’t aggressive,” she said quickly. “I don’t think he meant to hurt us.”

Elizabeth and Odelia both shrieked protests at this suggestion, but her father looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“You don’t wish me to drive it off?” He hesitated and then smiled. “I suppose you must feel a sense of kinship, Charli-bear.”

Elizabeth sniffed loudly. She and Odelia had long ago insisted their father give up his childish nicknames for them, and Charlotte knew they looked down on her for allowing him to still use hers. But while she had submitted to the use of her full name in all other circumstances, she couldn’t bring herself to reject her father’s use of her old pet name. Every time she heard it, she felt warm, like being wrapped in a blanket made of affection and memories of happy times.

“I’ll do my best to scare it away without harming it,” her father said in a softer voice. “Indeed, I would prefer not to harm it. It is no small matter to fight a creature of that size, and who knows what the consequences would be.”

He said the last part quietly, almost to himself, and he didn’t seem to notice the odd look Charlotte gave him. Her mother’s call for them to help prepare the evening meal interrupted the moment, and she lost the chance to question him further. But when she finally lay on her pillow, her ears full of her sister’s even breathing, the image of the bear returned to her mind.

He had almost looked as if he would speak, and as she drifted off to sleep, she realized she would very much like to hear what he was going to say.

CHARLOTTE

She slept fitfully, her rest disturbed by strange dreams of snowy tundras and snarling bears. Consequently, she slept in, and by the time she woke, her sisters were fully dressed, bustling around their shared room while they muttered comments about lazy layabeds.

Charlotte rushed to catch up with them, stuffing herself into her clothes without even taking time to brush her hair. She rarely bothered to enhance her appearance in any way—her looks had been the cause of enough resentment as it was—but she preferred to present herself neatly, at least. She’d slept too late for that on this occasion, however.

But as she finally escaped into the forest, she acknowledged there was no need for tidiness. She wasn’t likely to see anyone else all day. Especially since she was alone for once. Despite their father’s reassurances, her sisters hadn’t been brave enough to venture away from the house so soon after sighting the bear.

Her mother had looked once between her elder daughters and her youngest and declared she had plenty of tasks to keep Elizabeth and Odelia occupied inside. And this time Charlotte felt nothing but gratitude for her mother’s instinct to separate them.

She breathed in the fresh air deeply, glad to be free of the confines of the small house. But as she walked, she glanced back at her home and sighed. The only thing that had reconciled her sisters to their move was the promise that the family would be better off once they had land of their own in a region with plentiful resources. Her father had been full of stories of the wealth of the valley folk, as relayed by his sister.

But so far that wealth had failed to materialize. According to their father, it would be unlocked soon. He often claimed they just needed more time—time he gave cheerfully—before they would reap all the rewards the valley had to offer. But he was never clear about the source of the promised wealth, and the rewards had assumed a mythical status in Charlotte’s mind.

For the moment, they were significantly worse off than they had been in the village. And this reality had likely only exacerbated the recent return of her sisters’ resentment and ill temper. After days of celebration at the home of their much wealthier cousins, it had been difficult for all of them to come back to their own house, but her sisters had been the most affected. Elizabeth and Odelia might have directed their resentment toward Charlotte, but she was far from the only cause of their unhappiness.

Charlotte herself occasionally gave in to bouts of resentment, although she never seemed able to hold onto her irritation for long. She certainly didn’t care about being wealthy—their family’s needs were always met and that was enough for her. But she missed her old home and her friends there, and those feelings had grown hugely since the wedding and the subsequent alienation from her sisters. Would it have been so bad to stay in a village where they were known and valued, even if they were not among its wealthier inhabitants?

She tried to shake off the thoughts and instead enjoy her surroundings. Spring was finally shedding winter’s grip on the landscape, buds poking up everywhere she walked. She watched them with pleasure, keeping a careful eye out for anything edible. After a winter of dried and preserved food, she was longing for greenery on their tables. She wouldn’t be able to gather as much without her sisters, but she was determined not to come home empty-handed. Now that the last of the snow had melted, everyone was looking forward to a greater variety of meals again.

A flash of white once again caught her eye, and the jolt of excitement that shot through Charlotte made her admit what she had really been looking for. She froze, a distant part of her mind screaming to flee for the safe walls of home. Her feet didn’t move, however. She knew she should feel fear, but curiosity burned more strongly. Despite everything, she had to know if she had imagined the expression on the bear’s face the day before.

She barely breathed as he lumbered between two trees, moving in her direction. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she rose on her toes, ready to run if he responded to her presence with aggression.

His large white head swung in her direction, his dark eyes fixing on her. Instantly he froze, reacting just as she had at the sight of him. It was such an unexpected reaction that the breath whooshed from her lungs, her muscles relaxing. More than anything, his surprise seemed so…human.

“You came back.” The words were low and gravelly with a wild edge that hinted at their origin.

But even so, the sound was too shocking to be immediately understood. She opened her mouth, intending to exclaim in surprise, but only a squeak came out.

The bear blinked, still not moving closer.

“When I saw your father searching the woods with his bow this morning,” the bear said, “I thought I had surely frightened you all away.” Seeing his mouth move in time with the words made it impossible to deny the reality of what she’d heard.

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