The Last Waltz

Chapter 1

Poppy's pencil flew across the page as she sketched the abandoned folly. It looked like a place where fairies and goblins might live, which was perfect for her latest children's story. The folly was two stories of warm stone and covered in ivy. The door hung crookedly, and the windows were long since gone, but it spoke of a secret getaway, somewhere no one else would ever know about. Her creative mind ran wild with romantic stories of passion or horror that could occur there.

Of course, the girl next to her, chatting away, would sometimes kill the vibe, but it was evident she was lonely and needed someone with whom to talk.

Poppy had been visiting the site on and off for a week, and the girl, Mary, had taken the time to seek Poppy out whenever she visited the ruin after she had accidentally stumbled upon Poppy the first day. Poppy had a soft heart and had visited the site a few more times than needed, but she knew Mary would be waiting for her and didn't want to disappoint her.

Poppy glanced at the young girl whom she placed at about 11 years of age. Her hair was a light brown and fell in a thick braid over one shoulder. Her pert nose was covered in freckles, and her green eyes flashed with amusement when she looked at Poppy's drawing. There was no doubt that she would be a stunning young lady in a few years.

"You've caught it!" Mary crowed in her thick Scottish brogue, making Poppy blush a little at her praise.

"Do you think so?" Poppy studied it with her head tilted. This one was darker in tone than her past attempts, which had been overly romanticized.

"You know, people see fairies as sweet children's characters, but they really are mean bitches."

"Mary!" Poppy chastised. "Watch your language."

"Sorry." Mary rolled her eyes. "But they are very mean."

"Yes, but no one wants to read a story about mean fairies," Poppy insisted as she started to pack her things away, ready to go back to her little cottage on the main street of the nearby village and have her lunch.

Mary shrugged. "Everyone I know would."

Poppy shook her head and laughed. Maybe the kids of Mary's generation would at that. Perhaps she should write her story two ways and see which one the publisher liked the best. She was mulling it over as an ATV roared up behind them.

Poppy turned and jumped up, afraid that the vehicle wouldn't stop in time. Mary, on the other hand, sighed dramatically as only a put-out pre-teen could.

"Who are you, and why are you on my land? You're trespassing!" The large man demanded with the same thick Scottish brogue as Mary as he, with surprising grace, got out of the ATV. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that showed off all his muscles.

He was huge! The men in Poppy's family were tall, but this man was not only tall he was all muscle. He reminded her of a bulldog straining at the leash with barely controlled power. As he approached, she was forced to tilt her head back to see him from under the baseball cap bill. He had a thick, medium-length beard, and his lightish brown hair had tones of red where the sun glinting through the trees hit it.

"I'm Poppy, and I wasn't aware I was trespassing. There were no signs or fences to stop me on my walk. Perhaps you should rectify that if you don't want people on your land." Poppy watched his stony face as it gazed down at her, his brown eyes taking in every detail of her appearance.

"You're American," it was almost an accusation.

"Is that a problem?" Poppy asked, swinging her bag over her shoulder. He really was a large man, so it would probably be prudent to be frightened of him, but she didn't get that vibe off him.