Whispered Secrets

Part One

In a small cottage on the south side of a tiny village called Bargersville, a girl by the name of Scarlett sat on her sofa that was centered before a fireplace.  The rock mantle housed a candle that burned steadily, one that her mother had made herself.  Scarlett stared at the short, fat candle, thinking while she looked, as the flickering light reflected in her dark green eyes.  Her eyes were like the color of a holly branch: dark, glossy, and sharp.

"Scarlett, dear," commented her mother.  "Don't stare at the candle in such a way.  You will hurt your eyes."

"Oh don't be worrisome, Mother," Scarlett replied, but glanced away from the bright candle immediately.  Her eyes watered as they adjusted to the dimness of the room and she wished she wouldn't have gotten so lost in the wretched thing.  But her eyes held and no matter how much she tried to break the spell, only her mothers voice did the trick.

She unwrapped herself from the safety of her quilt.  Her thin dress drug the cold, wooden floor as she stepped carefully across the den.  The full moon shone in from the window and cast shadows throughout the room.  Mother sat in her rocking chair, her reading lantern on the hook father had fastened for her.  The Bible lay in her hands as her glasses perched upon her nose and she never even raised her eyes or showed any sign as to whether she was the least bit concerned or aware of Scarlett's departure.

Her footsteps made no noise as she crossed the hall to her bedroom.  She quickly found her hide shoes with the sheep fur insulation and padded her way to the front door.  She tied her red cloak around her shoulders and stepped out on the porch, quiet as a mouse, as she lifted her hood.

A fresh blanket of snow lay on the grass as she stepped out onto it.  Mother's reading lantern still glowed through the frosted window though the details were blurred.  Her silouhette filled the also opaque chair that rocked to and fro in a rhythmic fashion.  Scarlett had made it out.

As she made her way further, past the window, and felt the red cloak flap around her, she remembered the time her Mother had presented it to her.  "A scarlett cloak for a young lady to whom it suits."  Mother had beamed, and Scarlett was very pleased.  It was made of the finest material from around and deemed a much to swell of a gift to be given for a birthday.  But she still got it and she wasn't going to complain.

She peered into the woods to the east of her cottage and searched for the glow that would be the signal.  She ran towards it when it appeared, her cloak billowing even further behind her.  The lamp leading her swung slightly in the breeze from a dead branch and as she reached it, the flame was extinguished.  Whoosh.

The spruce trees around her fell into an eerie darkness.  She stopped abruptly and took an unsteady breath.  "Hello?" Scarlett choked, the whisper slipping from her lips fearfully.  She desperately wanted him to show.

"Hello," came a voice from behing a tree.  Scarlett took a cautious step towards it.

"Over here." A rustle came from the trees opposite where she stood.  She spun around, anxiously wanting to know where the rustic and seductive voice was coming from.  

"Are you there?" she asked into the quiet.

"Guess who," breathed the same voice, his breath hot on her neck, sending chills down her spine.