Behind the Evergreens
by
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Up the road, away from town, he climbed the embankment and stepped into the cool, September forest. He took slow steps on his solitary tramp, feeling lonely and low of spirit. He arrived at the blackberry patch at the edge of the old stump lot. Acknowledging that the blackberries had gone by, he sat himself on a moss-cushioned log beneath a crabapple tree. A brook murmured peacefully nearby, and the monotonous song of the evergreens swelling and falling in the gentle breeze brought on a full-blown case of melancholy. He sat there lonesome and dreaming for half an hour, until the warning cry of a mother partridge and the startling whir of wings when her brood burst away in brief flight nearby, brought George back from his ponderous dreaming. As he wondered what had startled the birds, Hilda limped into the clearing with that oversized bucket in her tiny, white-knuckled hand. She stopped, paused for a moment and looked into George’s eyes. Her expression of acute unhappiness did not change when she saw him. An overwhelming concern brought him to his feet. He could see by the tightness of the apron that wrapped her small frame that she no longer carried her child. Hilda struggled with walking toward him, and he met her halfway across the clearing. Silently, solemnly, he pried the bucket from her fingers and set it on the ground. When he pulled her into his arms, she burst into tears and sobbed from deep within her soul for her children lost, for this man she would never have as her own, and for freedom from her hopeless situation. George’s heart felt near the breaking point itself as a tear slipped down his own cheek and landed upon her faded, yellow bonnet. "My dear Hilda," he said softly to her. "I am so sorry." She cried upon his green and black plaid hunting shirt, and when she finished, he gave her his good handkerchief. "My wife passed away three weeks ago. Had you heard?" he asked, unable to release her. She took his handkerchief and wiped her eyes and looked up into his kind brown eyes and bearded face. "I heard folks coming and going," she said hoarsely, "but Vernon said nothing of it to me, nor didst I dare ask. I’ve only been up from my bed this week. I’m sorry about Myrtle. Truly I am." He helped her sit on the log beneath the crabapple tree, took up her bucket and picked crabapples for her, skillfully tossing away the wormiest ones. Hilda watched his every move for a few moments, then rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. He worked diligently until the bucket was filled, then sat beside the bucket at her feet. Able to study her from so close, she looked devastated. He wished there was a way to alleviate her suffering or prevent her from returning to Vernon and continued danger. "Tell me something of yourself," he said, needing to hear the sound of her voice, desiring to gaze into her hazel eyes. She sat up. Their eyes met. "I mustn’t. He’ll kill me if I do," she whispered. She looked away, unable to trust herself alone with such a good man. "Why ever would he do such a thing?" he whispered in despair. He reached out and turned her face toward his. "Please tell me, I must know."
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About the Book
This historical novel, set in 1868, is about the hopeful union of two neighbors, George and Hilda, who live in cottages on opposite sides of a dirt road on the outskirts of Brattleboro, Vermont. Rich with life in that era, this is a story of stolen love during a time when divorce was regarded as scandalous. Will George develop the nerve to steal Hilda from the abusive man she has been forced to live with across the road? Will they escape from the madman or will he hunt them down?
About the Author
In 1950, Diane Herrick was born in Brattleboro, Vermont into a family whose history goes back six generations in the area. In this historical and romantic novel, she has captured the township, its people and the 1860’s beautifully. In addition to working full-time in social services, she is a twenty-five year writing veteran and a graduate of the late Gary Provost’s Advanced Writer’s Retreat Workshop. Her other works in progress are Down River, an early 1800’s Connecticut River historical adventure; Vague Doubts, a modern romantic suspense; and The Woodshed, a saga set in 1890’s rural Vermont.