The True Story of Love

Destiny's Rose - [1]

[Author's Note: I completely rewrote the beginning to the story. Please forget the first part to the story. Enjoy!] 

Sara Jane Allan was born in the middle of winter on a cold, stormy night. The only light came from the candles lit at intervals around the home. Upon lucky chance, the midwife had stopped by before the storm started, and stayed to deliver Sara. The storm lasted for three days after the sweet baby girl was born. All the time, the little gilr would not move aside from the motions of nursing that curved upon her lips. When the storm had subsided, and snow covered the ground, the baby was taken  outside to see her first snow. As soon as the sun touched the newborn baby, stretched out her tiny body and opened her eyes to the wide world around her. Her pale milk skin, soft and flawless, absorbed the sun. Ever since that first day Sara had seen the sun, she had loved the heat on her skin. Sara was still in love with that same feeling as she lay in the field, six months and sixteen years later. She felt the sun warm on her skin, while the light breeze swayed the tall grass around her. The wisps of air swept over her, bringing smells of home, trees, and pond life. She heard the soft thud of footsteps coming toward her. A boy, around her same age, was approaching her. His messy blonde hair stood on end as it always did while his blue eyes searched her muddy green ones.

"Sit down, John," Sara ordered, "you're blocking the sun."

"Ah, yes, that sun," he sighed as he lay down beside her, "why do you love the sun?"

"Why not? It's warm and wonderful and it breathes life into everything it touches," she replied obstinately. Nothing could convince her otherwise.

"You'll dry up from being in the sun too much," he said with a poke aimed at her belly.

"No, I won't," she protested, while poking him back.

"Don't poke me," John told her, playfully offended.

"And why shouldn't I?" Sara questioned defiantly, and with that they were wrestling in the field, laughing all the while. John finally had her pinned down and told her to admit defeat.

"Never!" She shouted and with that she flipped him over saying, "now it's your turn to admit-"

SARA JANE ALLAN! JOHN AARON MITCHELL! YOU TWO GET UP RIGHT THIS SECOND!" Sara's mother's furious voice filled the air, sending the two scrambling to their feet. Both children looked down and fastidiously brushed the dirt off their garments.

"What were you two thinking?! It is not proper for a young lady and a young man to be WRESTLING! In a field no less, oh my, oh my. What are we going to do with you two?"

"We're sorry, Mother, We didn't mean any harm," Sara said, hiding the slight smile that was threatening to emerge on her face.

"Well, you're covered in dirt and grime and oh my, oh my! Look, you're all cut up from the grass. Sara, you will be bathing immediately. John, it is time for you to go home," Mrs. Allan ordered, her tone leaving no room for question.

"Yes ma'am," John told Mrs. Allan with respect, and after taking one last glance at Sara, started his trek home.

"Now, Sara, how many times have I told you, 'proper young ladies cannot go off into a field with men'?"

"But he's not a man, Mother, he's just John," Sara complained.

Ignoring Sara's comment, Mrs. Allan continued, "Go get your bath water from the well and hurry home. It looks as though a storm is coming."

"Yes, mother," Sara mumbled, she started towards the well; the sun was still high, but dark clouds were speeding toward the Allan's farm. As Sara hastened her pace, her sister, Natalie, looked out the window of their cabin.

"Mother, come quick! Look at these storm clouds," Natalie said, pointing out the window, "where's Sara?"

"Sara's just getting some bath water," Sara's mother said, kissing the top of her youngest daughter's head, "don't worry, she'll get here before the clouds do." With one last worried glance out the window, Mrs. Allan went back to her housework with a bit more anxiety driving her.

Sara drew up one last bucket from the well, and loaded it onto the cart they keep by the well for ease of carrying. As she was pulling the cart toward her family's home, she felt a drop of water fall on her head, followed shortly by another. Within twenty paces, it was a total downpour from the Heavens. Sara raced for her home, where her worried mother waited ringing her hands.

"Oh, where is that girl?" Sara's mother muttered to herself, "she always knows just how to worry me to the grave." Sara burst through the door at that moment, soaked to the core with rain.

"Oh my, oh my! Sweetheart, you nearly gave me a heart attack with anxiety. I was you might have gotten lost in the storm, "Sara's mother exclaimed, clutching her heart, "and look at you. You're soaked! Well, let's get you dried off and into your bed. I believe you're well clean enough."

Sara didn't reply before going upstairs to her bedroom and change. As soon as she was in warm, dry night clothes, she sat with her father in front of the fireplace, and listened to the story he chose to tell that night.

*   *   *

"NO!," Cole protested to his parents, " I won't marry someone I don't know."

"I'm sorry, son, there's nothing you can do about this. We signed the papers. It's for the good of everyone," Cole's father told him looking stern, though remorse shone through his eyes.

"Why is it me? I tired so hard to be right. You know how hard I worked," Cole protested, "I worked so hard and now you're marrying me away? No, you can't do this!"

"Son' you can't argue this," Cole's mother told him with a timid tone, "we're done talking about this. You're packing up tomorrow, and you'll set off on the two month journey in three days."

The door closed to Cole's room, him on one side, his parents on the other.

"I won't marry someone I don't love," Cole reassured himself.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Sam asked him with an almost taunting attitude.

"I... don't know," Cole admitted with a sigh, "but I have to do something. I know it's my 'duty' to do as I'm told, but I can't do it. It's too much."

Cole's mind whirled for the next night, hours slipping away without sleep, when an idea came to Cole's mind. It was brilliant, but flawed. It might work, but he would need help. With the beginnings to a plan, Cole finally fell asleep.