Chapter One: Rescue

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I grab some breakfast from Pearson's wagon. It's about 6am. I take a deep breath of the fresh air in Horseshoe Overlook this morning, and enjoy the lush green scenery...

For all of about thirty seconds.

"Miss Jones, get to work, right now!" Miss Grimshaw yells at Karen.

"Oh, what joy," Karen mutters sarcastically. I can't help but smile.

"You too, Miss Matthews," Miss Grimshaw says to me, slightly nicer than how she said it to Karen. To be fair, I've known her for about twenty years and I hardly ever complain...

That's an absolute lie.

"Alright, let me finish this and I'll be on it," I say, and sigh slightly when she leaves. I could be out adventuring... except it isn't ladylike. I want nothing more than to explore this new place. There's a town called Valentine not far north from here. In fact, the Heartlands seem like a nice place. Green plains, from what I've seen when we moved down here from Colter, way up in Grizzlies West. It was so cold up there, usually less than zero degrees. Here it's about fifteen... the ideal temperature. My favourite weather.

After all the Blackwater business, I thought that maybe things would go sour. But they haven't thus far, if you don't count people dying and being in the freezing snow for a week or so. But things are starting to look up.

At this, I finish my breakfast and get to work.

*

It takes me about six hours to get my chores done. Usually it's only three to four hours but we just moved camp so everything's a bit up in the air, though we should have been set up entirely yesterday – the day after we moved. Of course, that never happens. There's always more to unpack, and then we have to wash the clothes for warmer weather before they can be warm, and weapons need to be cleaned and there's always sewing to be done. Everyone is in good spirits, though. It's like a new chapter in our lives. I decide to quickly journal a bit. I've done it for years, and I started a new book not so long ago. In fact, I started it in Colter. That was Chapter One, as I've named it. I've always wanted to write a book, but I never knew what to write, that's my problem. Mary-Beth wants to write romances, which is nice. She's the romantic sort, though she calls her favourite books 'silly romances'. I don't exactly think they're silly. I'm a sucker for a good love story, but at the same time... the books are kind of ridiculous. Still, they're pretty stories, filled with romantic gestures and mentions of true love every two pages, so there's that.

Dutch has his poetry; I don't understand a word of it. I've never been a poetry kind of girl, any mention of it and I die inside a little. Dutch gets all philosophical about it, and apparently every single word has a deeper meaning. I don't get it, but if he does, then that's not my business.

Jack has his little kid books. He's just now learning to read. He's four years old and possibly the sweetest little kid I've ever met. He picks flowers for me and Abigail, his mother, almost every day. You see, after John left for a year just after Jack was born (he was convinced that Jack wasn't his), I helped Abigail through her sorrow and when she needed an extra pair of hands, I was there. I'm like an aunt to Jack, I guess.

I hope that kid turns out okay.

*

"Where are you going?" Lenny asks me as I ride out of camp. He's on guard duty today, or at least, this afternoon.

"Exploring. I want to see everything here," I say with a small smile.

"Alright, enjoy it," he replies.

I ride down the path and through the trees. I'm hit with a dazzling ray of sunlight. I pat Isabella, my white Arabian, and set off for Valentine.

*

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