Chapter 1
October 1917, Oak Plains, NC
AHIGH-PITCHED HOWL SPLIT THROUGHthe shadowed dusk, echoing against the towering pines of the forest. Its haunting refrain incited a chill over Kizzie McAdams’ skin.
Her attention shot toward the sound, but the twilit woods gave no visible answer. She didn't have to see the wild glowing eyes to know what followed her in the dark.
Coyotes.Her breath snagged on the very thought.
With a tighter grip to her tattered travel bag, she stumbled forward, her protruding abdomen contracting into a hard ball of needled pains. The spasms had been coming more regularly, but she wasn't sure how seriously to take them. Pain knifed a little deeper as if in answer.
Sunset bowed to nightfall's cloak, lengthening the shadows along her path, its last golden-red hues dying into the gloaming like a foretaste of her immediate future.
Her body shivered from the mixture of her pain and her thoughts.
No. She rubbed her palm over her stomach. She had to keep going. Only a little longer now. A mile? Maybe less?
Charles Morgan's land waited on the other side of the woods. If she could only get to him, he'd take care of her. He'd told her he loved her.
Her hand smoothed against the tightness of her stomach.
And this baby.
After all, if people love you, they take care of you, don't they?
The question echoed back to her in mockery, and the renewed memory of her daddy's unrelenting words barreled through her mind.
You done ruint yourself, girl. And I ain't got no place for ruint young'uns.
Her breath lodged in her throat.
Charles had to help her.
She hobbled a few more steps, her unbalanced weight paired with the uneven terrain slowing her progress. Her attention raised to the thin gold band clinging to the horizon like the finish ribbon in a footrace.
Just a little farther.
She glanced back the way she'd come, the forest leaving no trail of her slow journey. Fresh tears threatened her vision, and she almost laughed at the impossibility of their presence. How did she have any tears left? She'd cried on and off for the last two months, moving from one closed door to another. After leaving her parents’ house deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, her daddy's angry rejection and her mama's pleas replayed over and over in her mind.
“Don't cast her out, Sam,” her mama had begged.
The sober faces of her siblings as they watched Kizzie take the long trek down the road from the only home she'd ever known haunted her.
But Daddy had disowned her.
Sent her away forever.
And she'd never see them again.
With what little money Kizzie had, she'd attempted to find a job in various towns over the last two months, but no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman without a husband to claim.
Each place offered the same rejection, the same glances of shame.
So she'd wandered until she used up the last of her money and decided she only had one place left to go.
Her body ached. Dirt caked beneath her fingernails and in her hair. The boys at school had once called her the prettiest girl on the mountain, but no trace of that girl existed now. Leaves knotted in her dark hair, and scratches from the forest left marks along her arms and cheeks. She wasn't sure how bad they looked, but her tears alerted her of their presence on her face.
The last three nights, she'd slept on hard, cold forest ground, dreaming of the warmth of her family's cabin, only to wake up hungrier and more alone than the day before.
