CHAPTER 1
JILLIAN
Jillian pouted and kicked a chunk of ice into the nearest snowdrift.She and her brother had been riding all day and still hadn’t made it to the next town in New Kristiandom. “Why do we have to go to a stupid matchmaker, anyway?”
“Because, dear sister,” Jake said, giving her a firm look as he pulled his pack off the back of their horse. “You are 22 years old, an old maid by village standards.” He smirked. “Plus, we’re almost out of money.”
Their village still ascribed to the old ways—arranged marriages, women marrying young and making babies, low technology, though she had heard of the new technology and dress some wore and used in other villages. She felt so stifled. And the men did nothing for her. If only she could have been born in a different village that would allow her to live her life as she wanted. Or better yet, if only she had been born a man. She sighed and kicked another ice chunk out of the way.
Jake softened when he saw her trembling lip. “I’m sorry,Jillybean, but this is how it has to be. There’s not much left from Mother’s inheritance, and we need it to get to town, pay the matchmaker, and pay for your dowry.”
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have saved our money and found mates in our own village.” She set her pack down in the snow.
Jake laughed and threw a snowball at her, hitting her square in the back. “You threatened to burn the last guy’s house down, brat.”
She knelt to scoop the firmly packed snow into her hands and spit into it, watching as it hardened. “I wouldn’t have married him for all the gold in the kingdom.”
“He was the richest lord in the entire area,” Jake grumbled and turned back to his task of starting a campfire.
“He was a pig!” She released the ice ball in a satisfying arc watching as it flew through the air three feet from his head.
Jake chuckled. “You never did have a good arm. But I’ll give you credit. You’re getting closer.”
Grr, the man was infuriating! Why did he get to make the decisions about where she lived and whom she married? Just because he was one year older and male. She stomped her foot into a large drift and pretended it was his head.
“Well, it’s not like you had any better luck with the women, dear brother,” she grumbled. “At least I didn’t threaten the mayor’s daughter with a, what did you call it again? Oh, yes,” she smirked, “a sound thrashing.”
“It wasn’t a threat.” Jake’s eyes darkened. “She was a brat. Just like someone else I know.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes as she fed their tired horse the last of the hay. Banbury snorted and nuzzled her hand, as if thanking her. At least she could find comfort in the beautiful white stallion.
“All right, kiddo. It’s time to get to work. We need to get a fire started and some water for dinner.” He ruffled her hairfrom behind. “There’s a well right up at the top of that hill.” He pointed to the large snow-covered hill behind them.
Good Lord, the thing had to be 100 feet high! Seriously, who put a well that far off the ground? She grumbled to herself and pretended not to hear him.
He easily pulled her to her feet, ignoring her glare.
“I don’t want to climb that thing! I’ll get all wet. What if I fall? The bucket will be heavy.” She went through every excuse she could think of.
“Banbury is exhausted and needs to rest. I need to get this fire going and get our shelter up. Someone needs to get water so we can make our dinner. It’s going to be nightfall soon, and I don’t want to be stuck out here without fire, water, or shelter. So what’s it going to be?”
“You do it,” she said irritably. “I have been on my feet all day on this stupid trip that I did not agree to go on, with lousy company—except you, Banbury.” She stroked the horse and smiled. She turned to her brother with her hands defiantly on her hips. “You can’t make me.”
He sighed and blew the hair off his forehead, a sure sign of his frustration.
“One of these days, Jilly, I’m going to…”
“You’re going to what?” She challenged his gaze firmly.
“Never mind!” He turned and stalked toward the hill, bucket in hand. “Finish getting the fire started, all right?”
“What about Banbury?” she called after her angry brother.
“Let him rest! He’s had a long day, too, and we need him fresh for the next leg of the journey,” he yelled back over his shoulder.
She sat down, not feeling victorious over her little win. Why she kept pushing him, she had no idea. But the more he backed down, the angrier it made her.
She poured her frustration into lighting the fire. Unfortunately, the matches were wet and the kindling wouldn’t light.She hated making the fire. It hurt her fingers and rubbed them raw. She threw everything down in anger.
