“Go in!” shouted Lilian at her suitcase. The clasp was only centimeters away from clicking, but the thing just would not cooperate. Lilian huffed and grunted in defeat. Aunt Krishta came around the corner and sighed at the piteous sight.

“My sixteen-year-old niece. Still in need of packing assistance.”

Lilian pursed her lips, looking at her aunt like a wet cat. “Paul is going to be here soon! I haven’t finished packing, my hair is a mess!” she frantically spoke.

Aunt Krishta calmly hushed, fanning her hands slowly up and down as she inched toward Lilian. “It’s alright.” She drew Lilian into her arms. Lilian rested her head in her aunt's bosom. Then Krishta rocked side to side. “Let Auntie fix it.”

Lilian walked over to her chair and sat down, slouching with her head being held between her hands. And Krishta flipped open the case, examining everything.

“You rolled the shirtwaists?”

“Mm, hm.”

“And flattened the socks—”

“Against the side, yes… Ma’am.”

Krishta continued to dig through. “Aha. What’s this?”

“It’s my derby hat.”

Her aunt's eyelids dropped, “When have you ever worn this, Lilian?”

Lilian shrugged and smiled weakly. “Who knows? I just might one day go to a derby event.”

Krishta chuckled, shaking her head. “Why don’t you put this in a separate suitcase with all your hats?” She held up the hat letting it flop on one finger.

“That one is full, too.”

Aunt Krishta dropped her arm and tilted her head. “So help me, Lilian, if you weren’t a lady of your own, I would have thrown out every useless accessory. But since you are so set on keeping it, then you shall wear it on your travel.” She plopped the hat on the bed and snapped the case shut.

“Mistress.” Gracie stepped into the room.

“Yes, Gracie. What is it?”

“Mister Partridge is right outside.”

“Oh!” Lilian rushed to the mirror to fix her hair.

“Yes, thank you, Gracie,” replied her aunt. “Invite him in. Lilian will be down in a minute.”

Gracie nodded then left.

In a few minutes, Lilian was downstairs. Baggage in both arms. Some of it was carried by Gracie. They walked around till they met Paul at the front door who kindly assisted them in taking the baggage to his car. Once everything was in, he returned to Lilian.

“That was quite a lot of stuff. What all did you pack? Surely it isn’t all necessities.”

“Paul. Are you seriously asking a lady what she keeps in her baggage?”

“Well, it’s my car that has to suffer.”

“Stop arguing. I hope that’s not how you’ll behave the whole way to Brord,” stated Aunt Krishta as she entered the foyer.

Neither of them was going to protest that it was hardly an argument.

“Now, you will take care of my niece, correct?”

Paul tipped his hat, “Of course, ma’am.”

Aunt Krishta laid a hand on his shoulder, staring him straight in the eye. “You better. Because as of now she is all I have.”

He looked downward, gulping down some emotion he felt.

“Well, besides Gracie,” Krishta mentioned on a lighter note. She grinned at her maid, then kissed Paul’s cheek. She whispered into his ear, “Do not bring her back to me until you have wifed her good.”

Lilian could see the blush rising to Paul’s cheeks and wondered what her aunt had told him. He glanced at Lilian a few times before going outside to wait for her to finish saying goodbye. Lilian gave her aunt and maid a long hug each, and they bid her elspeed and safe travels.

“You know, I told myself I would not cry,” Aunt Krishta said, holding a handkerchief up to her cheek. “But my eyes betray me.”

Lilian laughed softly as her eyes betrayed her too. What a strong aunt she had who was willing to give her up even now to be El’s.

“Don’t forget to write.”

“I won’t.”

She put on her velvet coat and hat and left her dear home for probably ever.

Paul watched as Lilian slowly made her way to his automotive, still deciding whether or not she was committed. He stared at the purple thing atop her head.

“Is that a derby hat?” He raised a brow.

“Is that a judgment?”

He picked her up and put her in then went around to the other side. As he settled in, rubbing his hands together, Lilian’s gaze remained on the Truit manor. Paul placed his hand on her gloved one.

“They’ll be fine.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“We’ll be fine.”

After two days of driving, it only got colder. As it began to rain, Paul took out a pair of goggles and instructed Lilian to put them on. The road was uneven, opaque, and slippery, and the rain continued to pour in heaps. The roof did no good as a shelter to keep the automobile’s interior from becoming drenched, and the exterior, grimy. The storm got more tempestuous as the lighting came closer. Then suddenly, the roof of the car was blown backward. Lilian's hat followed, along with Paul’s.

“By El! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say nature was working against us.”

Paul once again was right; something was definitely wrong.

“Help me out here, Lilian,” he yelled over the storm.

“What do you want me to do?”

He kept his hand on the wheel and reached down, then slapped a piece of folded paper against Lilian's chest. “Know how to read maps?”

“Yes,” said Lilian, taking the paper from him.

“Tell me where the nearest amenities are.”

“Uhh…” She flapped the sheet, letting it unfold into a large map of small text and lines for roads that was creased into many tiny squares. The map was in no time drenched, but Lilian did her best. “First I need to know where we- Ahh!”

The car jumped over a bigger bump than the previous times, taking the map right out of Lilian's slippery, gloved hands. And a bluster carried it away. Paul firmly took hold of the wheel as they began to hydroplane.

“Paul, I feel—”

“Not now, Lilian!” The last thing he needed was for her to feel something terrible.

“Now what?” Lilian said quietly, knowing Paul didn’t hear. The first voice in her head: Just go back. Just give up. But she looked over at Paul. Watched his firm grip. His serious eyes squinting through the water that seeped down to his lashes. The rain, dripping down his straight nose. He wasn’t going to give up. Today, Lilian wouldn’t either. Today, she wasn’t going to flee from her problems once again. No. She was going to be just as brave.

They continued on, tussling with the wind and rain. Lilian closed her eyes and calmed her spirit.

Lilian!

“Shersul?” Lilian checked on her left and righthand side, but there was no one in sight.

Lilian, Stop! The voice screamed louder.

“Stop the car!”

Paul let go of the wheel, depressed the lever, and looked at Lilian, “What is it?”

Then, a blindingly bright blast of lighting struck only a yard away from them. Both Paul and Lilian pasted to the back of their seats. The sound deafened their ears for a while and a strongly sweet smell was released in the air.

“Tha- That- If…” Paul tried to put his thoughts together. “At the rate we were going, that would have been us,” he said, sounding much soberer. “Lil.” He turned his gaze to Lilian, “How did you know?”

Lilian couldn’t take on his dark eyes. Should she tell him? No, not now. She lowered her head.

Paul’s chest rose and fell as he was still in shock. He put his shaking hands on the lever.

“No, don’t.” Lilian held up a hand at him. Strands of damp hair falling in her face. “Let’s wait until the storm subsides. We still don’t know where we are, and I brought food.” She pointed at the big basket that sat on top of the other luggage in the back seat.

Paul nodded.

Lilian awoke, realizing she fell asleep in Paul’s arms. He wasn’t asleep. He was brushing up on his Chemistry which he held in his right hand. Reading it as if it were a storybook. He was so handsome when he studied. Then gunshots sounded.

“What was that?” Lilian flinched, exposing that she was no longer asleep.

Paul looked at her. “Don’t worry. All is well. Rest. It’s probably just some hunter.”

Paul always had the calmest of demeanors. Nothing ever bothered him. Not Lilian’s damp hair in his arm, not the sound of gunshots, and certainly not what others thought of him. Is he perfect? How does he do it? Paul never tells her that he has any issues, so Lilian never asks. There is a lot he won’t tell her.

He held her gently over his lap and continued reading. They were not typical friends. Countless amount of times they'd share a sensual affection only appropriate for acclaimed lovers. Lilian tried to be proper, but sometimes she would forget. And Paul could be so hard to read. Often she’d fear he had become so comfortable around her that there was no yearning.

Oh, Paul. If you love me, just say it.

They heard the shots again. Lilian sat up and stretched. For no apparent reason, she thought to ask a certain question, “What do you think about… Shersul?”

Paul jerked his head, curious why she would bring him up. “What is there to think? He’s some crazy coot who thinks he’s the Elson.”

His response disappointed her. She decided to step out of the vehicle and move her legs. She then unpinned her hair and rang it out, making sure it did not touch the ground. Mills could be seen far out in the distance. Through the moist grass on the side of the road was a hidden dirt path that sparked a memory of something Shersul told her that day she was walking to their fishing spot and got lost.

She was about eight years old, her mind was filled with various distractions, and she wound up losing her way. Hours later, Shersul came looking for her.

“Lilian! Lilian!”

“Shersul? Shersul!” she called out.

“Lilian.” The tall, mildly appareled man appeared through the bushes and found her crouching in a little circle on the ground. He picked her up.

“What are you doing over here?”

“I tried to meet you at our fishing spot, but I lost my way.”

“Did you follow the path?”

“Yes, I did. But it’s so skinny and hard to see. Must it be that way?”

“It’s that way so only you and I will know where our spot is. Wouldn’t want the wrong people going there, now would we?”

“I suppose.”

“How about this, I’ll walk you there for now, but soon you’ll have to do it on your own. And when you do, focus on the path.”

She didn’t like the idea of having to go alone again. Whenever Shersul was around, she felt safe.

“Paul.”

“What?”

“There’s a path here.”

“So?”

“So, it may lead to people.”

Paul got out to see what Lilian was talking about. “We’re not going down there.”

“Why not?”

“It is most likely private property.”

“Do you want directions or not?”

“Who needs directions?”

“Tsk, I forgot you were a man,” Lilian murmured.

“No, you forgot I was an intellectual. Look, your uncle’s factory is in Brord, right?”

“Right.”

“So, find the factory, find Brord. Simple.” He walked to the automobile. “Come then.”

Lilian followed, holding her hair in her arms. Once she was in, Paul struggled to crank the car. Lilian didn't say a word as he continued to turn, which was a relief to him and his pride. Paul paused for a moment to rest and looked up at Lilian. He gave the crank a few more turns…Nothing.

“Ugh, out of gas,” He grunted.

“You know, there may be a local pharmacy around here,” Lilian hinted, smirking.

He gave her a dead expression that amused her very much.

And off they went, following the narrow trail. Paul dragged along reluctantly. Lilian had to stop multiple times to see if he was still behind her.

They passed by bushes and native trees of limited varieties, some bare, some green. Lilian distinguished the sweet gum trees and oaks. Oddly enough, as they walked, Lilian felt like a weight was being lifted off her shoulders, making her arms lighter. Sunlight beamed through the trees, leaving various spots of light on the ground. The path was a lovely, golden, scenic route. Pretty larks sang around them. It was all going dandy until… the fork in the road.

“Ah, yes. Just had to be,” said Paul. He stared at the ground for a while. They came for some help. And they literally couldn’t leave without it. Paul sniffed and rubbed his chilled nose.

“What do you suggest?”

Lilian looked down the second path. She could not see much. What about the third? She turned around to check. Gasp!

Standing in front of her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen: a small-framed, pale-skinned, fair-haired maiden with a slender nose and big light eyes. Her only color was her plump red lips. But that was not what surprised Lilian. At the end of the young woman’s extended arm was a pistol pointed right at the target who was Lilian.

“Who are you and what’re you doin’ here?”

The woman had a sweet, soft, and shrill voice that hardly matched her stern tone.

“I… I’m. Lilian. Ma’am.” Lilian looked down at the dead hare that hung upside down by its feet in the woman’s other hand. Her spine shivered. Paul stepped up behind her.

“Hello, Miss. I am Paul Partridge. We know we’re trespassing. We’re lost and looking for someone to help us.”

The woman kept her hand firm on the pistol. She squinted in disbelief. Her eyes looked them up and down judgingly.

“Where d’you younguns come from?”

Younguns? Lilian may be close to death, but she was not going to be disrespected.

“It’s Sir and La—”

Paul swiftly covered Lilian’s mouth and chuckled nervously.

“I’m from Hiplum. And Lilian, here, is from Corlu.”

“Mm,” said the woman. “Rich folks.” She lowered her gun.

The woman came out from the trail she was on. She stepped toward Lilian.

“Y- You remind me of someone.”

Lilian looked from side to side, uncomfortably, as the woman stared at her. The woman squinted again. Then her eyes relaxed as she smiled. “Come on. Let’s get y’all inside.” She backed up. “Like hare?” She held up her catch, displaying its bloody side.

“Not freshly killed,” replied Lilian.

The woman chuckled. “You’re funny.” And she started walking back the way she came. Paul and Lilian followed.

They trekked on the gravel. It was a task getting up a hill. They continued a while in silence till the woman called out, “Now don’t be shy. Say something. Tell me about yourselves.”

“What’s your name?” asked Lilian, ignoring the part about telling her about themselves.

“Tessaline,” The woman replied. “You can call me Tess. Everybody calls me Tess. Unless they occasionally decide not to.”

Paul cleared his throat. “So, Tess. Do you pull out arms on everyone you first meet?”

Lilian eyed him, signaling that he asked a rude question.

“Don’t worry about ol’ Bella, here.” She gave the gun that was currently in her belt a good pat. “She’s strictly for hunting purposes. Besides, round here we’re friends ‘fore we enemies.”

“Obviously,” Paul whispered to Lilian.

“So how’d y’all get here in the first place?” asked Tess.

“Our automobile ran out of gas. So we were stranded on the side of the road.”

“Automobile?” Tessaline said with excitement. “Oh, I’d love to see that. So would Jase.”

“Who’s Jase?” asked Lilian.

“Jase and I live together. He won’t be back for a while.”

“Is he your beau?”

“Yes, no. It depends.”

“On what?”

Tess shrugged, “On what we wanna be at the moment. But anyway,” she waved a dismissive hand, “enough about me. Where were you two trying to get to?”

“Brord,” answered Paul. “But it was a task making our way in the storm.”

“Storm? What storm?”

“The turbulent storm we just passed through not too far away from here.” Paul gestured behind him.

Tessaline stopped and looked at the both of them like they were crazy. They returned the expression.

“It’s true,” insisted Lilian. “My hair is drenched because of that storm.”

“Your hair?”

Lilian felt her head, then looked at Paul in surprise. Paul himself was dumbfounded. Lilian’s hair was completely dry and rested at the top of her head, pinned perfectly.

“I- I don’t remember pinning it.”

“You didn’t,” Paul attested.

Tessaline continued to look at them both, confused. “Look, I don’t know about you two, save a storm. But you’re both in luck. This is Brord.”

As they continued walking, a little house was made apparent before them. It was a pretty thing: skinny wooden pillars with lovely fretwork, finials at each gable’s vertex, but a wind vane right in the center, and a red brick foundation.

They approached the house. Tessaline took out her keys and opened the door.