Introduction

There once was a place on this earth where everything was beautiful and good. It was located in a large valley, hidden in the middle of a enormous mountain range the name of which I can not tell you, for this place existed so long ago that no one now knows the location of the mountains, let alone the valley itself. This valley was beautiful and prosperous; there was always plenty to eat, and there were never any wars.

One day, a traveler came to the Valley. This traveler had small but rough hands and muscular arms. The only things this traveler carried were a sack, which most likely contained the traveler’s only possessions, and an elegant but dirty walking stick. This traveler had long, wavy blonde hair, and delicate facial features. Her name was Julia.

When Julia first came to the Valley, no one knew who she was, where she came from, nor where she was going. Few even paid attention to her, and fewer still cared at all. Where she came from and why does not matter now, for this will be revealed later. The point is that Julia came to the Valley and would soon change the life of one man who lived there.

Chapter One

The sky was a bright blue and birds were singing as Eric rode his horse toward the foothills where his ranch was located. He was returning from town, where he had just had an argument with a farmer over the price of a thoroughbred mare. What a wonderful way to ruin my morning, he thought sarcastically to himself.

Eric was a breeder and seller of the best horses in all the mountains. He owned a large ranch at the edge of the foothills next to the river, which ran through the middle of the valley. Not only was Eric a very successful man, but also at twenty-one, with blonde hair and dark eyes, he was often considered the most eligible bachelor in the valley.

As Eric rode past the farms and over the bridge that marked

the halfway point between his ranch and the village, he met a ragged and dirty young woman who was traveling alone. The only

things she had with her were a traveling stick and a small bag thrown over her shoulder.

“Good day to you ma’am.” Eric tipped his hat to her. The sound of his voice not only surprised the young woman, but it surprised himself as well. He could not imagine why anyone would want to associate with someone who was so dirty and ragged in appearance, but supposed he might as well be polite.

“Good day to you sir,” she replied. Despite her appearance, the traveler had a voice like the call of a bird. “Tell me,” she continued as she came closer to Eric’s horse, “How far is it into the next town?”

Eric looked at Julia as if to asses whether or not she was crazy or simply ignorant. “Look at the sign.” He pointed to a small weathered sign posted at the edge of the bridge. ONE MILE, it read. She blushed, realizing the stupidity of her question.

“Thank you.” Julia whispered shyly. Then she turned away from Eric and his horse and was on her way.

He watched her as she strolled across the bridge and continued down the well-worn path. Her body seemed perfectly formed, but her appearance did well to mask whatever beauty she did possess. Her clothes were so old and dirty, making Eric wonder whether or not they would fall to pieces should they be cleaned. It seemed the only thing holding them on to her slim frame was the very filth that needed so desperately to be washed away. Yet, for some reason, Eric found himself staring off after the seemingly unattractive woman. He watched Julia until she was nearly out of sight, wondering what she could be doing in such a place as the Valley. When she was gone from sight, the young man turned his horse around, and continued to his ranch.

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Julia reached the town just as the sun was descending and the clouds were beginning to turn shades of gold and pink. She stopped at the edge of the first building a worn log cabin, and looked around. Before her was a long street lined mostly with clean, tidy buildings. The porches were all swept and the flowerbeds and gardens were weeded. Nearly every house was properly cared for. The outsides were clean and neatly painted, and each store was whitewashed bright as snow. What a town! thought Julia. I wish that I could have been raised here. The people must be so nice, and the streets are so clean! She looked over the road one last time before continuing on her way.

As Julia walked further down the road, she smelled the first

smells of supper cooking in the homes. Smells of stew, bread, and pie wafted on the warm evening air.

She continued down the street, taking note of all the store signs, looking for a good tavern at which she could put up for the night. She passed several places before finally choosing a small, two story building, which was nearly hidden between a blacksmith‘s shop and a large whitewashed shop. It was a slightly run down place with a brown exterior. The sign above the door read “A Good Night’s Sleep Tavern”. The place looked clean however, and would be quiet and basically empty. The smell of a meaty stew heavy with garlic wafted out the open door along with the smell of freshly baked rye bread. The scent spoke of a meal better than any Julia had eaten in months. She made up her mind and walked up the creaky, worn steps onto the porch and into the dining area of the tavern.

The inside was clean and fresh. There were a few tables scattered around, chipped and worn from time and the misuse that comes with the occasional drunken brawl that no tavern is free from. She could see where some had been patched and where others needed it. At the back of the room, there was a small bar with about six or seven stools which seemed in surprisingly good repair. Maybe the keeper had bought these not to long ago to replace others that were too broken to use any longer. It was a possibility. Two swinging doors marked the entrance to the kitchen, and a small stairway on the right hand wall showed the passage to the rooms. There were about seven other travelers scattered around the room, talking or drinking ale out of large pewter mugs as they ate their suppers. No one noticed as Julia walked in, which was a bit of a relief to her as she suddenly considered her appearance.

Julia stood in the doorway for a moment before heading to the bar. She sat on a stool next to an old man with a long white beard. The man took one look at Julia, picked up his food, and headed for an isolated table at the far end of the room. She realized once again how bad she must look and how awful she must smell. The thought made her ashamed and she blushed. Six months of hard travel through the mountains had left her battered, torn, and in serious need of a bath.

Just then, a skinny, dark headed bar tender came out from behind the double doors. He had a serious, young face which was scruffy and in need of a shave. However, his eyes were bright and pleasant. “How much will it cost for dinner, a bath, and a night’s lodging?” Julia inquired of the bartender.

The bartender eyed Julia for a moment as if assessing whether or not she really had enough money to pay for all of it, then replied, “It’ll be five gold coins. Six, if you want to include breakfast tomorrow mornin‘.”

She thought for a moment, then pulled a coin purse from out of her pocket and counted six coins, then dumped them on the counter with a jingle. “That sounds good. I’ll take it.” she said in a tone that was slightly gruffer than she had intended. She supposed the tiredness she felt over her whole body was seeping into her voice.

The bartender looked at Julia’s money as the last coin finally stopped spinning. He almost seemed to be checking for any fleas. He finally picked up the money and went into the back room, returning moments later with a large bowl of chunky beef stew, bread fresh from the oven, and a mug of ale. He set the food and drink in front of Julia, then walked back into the kitchen.

Julia picked up the bread and tore into it ravenously. It was sweet and buttery and nearly dissolved in her mouth. She forced herself to chew slowly, wanting to savor the first warm meal she had had in a while. After swallowing her mouth full of bread, she tasted the stew. It was full to the brim with chunks of seasoned beef, large pieces of potatoes, carrots and green beans. The soup had been seasoned heavily with garlic and pepper, but not so much as to be distasteful.

As Julia ate, she could feel the stares of the other people in the tavern. Once again feeling self-conscious about her appearance, she quickly ate her stew and mopped up the last of the broth with her bread. Then she reached for the cool mug still sitting in front of her, quickly draining its contents, which burned her throat on the way down and left her feeling warm and tingly. Just as she finished, the bartender came back.

“Your bath is waiting upstairs in the washroom. Stall four,” he said in a gruff voice. He tossed Julia a small key. “Your room is number nine.” He tossed her another, slightly larger key. Both were made of a cheap but sturdy metal that was worn and tarnished. She thanked the man, gathered her sack and stick, then headed for the washroom.

When Julia reached the top of the stairs, she searched the hallway, which was lit only by a few lamps located high up near the ceiling. It went off in two directions, with doors lining each side. A small sign in front of Julia read,

ROOMS ONE THROUGH FIVE, TO THE LEFT.

ROOMS SIX THROUGH NINE, TO THE RIGHT.

WASHROOM: TO THE RIGHT.

Julia turned right, and took only a moment to locate the washroom. It was the second door on the left and had a lamp next to it with a small wooden sign that said WASHROOM. She opened the door, and, finding no one inside, quickly entered. There were only four stalls in it, each stall being comprised of walls that reached from the floor to the ceiling. There was a small opening at the top of each to let out the steam and keep the bather from suffocating. Stall number four was the second on the right. She opened the door, entered, then closed and locked it.

The stall was just large enough for the tub and Julia. There was a small white shelf on the far wall, and she set her things on it so they would not get wet. She then undressed and slipped into the water, which was almost too warm for comfort. She relaxed, letting the heat soothe her aching muscles as the water lifted the dirt away. After about a minute or two, she located the soap and began to scrub. Layers of dirt and sweat slowly slipped away as she rubbed the wash cloth over her body vigorously. There were two hoses that ran from tubs located above the washroom. One was of warm water, heated by the fires that kept the tavern going. The other was of cold water. When the two were mixed together, the bather got a tub full of water that would neither cook him to a crisp nor freeze him like an icicle. A small plug at the bottom of her tub allowed the dirty water to drain. When Julia had dirtied the water so that she could not see her hand beneath the surface, she drained her tub and replenished it with more water to finish the job. She must have washed and changed water three times before feeling truly clean. At the same time she wondered if she had used up all the water there was in the tanks above. She hoped no one else wanted to take a bath tonight.

When Julia was finally done, she took a towel from a rack on the left and dried off, then took a clean change of clothes out of her bag. They were the only clean clothes she had with her and she had been saving them for a time just as this. Julia quickly dressed, then, leaving the last of the dirty water for the maids to take care of, set off to find her room.

Julia continued down toward the end of the hall. Within moments of leaving the washroom, she located her room, unlocked

the door, and entered. The room was small but clean. The only things in it were the bed, which was small and narrow, a simple shelf with a mirror over it. But to Julia it was like sleeping in the guest room of a castle. This is better than I’ve had in ages, she thought to herself and she remembered all the nights out in the cold and the wet of the wild mountains. She had intended to go out and survey the town, but a full belly and months of travel were beginning to take their toll. Realizing suddenly how exhausted she was, she took off her still clean clothes, folded them neatly, and laid them on the shelf. She collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep quickly, not to wake up at all until morning. That night, the dreams did not plague her slumber.

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The next morning, Julia woke up more refreshed and rested than she had felt in ages. She dressed and brushed out her hair, which felt smooth, shiny, and silky from the previous night’s bath. Then she gathered up her belongings as sunlight and birdsong began to stream in through her window with full brilliance. She went downstairs and sat down at the bar. No one was in the room. Julia guessed that everyone had already gone on their way. Most people who traveled preferred to be up early and She guessed that it was nearly eight o‘clock. Yes, the travelers of the previous night were well on their way. The bartender came in from the kitchen, whistling a merry tune. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“I came down for breakfast,” came Julia’s reply. The bartender took a hard second look, at first because he did not know who this beautiful stranger was. Then he took another, even longer look, not wanting to believe that this beautiful, clean woman in a dark green tunic, brown pants, and tall traveling boots was the same person as the woman who had come in the night before, ragged, dirty, and tired. Her hair was no longer matted. In fact he could actually tell what color it was, whereas the night before he had taken several guesses as to what color it might be under all the grime. Not only that, but her clothes were clean and fresh. How could this possibly be the same person? “Uh, yes ma’am,” the bartender stammered after relizing who she really was. Then he went in to the kitchen to fetch her breakfast. When he returned, he set a plate down in front of her, loaded with two very large eggs, three strips of bacon, and two slices of toast.

Julia ate until she was full. Then the bartender asked, “What are ya’ doing traveling alone? It’s dangerous out there!”

Julia was very blunt. “I left my home to start a new life, away from everything I knew. I had to start totally fresh.” She did not feel like indulging this man with her background, and so, kept her true reasons secret and her answer short. Content with her reply, the keeper left the issue alone. She sighed, recalling many harsh memories of why she left, memories

she was still trying hard to forget.

Julia thought for a moment, wondering if she should stop here, or continue on her way. After a moment of deliberation, she decided to stay. Her purse needed to be replenished, and if she decided to move on, she could do so whenever she wished. “Do you know of anyone who needs a hired hand?” She inquired of the inn keeper. “I am especially good with horses, but at this point I will take any job I can get.”

The man thought for a moment, then replied, “You might try Mr. Eric Norman’s ranch. He is a breeder and trainer of good working horses. Most days he could really use another hand. I’m sure he would hire you if you really know what you are doin‘.” Julia almost scowled at him. Who was he to wonder whether or not she was capable of doing what she said she could do. However, it sounded interesting. Julia decided to go talk to this man and see what kind of employer he was. She did not want the sort of trouble she had just left behind her, and if this man did not seem trustworthy, she would not even give him a chance.

“Were can I find him?” She inquired.

“About two miles south, back down the road toward the mountians. His ranch is on the edge of the foothills, just a little way off of the road. You can‘t miss it, there is not another house out there for miles.” Julia remembered seeing the ranch as she came out of the mountains. It had seemed nice enough.

“Thank you,” she told the bartender. She gathered her stick and sack and laid her keys on the counter as the bartender took care of the dirty dishes, and was soon on her way.

__________

It did not take long to walk to Eric’s ranch. She found it easily, for it was out in the open and exactly where she recalled seeing it. It consisted of a small house to the right of a very large barn. The house was a one-level building with cream colored walls and a green trimmed roof and door. The porch was green as well, and there were many windows all around to let in the sunlight. To the left of the house and the right of the brown barn, was a fenced-in, rather large arena used to work the horses. On the left of the barn was a large, grassy pasture full of spring flowers, and quite a few horses.

As Julia looked around, she noticed a man was in the arena. It was the same man she had met on the road before, though she did not recognize him at first. He had a young horse on the end of a lead rope and was exercising it by running it around and around the arena. He stood in the middle of the ring holding the other end of the rope to keep the animal running the way he wanted. She approached the fence and set her things down, watching the beautiful animal run, it’s muscles rippling with each stride. The colt’s mane and tail flew behind it and it’s coat shone with sweat in the early morning sun. The horse was wearing a very worn and dusty saddle and Julia wondered why the man did not ride it. It looked strong enough and old enough to be ridden, so why was this man running it on a rope with a saddle on? She decided that he was training it to be ridden. Maybe it was still too wild. But then, didn’t he breed horses? She didn’t recall the bartender saying anything of wild ones. If it had been bred, it was too old to just now be saddle broken, and if it was, running it with a saddle on was a ludicrous way to be exercising it.

The blonde man in the middle of the arena did not even notice that Julia was standing there, he was so intent on his work. When he stopped the horse to change directions and run it the other way, Julia cleared her throat to make her presence known.

“Can I help you?” asked the man when he realized that someone was standing there. He, like the bartender, did not recognize her from the previous day‘s encounter.

“Yes,” replied Julia. “I’m looking for Eric Norman. Do you know were I might be able to find him?” The young man eyed her for a moment.

“What do you want him for?” She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not she would really get a job and if she should still pursue this. It was not too late to leave and make good time getting out of the Valley.

“Well, I need a job. I was told that he could use my talents and that he might hire me.” She hoped that she was doing the right thing. Just then she recognized this man from the day before. He gave her a cocky smile.

“Just what makes you think that Mr. Norman will give you a job or that he even needs any help? Besides, what do you know about horses?” She prepared herself to sum up the questions with one answer.

“I happen to be very good with horses.” Julia smiled a sweet smile as if to add, ‘Besides, how can you tell someone as cute as me “no?”’ The smile didn’t work.

“Really?” came the sarcastic reply.

“Yes, really.” She jumped the fence without an invitation. “I can probably even tell you what you are doing wrong now. For starters, you should be riding that horse, not just loping him. He is old enough to be ridden and if you don’t ride him soon enough, he won’t be able to be ridden at all.”

“I know that!” exclaimed the man with an air that said ‘Who are you to tell me how to do my job?’. “He won’t let me on him. I’ve been trying for weeks. I figure I’ll let him warm up to the saddle for a bit longer, then try again in a day or two. If I still can’t get on him, I’ll have to put him down. He’s too aggressive.” He wondered to himself for a moment about why it was, exactly, that he felt the need to defend himself against this woman’s accusations.
Julia thought for a moment. She walked up to the horse slowly, checking his supposed “aggressiveness.” He watched her approach and she looked into his eyes. They almost pleaded with her to help him fix the unknown problem as sweat dripped off of his shiny coat and he panted in short gasps. The deep brown almost screamed a message of gentleness. She checked him over, looking at his legs, his hooves, and his head. Why was he panting so hard? Julia was sure he had not been worked hard enough to make him this tired and out of breath. She then looked into his eyes once more. Yes, they were definitely soft and gentle, not hard or mistrusting as his owner seemed to portray him. After checking the cinches on his saddle, she knew what was the problem, for she had seen this mistake often.

“What are you doing?” asked the blonde.

“Going to show you what you are doing wrong.”

The man eyed her, thinking to himself What do I care if you make an idiot out of yourself. I know what I’m doing, so go ahead and “prove” that you are so good. Julia walked up to him and took the lead rope. She then disconnected the rope from the halter on the horse’s head. Checking the horse over one last time, she put her foot in the stirrup and began to mount him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man warned. Julia paid no attention; she was testing her theory. Speaking softly to the horse, she slowly eased herself into the saddle. No sooner did she get seated in it, than the horse began to buck and

rear. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground. The smell of damp dirt filled her nostrils and the laughter of the man filled her ears. “I told you he doesn’t like to be ridden!” The man howled with laughter. She picked herself up and dusted off her pants, then walked back over to the horse.

Julia walked around the animal twice. Its breath came in short gasps and he was sweating heavily. She stopped on the left side of the horse, with the blonde man watching the whole time. She un-cinched the saddle quite a bit, but not so much as to allow it to slip off under the horse’s belly. Then she slipped her hand between the horse and the strap, testing it’s tightness. “Hey! What do you think you are doing?” exclaimed the man. Julia just ignored him. She merely put her foot in the stirrup and, once again, mounted the horse, talking in soothing tones the whole time. The horse looked as if he would buck her off again, but slowly, he eased up as Julia talked quietly to him. Slowly, she eased him into a walk, guiding him around the arena twice before stopping him in front of the blonde man and dismounting.

For a moment the man did not speak. “You had the saddle cinched too tight.” Julia told him. “ I know that many young colts tend to puff out their bellies to keep you from cinching them in, but your horse doesn’t seem to have discovered this trick yet, and if he has, has decided not to make a habit out of doing it. He couldn’t breathe well and sitting on his back only made it worse, so naturally, he wanted you off so he could breathe better.” The man stood dumbfounded for a moment longer.

“But I’ve been doing this most of my life! I know how tight to cinch a horse.”

“Some horses are sensitive, especially some younger horses who are not as used to extra weight and need to breathe better. The tighter you cinched to keep the saddle on, the more feisty he got. It was a vicious circle you could not break.” The man was flabbergasted.

“Lady,” he said. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Eric Norman and you have got yourself a job!”

Chapter Two