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Havenwood Fourteen Years Ago

William sat on the boulder that looked like a grizzly bear and surveyed the valley that he once loved, but had grown to despise.

Something had changed over the last few years and Athena either didn’t see it or, more likely, didn’t want to see it.

For more than two decades he had done good work here. They grew their own food. Raised their chickens. Provided for the families that had once made Havenwood great. There had been such joy here when his brother’s family had started Havenwood with him and Athena. It was hard work, and the first two winters had been particularly difficult, but they’d built something they were proud of. Athena, who was so good with people, brought more families in, then added to his own by giving birth to Thalia, his precious daughter, who would be eighteen this summer.

There were many changes. His brother died, then his sister-in-law left with their only child to make a fresh start. They were in Australia now, on a ranch, but he hadn’t heard from her in years. More people came, and some left. He had raised his stepdaughter and his daughter, but they were so very different. Calliope refused to leave...and Thalia had dreams bigger than the valley.

He’d always thought Thalia would go to college—she was such a smart young woman. He and Athena had never gone, and Thalia should have the choice about whether to stay here or leave, spread her wings.

Before the Day of Mourning, Thalia had talked about studying wildlife biology. She had met a forest ranger on one of her hikes—she used to hike for miles, much to Athena’s worry. She thought she might want to be a ranger, to protect the land and animals in the Rocky Mountains. Or just to bring the knowledge home to Havenwood.

But Athena had begun to discourage their daughter, saying she needed her here to help run Havenwood. William knew why—Calliope had quietly taken over. She’d changed everything. Slowly, but William saw it. Athena refused to admit it.

Calliope was her daughter, after all. The daughter she had always felt she’d failed as a child.

“I was not a good mother when Calliope was little,” Athena told him shortly after she found out she was pregnant with Thalia. “My husband—he was a difficult man. Angry at everyone. At me. At the world. When he lost his job, it was everyone’s fault but his. When he couldn’t find work, it was everyone’s fault but his. But he had one saving grace—he loved Calliope. He never hit her. She was his angel, his princess. He wanted to give her the world.”

“He hit you.” William touched her cheek gently.

She kissed his hand. “I should have left. I’ll never forgive myself for not leaving, but I’d convinced myself that it wasn’t often, that when he found work again it would get better, that he didn’t hit our daughter, so it was okay.”

“It is never okay,” William said.

“I know that now. I know that because of you.” She kissed him, put her head on his shoulder. “He wanted more for us than he had growing up, and he made some bad decisions.” She paused. “I wish you were Calliope’s father. She needs your gentle soul to temper her fears.”

“What happened?” She’d never told him more than her husband had been killed. She had never wanted to talk about it.

“My husband went to work for bad people,” Athena said. “He messed up. They killed him right in front of Calliope. If I hadn’t found you, if we hadn’t found Havenwood, I don’t know that she would have survived. She found her peace here. I hope it’s enough.”

“She has you, and she has me. I love her as if she is my own, as much as I love the child growing inside you now.”

At the time, William believed what he said. But now, he didn’t love Calliope. He feared who she had become.

Athena didn’t see it, but he didn’t blame her. Thalia...she saw. But she would never leave her mother. William couldn’t participate anymore.

He was getting old—he was ten years older than Athena—and the winters were hard on him. Arthritis ran through his joints, brutal and painful. He would miss Athena terribly, but this was the best decision for him.

He wished she would come with him.

He’d been planning his departure for more than a year. He’d already taken care of the paperwork for Athena—he would never take Havenwood away from her. But he also would never allow Calliope to have the land. When Athena passed, it would go to Thalia. If anything happened to Thalia, or if she didn’t want it, it would go to Riley. And the paperwork was clear: if Riley wasn’t around or if she didn’t want it, she couldn’t sign it over to anyone. He feared Calliope would manipulate her daughter into giving it to her. Instead, the land would go to a group that ran summer camps for children.

And if there was no group to run it, maintain it, pay the taxes? It would go to the government to be absorbed into the National Forest.

Calliope and her people would never own Havenwood. William couldn’t allow it.

“Dad, what are you doing up there?”

Thalia was looking at him from the base of the rock.

“Come on up.”

She frowned, but scrambled up the back of the boulder where there were footholds that had been made over time. She sat next to him. “You shouldn’t be climbing rocks.”

“It’s the last time.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Her voice cracked and she leaned into him.

“I would ask you to come with me, but I know you won’t leave your mother.”

“Maybe we all should go.”

“Do you want to?”

She didn’t say anything for a long minute. “Sometimes.”

“And your mom?”

“She will never leave. Even when she’s sad, she’s happier here than anywhere else. Last time we went to a fair, she said there were too many people, too much traffic, and you remember when someone stole one of our quilts? She was so upset.”

“The world isn’t perfect.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. But I’ll visit.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m not getting any younger. You have a father who is old enough to be your grandfather.”

“I don’t care.”

“Tucson is dry and will be much better for my arthritis. I’ll meet you at the Tucson Craft Fair next summer.”

“That’s nearly a year from now.”

“And if you want to leave,” he said, “I’ll take you home with me. You can apply to the university there. And you can always come back.”

“People who leave never come back,” Thalia said. “The world corrupts them.”

“There’s a lot of bad in the world, that is true. But there is also good. You’re part of the good, sweetheart. Your mother and you have given me a family when I never thought I would have anyone.”

They sat there in silence for an hour, then Thalia helped him climb down from the rock. They walked slowly back to the village.

Calliope waited at the gate for William.

No one was allowed to leave Havenwood. They just didn’t realize it yet. Some had tried; Calliope had stopped them. Until she could convince her mother that no one should leave, she would have to do it this way.

It was her mother’s fault that William would die.

She heard the old truck rattle up the steep slope several minutes before she saw it. He stopped because she hadn’t opened the gate. He put the truck into Park and rolled down his window.

“Calliope. I didn’t expect you here.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye. I know I wasn’t very supportive of your decision, but I understand.”

“Thank you for that. Can you get the gate for me?”

“Sure.”

Calliope unlocked the gate, but pretended to struggle with the bolt, which often got stuck.

William got out to help. He grunted, but slid it back, then pushed the gate open.

“Goodbye, Calliope.”

She reached out to hug him. He accepted her embrace.

She pulled a butcher knife from the deep pocket of her dress. “No one leaves,” she said as she slid the blade into his gut, all the way to the hilt.

He fell to his knees as the life drained from his eyes. He stared at her in disbelief. It was the same expression her father had all those years ago when he was shot and killed.

She turned, suddenly disturbed by the scene. Confused. Not knowing if she had done the right thing.

But it had to be done. If William left, others would follow.

Anton came out of the trees. “He made me do it,” she said as tears fell down her cheeks.

“No one leaves,” he said softly, repeating her words. “We’ll take care of it. Clean yourself up, I’ll see you at home.”