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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/portfolio/item_id/2099368-The-Little-One
Rated: E · Folder · Contest Entry · #2099368
A bit of 18th century NJ folklore, seen through kinder eyes. And romance, too!
“Sarah? He’s back.”

Wiping hands on her homespun apron, the woman turned from the window to resume work; pies don’t make themselves. Sarah came from the front room in a swirl of skirts and girlish excitement.

“Will that be all today, Mrs. Duncan?” A brown shawl was already around her shoulders. The woman tried to look stern but the sight of hopeful green eyes and cheeks pink from the autumn air brought a smile.

“Off ya go-- but be back early tomorrow.”

Sarah gave a nod and dashed out the kitchen door, into her lover’s embrace.

“Richard!”

The sound of her sweet voice speaking his name made the young man laugh and lift her off her feet. She giggled and pretended to object with a shake of her head.

“Richard, put me down!”

He obliged but took a kiss in forfeit. Slender fingers smoothed away hair as black as pitch to better study that handsome face. I’m in love with the Leeds boy, and don’t care what anyone says! By the light in his eyes she knew the feeling was mutual.

“You’re the loveliest girl in town.”

“Only the town?” she teased.

“The county, then. The world! Oh Sarah, I love you. And when I’m back from University, we’ll be married, like we’ve planned.”

Sarah turned away with a pout to pick a tawny leaf off the nearest branch peevishly.

“Why are you the one to leave? You have a dozen brothers and sisters—”

Sidling up behind her, he wrapped her gently in his arms and whispered against soft golden hair to sooth her.

“Because I’m the oldest. No other Leeds has ever gone to University, and I doubt another will for some time. I want to be the best husband I can and give you a good life. Mr. Thompson even promised me a position when I---”

His words were cut short as she turned in his embrace for another kiss, and held him as if she would perish without him.

“Richard, I love you more than anything.”

His hand caressed her loosened tresses as he cooed reassurance. A moment more and he eased away, picking up a large covered basket that had escaped the girl’s attention. She smiled coyly.

“Are we having a picnic?”

He would have obliged but for duties elsewhere.

“Not now, I’m afraid.” He sighed and looked away. “Family matters. I’ve got to tend the little one, you know that.”

“You’re always tending the little one. You come home to visit and with all your sisters, they put you in charge of an infant!”

“Now, Sarah. They take care of him when I’m gone. His birth took our mother, and they still haven’t forgotten. They don’t even want him in the house.”

“Let me come with you, then.”

It was inevitable that this day would come—but she loved him more than anything, didn’t she? He extended a hand at last, taking hers safely in its grasp to lead her away.

Sarah had never seen the Leeds home, due to her family’s objections. She had heard the stories all her life; how old mother Leeds was a witch, or that the children were not all Mr. Leeds’, or that there was something unnatural about them. They lived among the pines, away from town, like pariahs. It made the locals fearful.

There were bound to be tall tales.

They spoke of future plans as they walked and of their love. It was near dusk when they approached the Leeds property. To Sarah’s surprise they passed the gate, the weathered farmhouse, and kitchen garden to stop in a sandy clearing beyond the barn.

“Richard, you’re teasing! There’s no baby out here.”

He set the basket near the woods’ edge, and moved Sarah back to the center of the clearing. Taking her in his arms once more, he held her fast.

“Don’t be afraid.” he whispered. “But not all the stories are lies.”

Small fervent cries came from the pines and scurrying through bushes drew Sarah’s attention. A dark crouching form—about the size of a man-- appeared, darting behind trees. The eager chattering grew louder as it neared.

Sarah’s eyes widened; a creature with equine features scampered to the basket and devoured the contents of butcher’s scraps. She trembled but remained silent, more intrigued than afraid.

When done, the thing cocked its head and studied them with grateful eyes. It stood quickly and unfurled leathery black wings. With a shrill cry, it leapt into the air, and disappeared over the trees.

Richard thought she had fainted as her hold grew slack and feared her love could not endure the shock. He was greatly relieved when she took his hand and gazed into his eyes with a gentle smile.

“What is his name?”


Word count: 797
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