Chapter Two

"Guinevere! Swimming?" Gwen's mother, Sara, raised her hands in mock surrender. "What am I going to do with you? You're nearly eighteen years old and you've ruined more clothes now than when you were younger!" Sara grabbed a handful of Gwen's muddy and slightly torn skirt.

"Mom, I was just swimming with Dom. I didn't do anything wrong," she retorted.

Sara waved a finger at her. "You may not have done anything wrong, but you most certainly didn't do anything befitting to your age."

Gwen sighed. This was an argument she wasn't mean to win. She placed the package of nails on the corner table and began to head to her room.

"Don't you walk away from me, Guinevere," her mother snapped. "I'm not finished yet."

Clenching her teeth, Gwen fisted her hands at her side and turned back to her mother. She glared at Sara, just barely refraining from talking back.

Sara must have sense Gwen's inner struggle, for she narrowed her eyes and waved a dishtowel at her. "Don't give me that attitude, Gwen." Sara sighed. Shaking her head, she took a seat in a chair. "If you were married right now, this wouldn't have happened," she muttered mournfully.

Gwen swallowed, only just holding onto her control. "Don't start that again." When her mother gave her an imploring nonplussed glance, she shed her control and raised her voice. "Look at Delia and Kelsey. Both are older than me and neither are married." Understanding flooded Sara's gaze. She opened her mouth to say something, but Gwen plowed ahead.

"Do you know how hypocritical you sound when you talk about me getting married? Two of my sisters are as of yet unmarried yet you insist that I take vows they haven't!" Gwen took a breath, fighting tears. She hated having this argument. Again Her temper cooled and she thought back over the conversation. She flushed at her outburst. "Besides," she said softly, striving for a lighter note, "none of the local young men are too immature. All they think about is..." She glanced at her mother who gave her a knowing glance. Gwen blushed. "I'm not interested in anything like that. Not yet."

Sara's gaze softened. She put a hand on Gwen's arm, pulling into a chair beside her. "What about Dom?" Seeing Gwen's exasperated glance, she continued. "I mean, hey, you have fun with him, you talk about him or to him quite a lot. You two are around each other nearly every day, for Pete's sake."

Gwen shook her head. "Don't drag Dom into this, Mom. He's my best friend. That's it."

Sara smiled at her daughter's blush, wondering what thoughts were causing it. "Alright, sweet. We'll leave this be for now." She stood, smoothing her apron. "I bake fresh cakes."

"You know you're not going to win me over with food, right?"

Sara laughed. "I know." She gave her daughter a wink. "We've already tried that." She uncovered a large plate and handed Gwen a large piece of chocolate cake."

Gwen took it grudgingly and nibbles contentedly on the soft chocolate. She sat still for a moment before deciding to broach the subject once again, from a different angle. "Mom, why do you want me to get married so quickly?"

Sara sighed and sat down again, leaving a large black pot holding supper to simmer over the fire. "You, Gwen, are the youngest of seven. Five of you are still living at home. Jason turns twenty-six in a few weeks. Delia and Kelsey are getting older, not saying they're old, as well. Neal isn't that far behind." At the confused look on Gwen's face, Sara waved her hand, brushing away far away thoughts.

"What I'm trying to say is that your father and I are getting along in years and we can't support all you forever." Gwen frowned. "Oh, don't think, dear, that we're trying to kick you out. Your father and I love each and every one of you so very much." She smoothed a hand over Gwen's long reddish blonde hair. "Try to understand."

Gwen glanced down at her half-eaten cake. "Of course I understand, Mom," she assured her mother. Although, she wasn't sure that she did understand. Not fully.

Sara gave her arm a squeeze. "There now. Go down to the barn. Your father is waiting for those nails."

Gwen found her father bent over a long large table in the middle of his work end of the bar. Pieces of metal and wood and various tools littered the worktable, littered around him with organized chaos. A large leather apron wrapped around his waist and soot from the pot-bellied stove in the corner stained his breeches, cotton shirt, and any uncovered skin.

"Afternoon, Dad," she called cheerfully.

Henry glanced up from his work. "Good afternoon. "What are you doing down here?"

Gwen heard the unspoken statement: she never entered the work area of the barn unless she was forced to. She grinned and held out the package. "I came to bring you your nails." Henry gladly took them as Gwen glanced around. "Do you need some help?" she asked after a moment.

"What do you think, Gwen?" Henry put down his tools, and slid out of his apron. The outline of soot on his breeches was quite comical.

Gwen glanced at the table. A large rubber roller was attached to a flat metal box. Small ditches near the top ran the length of the box allowed the roller to move back and forth with ease. Little square blocks of wood were littered across the table. Gwen picked up a few and found, backward, beautiful, and intricately carved letters. A carton of black ink and a stack of stiff paper sat neatly nearby.

"What is it, Dad?"

Henry scratched his head. "I'm not sure what to call it, yet. But it's for making up posters and documents of the kingly and noble sort and such. So thinks don't got to be hand written anymore."

Gwen couldn't imagine such a thing. "Can you show me?"

"Sure, sweet." He rounded the corner of the table, grabbing the letters and a couple sheets of paper. "Hold on one second while I get this thing set up."

Gwen gladly moved out of his way.

Henry paused. He turned to her. "What should it say?"

Gwen smiled and shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Surprise me."

Henry nodded. "Okay, then. One surprise document, coming right up."

Carefully Henry placed the letters gently in place on the metal tray. Taking a thick paintbrush, he dipped it in the black ink and quickly painted letter after letter. Making sure the letters were secured tightly, he places a sheet of paper between the blocks of wood and the rubber roller. Pulling the roller down, he pushed it back and forth, applying pressure. After a few strokes, he let up. Peeling the paper away from the blocks, he blew on it lightly. Holding it out to Gwen, she took the finished product and grinned.

"Daddy, this is really amazing!" The letters were clear and concise, revealing her full name in beautiful writing. She laughed delightedly. "You're sure to win at the fair!"

Henry blushed at his daughter's praise.

The next night, the first day of the second season of the Beltane, Henry and Sara invited their neighbors over to celebrate Henry's completion of what he called, 'the printer.' With them came Dom and his family, including his two younger sisters. Lilly and Faye corned Gwen quickly in the kitchen, bursting with some kind of gossip or another. Throughout the night, Gwen would catch Dom watching her. She'd grin and roll her eyes. He would smile back and drag his gaze from hers. She couldn't get her conversation with Kiersten out of her head.

Throughout the night, she tried, in vain, to separate herself from Lilly and Faye, but the younger girls were like leeches. Gwen couldn't bring herself to refuse them. The night was filled with dancing and laughter and a lot of food. When the group gathered around a large bonfire, Gwen actually found herself beginning to have a good time. Until Faye suggested that all the young people perform 'the jump.'

Gwen blanched when she heard this. She'd avoided the ritual for years. Twice a year, mid-spring and mid-autumn, a young man would seize the girl he loves by the hand and together they would make the jump over low burning coals. If they landed on the other side, still holding hands, their life would be one of prosperity and many healthy children. If their grasp broke, their relationship wasn't meant to be.

It was a simply silly superstition, one that Gwen didn't share. But…still…one could never be sure. She didn't want to risk it.

"Oh," Sara clapped her hands. "That sounds like a lovely idea." She glanced sideways at her husband. "You know, Henry and I made the jump long ago." She linked her hands through his arm. "As you can see, it worked."

The group of three families laughed. Gwen glanced around; she was amazed that so many families could get together and sit down at one time. Dom, of course, and his entire family were there. Jacie and her husband with their small son sat to the right of Gwen's parents. Rose and Eric sat on the other side, gazing into each other's eyes. Gwen didn't know if either of her sisters had jumped the coals. She turned her gaze away. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

The local blacksmith, longtime friends with Henry, and his family occupied the space opposite the fire. Gwen didn't know him all that well. Also in attendance were a few young men from town, swains bent on gaining Delia and Kelsey's attention.

Gwen caught Dom's gaze. The low burning flame turned his skin a most appealing bronze and his dark eyes glittered with an emotion Gwen didn't want to think about.

Yes, she thought, it was better just to ignore it. But she found she couldn't. Her gaze remained locked with Dom's until he came to stand before her. He held out a hand. "Will you jump with me, Gwen?"

Her heart plummeted. Kiersten was right! Dom did have feeling for her. Gwen bit her lip. How could they remain friends if one wanted something the other couldn't give?

Gwen started to shake her head, but found that her hand was already clasped in Dom's and he was already leading her to join the other young couples. She tugged on Dom's hand. "Dom, I don't know," she whispered frantically.

Dom gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry about it, Gwen. It's just a silly ritual." The carefree tone of his voice set Gwen at ease. So, Dom didn't put much store in such rituals either. Gwen sighed with relief. It was their turn by the time that Dom hadn't let go of her hand yet.

There was still time to stop this. "Dom!"

Dom turned to her, with a grin. "Come on, Gwen. It'll be fun. I haven't hung out with you all night and now that we get a chance to doing something interesting, you're going to bail on me?"

Gwen couldn't stop the smile that spread from the corners of her mouth. She took a deep breath. "Alright. Here we go." Dom winked at her and they both turned their attention to the flame. Dom squeezed her hand and they ran. Suddenly they were in the air and the ground came rushing up toward them.

Gwen stumbled, but Dom never let go of her hand and pulled her against him, steadying her. He held her hand between them, triumph glittering in his eyes. He turned to the crowd and held their clasped hands high.