"Oh, heavens, Nicholas, you'll scare the poor girl to death!" an elderly man exclaimed as he peered through the tent flap at Helga. The black-haired man holding the sword quickly returned the weapon to its sheath, and scowled at the old man, who was smiling kindly at Helga.

"Dear me, don't mind Nicholas here," said the man with a dismissive wave of his hand, "He has a flair for dramatic entrances. Can you please come outside, dear, and calm your children down? Their squealing is dreadfully painful for my old ears."

Helga, too stunned to speak, got to her feet slowly and followed the old man outside. Tears flooded her eyes when she saw Carrie, Joseph, Faith and Richard huddled together by their horses. They were safe.

Carrie was the first to notice Helga. With a sob, she flung herself at Helga's legs, hugging them so tightly Helga could hardly maintain her balance. With similar cries, Faith and Joseph launched themselves at Helga. Only Richard kept his distance, but he managed a small smile when Helga glanced at him.

"It's okay, it's okay," she chanted, hugging her siblings, relieved beyond words that they were safe. Then she remembered Nicholas and the old man, and her relief was quickly subdued.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the elderly man, who had been conversing quietly with Nicholas off to the side of their camp.

Neither of the men heard. Instead, Nicholas had thrown his sword down angrily at the old man's feet and stormed off, grumbling incoherently. The elderly man turned back to her, shaking his head and smiling.

"I'm sorry about Nicholas. He's just difficult."

"Why are you here?" Helga repeated. She could feel Carrie's sobs slowing and subsiding into sniffles and occasional hiccups.

At this, the elderly man looked amused. "I think the more pertinent question is, what are you doing here?"

Helga swallowed. "What do you mean? We were just camping here for the night."

"Well, it seems you've chosen to camp on my land," he replied with a smile.

"Oh. Your land." Everything clicked into place. She swallowed again. "I-I'm so sorry. We'll be leaving now, anyways. I'm sorry," she repeated, backing away from the man and lifting Carrie, Joseph and Faith onto the backs of their 2 horses.

"Do you need a place to stay?" he asked, smiling kindly. He knows, Helga thought. He knows we're orphans. He looked trustworthy, she decided. An elderly man with greying hair and sparkling blue eyes and a kindly, wrinkled face.

Perhaps maybe for a night or two. She looked at Carrie and the rest of her siblings, taking in their bedraggled appearance, the depressing hollows beneath their dull eyes. They deserved better than to wander the woods like an emaciated band of wolves.

She turned to the old man slowly, blinking back tears as she realized that she had yet again failed her parents, her siblings; everyone that mattered in their time of need. "Maybe for a little while," she whispered, nodding at the old man.

His face broke out into a smile, and Helga was immediately reminded of her grandfather. That's who he looks like, she thought. They needed a grandfather, she thought as she glanced back at her bedraggled, depressed siblings. We need someone.

"Follow me," he said, beckoning to Helga, "I'll take you home."

"We're going home, Helga," Carrie whispered excitedly, smiling down at Helga from her perch on the horse. It was a smile of utter happiness, a smile like sunshine breaking through clouds. It was the first time in many, many weeks that Carrie had smiled.

Home. Helga smiled tentatively; she liked that.

The forest thinned gradually, huge meadows opening before them, wide expanses of waving green grass as far as they could see.

It took half an hour at most to reach the valley, but the trip was worth it; it was breathtaking view.

All around the valley spanned a thick forest, growing for miles in every direction. At the furthest end of the valley, directly opposite from where Helga stood, the horizon spiked up in a jagged line of slate grey, snow-capped mountains.

The valley itself was lush, a patchwork of pastures, fields of grains and crops, and tall log buildings with a lazy, winding river running the length of it. A rickety house with a slightly smoking chimney was in the middle of the valley, and paths like the spokes of wagon wheels snaked out from the house to join everything together.

It was so much like home that Helga felt homesick. The old man, who had introduced himself as Larry Evans, smiled at Helga. He always seemed to be smiling his sweet old smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners with perpetual laugh lines, like he spent his entire life smiling. And for some reason, Helga could believe it. He was the most cheerful person she had ever met. She couldn't imagine a frown in place of his friendly smile. It seemed almost criminal, wrong.

"Martha is already cooking," he observed, gesturing to the smoking chimney. "We should hurry, before the boys eat everything." This time, he laughed, and Carrie giggled with him.

A sidelong glance at Carrie confirmed Helga's suspicions. This place was already like home to Carrie. Even sweet, reserved Joseph, and shy Faith were warming up to Larry.

The thought put a warmth in Helga's heart.

They had finally found someone to take care of them. They wouldn't suffer with Larry and Martha, not like they did with me, Helga thought.

She didn't know which feeling was more powerful: that she had found someone like a long-lost grandfather to watch over her siblings, or that she had failed in doing so by herself.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of activity. When they reached the house, a plump, kindly old lady immediately showered them with hugs and greetings, and invited them all inside with a motherly air of efficiency.

The inside of the house was homely, furnished with threadbare couches and rickety tables, with a large kitchen. The smell hit her like a wave, the smell of fresh-baked bread and stew and everything she thought she would never smell again after her parents died.

And here were Martha and Larry, like surrogate grandparents, taking them in, giving them a home and willing to trust them, even though they were just a band of bedraggled orphans. All at once, Helga was overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude for Larry and his wife.

"Thank you," she said shakily, as Martha ushered them to the large kitchen table, where an assortment of food was laid out for them.

Martha just smiled, and gave her a one-armed hug. "Oh, it's nothing," she said dismissively, but her eyes twinkled as she smiled. Carrie and Joseph sat on one side of Helga, and Richard and Faith on the other.

Helga hadn't noticed it before, but the table was huge, with 12 chairs fitting around its perimeter. Just how big was the Evans' family? she wondered. She had a terrible feeling of encroaching on an already stretched family.

Larry went outside again, calling an assortment of names, as Martha set the bread and stew on the already laden table and took her seat at one end of the table. The seat opposite hers was obviously Larry's, and that left the 5 chairs directly across from her. Assuming the family only used on half of the table, there were 5 more kids outside. 5, in addition to Helga's 5.

She watched guiltily as exactly 5 more children filed in, all boys, faces smudged and laughing. They took their places silently when they noticed Helga and her siblings at the table. Among them, Helga recognized Nicholas, who seemed about her age, perhaps a little older. He glared at her with eyes like flint, eyes that said, go away, nobody wants you, you're just a burden.

She looked down at her plate, feeling even more guilty than before.

The meal passed in almost utter silence, and when Larry and his boys left, Martha and Helga cleared the table together.

When they were finished, Martha ushered them upstairs and showed them their rooms. They were sparsely furnished, but cozy, like the main floor. Carrie, Joseph and Faith all slept in the same room with Helga, and Richard slept in a separate room down the hall.

They spent the next few days there, and Helga knew the time was drawing near. The time for them to leave.

At first, she was appalled by the idea. How could she leave when this place was already like home to all of them? Larry, Martha and their children had taken them in and treated them like family. She knew Larry and Martha loved Carrie and Joseph and Faith like their own children.

But what of Helga and Richard? They were past the loveable, endearing stage of childhood where Carrie, Joseph and Faith were showered with love by everyone who they met. They were almost adults. Liabilities.

No, Helga decided, they would have to move on soon. It pained her, but deep down she knew it was right. Nicholas had already disliked her from the beginning, but now, every morning he saw her his glares became more and more hostile and angry. He had one message for her: get out.

She knew he was right, and she knew that he knew he was right. His gloating expression was quite demonstrative of that.

When she woke up the next morning and proceeded to wake her siblings, a feeling of dread weighed her heart again for the first time since they'd arrived a week ago.

A week of decent food and shelter had done wonders for the children. Before haggard and emaciated, Carrie and Faith were glowing with youthful health.

But when she carefully woke Joseph, she knew he was sick. His face was pale, with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. She laid he back of her hand across his forehead, like her mother used to do to check Helga's temperature, and recoiled in horror; he was burning up with a raging fever.

With dismay, she noted his dull eyes and his limp body.

"Carrie," she said in a whisper, "Go get Martha, quickly, please." She blinked back tears as she watched the faint rise and fall of Joseph's chest. When Carrie and Faith had disappeared to fetch Martha, she sat down at the edge of the bed, wrapped her arms around his frail little body, and wept.

"It's all my fault," she whispered through her tears. "I'm so sorry."

I'm so evil, making my readers wait an extra week for a ridiculously short chapter update and making Helga's life a living hell (it will get better, eventually. Have no fear.) I am also sorry for the crappy editing on this, because I'm currently posting this at 10:00 pm the night before a huge physics exam. ^^ Anyways, the title song for this chapter is Temporary Home, by Carrie Underwood. Search it up on Youtube. =)