She hurt inside. She couldn’t eat, she could hardly sleep; her mother called off all of the suitors’ visits, knowing her daughter’s condition was more than just stubbornness and bad temper. Jocelyn woke up a few mornings later, got dressed in her thick dress and black boots, gathered Charles’ nice things, and walked up the hill.

The grass was dewy and shone with glints of the rising sun. Jocelyn did not kick off her boots, she did not run, she did not jump into the tree. When she got to the top of the hill, she hugged the new clothes tighter to herself and descended toward the place in the trees from which the boy always emerged.

Soon, she heard the sound of animals and a little girl’s voice. She smelled firewood. The little dog barked and ran through the trees to greet her. Jocelyn smiled and kept walking until she saw a cabin with a lean-to attached where firewood was stacked and a mule was tied. The little girl whose voice she heard was standing in the clearing in front of the cabin, staring at Jocelyn with wide brown eyes.

“Mama!” the little girl yelled and ran through the door into the cabin, her fluffy brown hair bouncing at her shoulders. 

“I was just returning Charles’ new things,” Jocelyn said to the woman who came out of the cabin. The little girl peeked around the woman’s dress.

“You should come in,” the woman said with a smile as she turned to go inside. “Charles would like to see you.”

Charles and his father sat in the dim room carving axe-handles. Charles’ mother went to the corner and reached for some hanging dried herbs and sprinkled some into a large bowl. 

“You should stay and enjoy breakfast with us,” the woman said kindly.

“Hi, Jocelyn,” Charles said.

“I have your clothes.” Jocelyn extended her arms toward Charles. He took the clothes without looking at her and quickly dumped them onto a cot in the corner of the room.

The family sat down with Jocelyn for breakfast, the father asking Jocelyn about herself and the mother warmly offering her more food. 

—Good family

Jocelyn whispered it quietly to Charles. She cleared her throat

“You have a good family.”

“Jocelyn, what about your family?” the mother wanted to know.

—Her family was good too

Jocelyn started to cry. “My family is very good.”

“Do they know where you are?”

Jocelyn shook her head.

“Well, they must be worried, then.”

Jocelyn nodded.

Charles extended his hand. “I’ll walk you home.”

They ascended the hill together. As they walked, Jocelyn looked at the big oak tree and imagined herself in it, that girl longing to be out in the open, left to herself, going nowhere, doing nothing. She looked at Charles.

“Now you know what being free is like,” Charles laughed. He held her at the top of the hill.

“Yes,” she said with a soft smile. “But it’s different.” And they both walked down the hill to the great house.

THE END