A little girl came through the front gate holdin’ a fishing pole. His dad looked down and smiled, said we can’t leave her behind. Son I know you don’t want her to go but someday you’ll change your mind.
Ververe 29th, 1513 – Outskirts of River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion
Eric stood up as he heard the unfamiliar clatter of horse hooves stopping outside. He was used to hearing them continue on down the street toward Sara-Beth’s by now, but he wasn’t used to hearing the sound of a horse being tied up to his post box. His mouth was a little dry. Johnny might have been a bit more troublesome at home, but Anna-Marie was all spit and spark like her mother without her mother’s natural sense of when to cut it back.
