The Hunt For Revenge (Paperback)

Harper Gale stood in front of her mother’s memorial, head bowed, hands clasped in front of her. A simple wooden plaque carved with Mom’s name and the date she died marked the spot where Mom’s ashes had been spread. It was nothing fancy, but Harper and her father had carved it together and their tears had soaked the wood as they worked. Those tears consecrated the plaque in a way that no priest with his holy water could hope to match. Or so Harper believed.

They’d chosen a little hill within sight of their cabin as Mom’s final resting place and Harper came out every day to pray.

She raised her head and made the sign of the inverted sword. “Branik protect your soul.”

“You know your mother worshipped the goddess Lady of Healing.” Her father’s gentle hand settled on Harper’s shoulder.

“I know, but if Mom’s soul needs protecting, I’d prefer Branik do it. Besides, I follow Branik and I assume he’d be more likely to hear me than the goddess.”

“Maybe so. Hard to believe it’s already been a year.”

“A year and twelve days.” Harper finally turned to look up at her father.

He stood a good head taller than her and had a brawny build appropriate for an ex-soldier. A scruff of beard covered his face and a leather patch concealed the empty socket of his missing eye. She’d never forget him coming home from his last deployment, when that horrible wound was still fresh, the scarring around it red and angry. She’d been a little scared but did her best not to let it show.

Today he wore his green-and-black hunting leathers. That meant a trip into the woods. Ordinarily, Harper would join him and the Parrville Rangers, but today she had to get her beaver pelts ready for the fall fair. The buyers would be here for the annual trade market this weekend and she hoped to get good coin.

“You never come to pray.”

“No.” Dad had a faraway look in his eye. He always got that look when he thought about Mom. “It’s not my way. I honor your mother’s memory in my heart. She lived a good life and her soul has become one with heaven. She’s moved beyond our mortal cares. We serve her memory best by following her example.”

She knew he didn’t mean it as a criticism, but his last sentence stung all the same. Harper’s mother had the patience of a saint. Which was lucky for Harper, who had the patience of a drunk teamster and a vocabulary to match. Her father never tried to change her, Branik bless him. She was already eighteen, so change seemed unlikely at this point.

“Are you going after that bear that’s been raiding the farms near Tom’s Creek?”

Her father nodded. “It’s getting bolder by the day. Best we deal with it before someone ends up dead. I may be back late.”

“I know. Bears are tough. Took me two days to track down and finish off my first one despite putting my first arrow through its lung. Remember Mom’s expression when I brought the pelt home?”

Her father chuckled. “Who could forget? Her sixteen-year-old daughter, who she thought should be chasing boys not bears, comes up the path dragging a pelt that weighed half as much as she did, dried blood on her face, grinning from ear to ear. She was horrified. I couldn’t have been prouder.”

Harper hugged him. “I love you, Dad.”

He hugged her back. “I love you too, sweetheart. Hopefully tonight we can have fresh bear steaks for dinner.”

Harper wiped her eyes and smiled up at him. “Can’t wait, Dad.”