Natasha's Dream

by Heather Greenis

  “You must listen to Hope. I am certain she has ticklish feet,” Natasha informed her in-laws. Hope giggled when the water touched her toes. “She does that every time.”

  “Pa,” Hope mumbled.

  Stewart stopped and squatted.

  “Hope?”

  She giggled.

  “That was not the familiar babble,” Eliza announced, delighted. “Hope attempted to say her poppa’s name.”

  Natasha and Vicki spent the remainder of the day encouraging Hope to say ‘momma.’ She simply giggled.

  Dear Diary,

  Hope spoke. Stewart and his family were thrilled….

  * * *

  Shortly after Hope’s second birthday, Stewart’s parents brought a large box containing his university books to the cottage. He set it in the corner of their bedroom. Once his parents left for the evening, and Hope was settled, Stewart entered the parlour with one of his books. Natasha was thrilled to see his renewed interest in his studies. Although they had not spoken on the topic, it was painfully obvious Stewart found their financial situation distressing. He wished to return to school and finish his education. She retrieved her novel from the bedroom and joined him on the sofa.

  Dear Diary,

  It pleases me to see Stewart with his university books. I am praying for the day he is able to fulfil his dream and become an engineer and architect….

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Marcus and Joshua continued to keep a conscientious ear for the location of their father’s search. The guards were focused on the far side of the city. Each building was thoroughly searched for an indication it was a home to the missing princess.

  Weeks after Hope’s third birthday, Stewart’s parents rode off, leaving Vicki and Goldie for their weekend visit at the cottage. An hour later, Goldie began barking. Her tail wagged exuberantly as she ran to the door. Willard’s buggy pulled up the driveway. Grinning, Stewart walked out to greet them, leaving Natasha standing at the doorway.

  “What was forgotten?” he teased.

  His poppa’s expression was sombre. His momma looked terrified.

  “There are a few men and a carriage down the road,” his poppa informed him. “It looks … official.”

  “You fear…?”

  “It is the search team.”

  “The last time Marcus and Joshua spoke, the search was focused at the far end of the city. A heavy concentration on the upscale homes and apartments.”

  “Yes, I recall that conversation. Have you spoken to Natasha about the search?”

  “Not recently, no. I’ve allowed her to relax and enjoy life without the worry constantly hanging over her. It is time to speak of this with her.”

  “Indeed. We have time to react to the threat.”

  Stewart returned indoors. “Poppa and Momma saw an official-looking carriage on the road.”

  “Have my brothers spoken to you? The search has not been mentioned to me in … I do not recall the last time.”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  * * *

  Stewart had been keeping information from her. This was distressing, but the least of her concerns at the moment. Her life was in danger as was the safety of her daughter, husband and his family. Her heart pounded. Her stomach flipped. “I’ve never been as terrified,” she cried, placing her hand over her heart. “I’ll be eternally grateful your parents are perceptive. If the guards find us, Hope and I will be taken to the castle. We’ll never see you or your family again. Our lives will never be the same again.”

  “We must leave the cottage, immediately,” Stewart informed her.

  “I’m frightened. If I’m discovered—”

  “That will not happen,” he growled. “I shall protect my family.”

  He pulled her into his protective embrace.

  “Stewart. Time is of the essence. Pack necessities, as well as anything that indicates you were ever here,” Willard ordered.

  “Most of our personal items are in a central location,” Stewart informed him.

  Natasha pulled away from his grip. In a frenzy of activity, Eliza and Vicki grabbed items from the parlour. They were thrust into any container they could lay their hands on. Stewart attacked the bedroom. Natasha rushed into the nursery.

  “Natasha,” Willard called.

  “Yes?”

  She walked out of the nursery clutching a basket and stood by his parents.

  “It is imperative that Stewart is not recognized. Is it possible the guards know what he looks like?” Willard questioned.

  “I do not believe so,” she replied. Her voice quivered with nervousness, but her answer was confident.

  “I informed Mother we met in university, but did not describe Stewart or your family. With my dying breath I trust Nanny, Marcus, and Joshua.”

  “As do I,” Stewart affirmed, appearing by her side.

  “My parents are not aware of Hope’s existence. They were not informed of my pregnancy.”

  “That is pleasing indeed. It would be difficult to hide a three-year-old child. If Hope wakes during the journey, it would be impossible to keep her quiet without frightening her.” Willard paused a moment to think. Having faith in her father-in-law, Natasha did not attempt to interrupt him.

  “The men are searching for Princess Natasha. They have been instructed to locate a young couple, in particular, a brown-eyed brunette. The guards will instead encounter a travelling couple, but not the couple they are seeking. Stewart, you will take the buggy with Vicki, your momma, and Hope.”

  “No,” Stewart objected. “I must remain with Natasha.”

  “Absolutely not,” Willard stated firmly. “Both Natasha and the child will be lost to you forever. I will not allow that to happen. That family is not getting my granddaughter.”

  Stewart collapsed onto the sofa, lowered his head, and covered his eyes with his hands. Natasha’s chest tightened. She struggled to breathe.

  “You must convince them Vicki is your wife. Your momma is your mother-in-law,” Willard continued.

  “Why is she not my momma?”

  “A mother and daughter possess a special bond. I pray you are not seen while travelling, but heaven forbid, if you are, your momma will be there to assist her daughter with her young child. In my heart, I feel this ploy is necessary. With Hope bundled for travelling, and sleeping, I pray the men will not see her resemblance to Natasha. You must remember, they are not expecting a young child. Natasha and I will follow shortly after you leave.”

  “What of the dog? You haven’t mentioned Goldie.”

  “Goldie shall travel with Natasha and me.” He reached for Natasha’s hand. “If necessary, I expect Goldie will transform into a true guard dog. We shall persevere, Natasha, but you will not be travelling in the comfort to which you are accustomed.”

  She managed a weak smile.

  “I’m terrified for your family,” she whispered to Stewart. “Your poppa is risking his life.”

  “As am I,” he admitted. He put his arms around her. “I have no desire to be separated from you, but I fear Poppa is thinking logically, while my heart is not. Trust him.”

  “It’s not my life that concerns me, Stewart, but your family’s.”

  “Our family,” he corrected her.

  “Stewart, Natasha…,” Eliza whispered.

  Natasha looked at Eliza. They were wasting valuable time. “Yes. I know.” She rushed back into the nursery to prepare her daughter for the journey to the Donovan homestead. Willard went outside.

  She shrouded Hope in a thick blanket with a flap that could quickly be pulled down to cover her face.

  “I love you, Hope,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She kissed her small forehead. “Deep in your heart, you must remember that. You and your poppa will remain in my heart for all eternity.”

  “Natasha, I’ll carry her,” Stewart informed her.

  Stewart lifted their drowsy daughter from her arms and carried her outside. Vicki was already in the rear seat of the buggy faci
ng the horses. One of Natasha’s larger bonnets concealed her face.

  “You must remember, speak only if spoken to. Do not look at them,” Willard reminded her. “Keep your attention on that baby. Do not give them a reason to suspect anything is amiss. Your momma will be by your side every moment. I love you, Vicki.”

  Stewart placed Hope in his sister’s arms and then embraced Willard.

  “I’m proud to call you my son.”

  “I will see both you and Natasha this evening.”

  Stewart turned and gave Natasha a quick hug.

  “You must remain strong. Have faith,” he whispered. “It will be a long night.”

  “Promise you will inform our angel of the love in my heart for both her and her poppa if things should not go as we planned.”

  “I love you,” Stewart said. “I shall be waiting for you with an anxious heart.”

  “Stewart, it pains me to rush you, but we must get on the road before they are finished searching the neighbouring homestead.”

  “Your poppa is right. Go—hurry, my love!”

  Stewart gave her a gentle kiss, and then climbed onto the buggy.

  “You are heading home with your wife, mother-in-law, and child,” Willard stated, reinforcing the story. He touched his wife’s arm and spoke to her alone. “I love you all.”

  “And I you,” Eliza responded.

  Stewart made a clicking sound, and the horses moved off. Natasha watched until they vanished into the dark night.

  * * *

  They travelled a less populated road than normal. Turning a sharp curve, a uniformed man stood by a horse and carriage. Looking toward the nearby home, two guards entered the residence. No. Not on this road as well. If only I could warn Poppa and Natasha.

  “There is a search party,” he whispered, turning his head to inform his momma and sister.

  “Watch Hope as she sleeps, Vicki,” his momma instructed his sister. “I will inform you when it is safe to raise your head. Gently sway your body. It’s imperative we keep the child sleeping.”

  The guard stepped onto the middle of the road, ordering Stewart to stop. Stewart did as requested. He turned to look at his sister. Vicki was swaying from side to side with her eyes fixed on Hope. Her young jaw twitched, showing her nerves. Vicki had every right to be terrified. Both Stewart and Vicki possessed the Donovan eyes. Momma put an arm around her. The guard lifted the lantern and looked over the occupants of the buggy.

  “We are on official business for the king. What is your destination?” he asked. “It is late to be travelling with a young child.”

  Stewart’s heart pounded, choking him. Dear Lord. Give me the strength and courage to speak convincingly. “We are travelling to our home.”

  “Who travels with you?”

  “My wife, daughter, and mother-in-law.”

  “Remove yourself from the buggy,” the guard ordered.

  Stewart glanced at his sister and momma before stepping down. The guard stared at his sister. Stewart’s heart pounded. His body trembled. In an attempt to steady himself, Stewart stepped toward the horse and reached for the bridle. “Your wife?” the guard queried. “She is not looking my way.”

  Think, Stewart. “She is with child again. She is not feeling well,” he responded. “Her momma is travelling with us.”

  “Have her uncover her head.”

  The guard stepped closer to the buggy and stared at Vicki’s huddled figure. Vicki raised one hand to loosen the bow below her chin.

  “Assist her from the buggy,” he ordered.

  Stewart’s heart skipped a beat. He prayed she wouldn’t panic. His momma stood.

  “Just the younger woman. Take the child from her,” the guard ordered Eliza.

  His momma took Hope from Vicki’s arms. Words were passed between the two women, but nothing Stewart could hear. Stewart left the horse’s head and moved to the rear of the buggy. He extended his hand to his sister. Hope whimpered. Vicki leaned toward him, keeping her head lowered. The large bonnet continued to cover most of her face. Her eyes were concealed. His free hand gripped the buggy for support as he helped her alight. The guard examined Vicki, his cold, penetrating eyes seeming to miss nothing. Stewart fought to breathe and to keep an innocent expression on his face. Intimidated by the guard, he fought his insecurities. Dear God, what will I do if they don’t believe us? He tightened the grip on his sister’s hand.

  “Ma’am. Whom are you travelling with?”

  “My husband, momma, and daughter.”

  Stewart breathed a little easier. She sounded confident, though suitably uncomfortable at having a tall, gruff guard glaring at her.

  “Your wife is yet to look at me. Ask her to remove her bonnet,” the guard ordered, keeping his eyes focused on Vicki.

  “She is shy among strangers,” Stewart informed him, hoping to justify his sister’s mannerism. He brought Vicki’s hand to his face and kissed it. “That is not a crime.”

  “Remove the bonnet,” the guard demanded.

  He released his grip. Vicki’s hand trembled as she loosened the ribbon from beneath her chin.

  “Momma?” Hope cried from the buggy.

  Stewart cringed. Hope would be expecting to hear Natasha’s soothing voice. Ignoring Hope, Vicki continued to remove her bonnet.

  “Poppa?” Hope cried, louder.

  Stewart looked up at his momma. Hope squirmed in her arms.

  “Poppa is here,” he responded. “Go back to sleep, little one.” Hope turned her head in the direction of his voice. Her shiny blonde curls escaped from beneath her small bonnet.

  The guard’s attention turned from Vicki to Hope and back again. Stewart reached over under the cover of darkness and gave his sister’s hand a slight squeeze of encouragement. The guard placed his hand on top of Vicki’s head. His sister trembled and stepped back. Stewart glared at the guard.

  “You will remove your hand from my wife, sir,” Stewart ordered boldly.

  Hope’s whimper turned to a cry. The guard pulled his hand back. The second guard approached. They were wasting precious time. Who knew how long Hope would remain patient? They needed to get moving, and soon, before the whole charade fell apart. Hope’s cries intensified. Tired, she wanted the comforts of her bed.

  “I beg of you, let us move on. It was our plan to return home in haste owing to the late hour. I fear the child will become chilled in this night air. Given my wife’s delicate condition, she requires rest.”

  The guard took one last look at Vicki.

  “You may depart,” the guard informed him.

  The guards stepped back. Stewart assisted Vicki into the buggy. He waited until she took Hope from their momma before climbing onto the driver’s seat and picking up the lines. The buggy began to move. Hope’s cries dwindled to whimpers. Once Stewart was certain they were out of the guard’s sight, he stopped the horses, took Hope from his sister, and kissed her small forehead.

  “Shh, sweetheart,” he soothed. “Shh.”

  It took a few minutes, but once Hope settled, he placed her in his momma’s arms.

  “Take a deep breath, Vicki. I’m proud of you.”

  “Your poppa will be proud, as am I,” his momma agreed.

  Stewart lifted the lines and steered the horses toward his parents’ home. My prayers are with both you and Natasha, Poppa.

  * * *

  “Geez,” Keeghan moaned. “By the story, I’m guessing there are only two roads leading to the cottage, and there are guards on both. Natasha and Willard know about the guards on the first route, but not the second. They will be following Stewart. Please don’t let anything happen to Natasha, Willard, or Goldie. Hope needs her Mommy. This is brutal.”

  She rubbed Constable’s head. Will put his hand around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. They both enjoyed a good drama, but she hated violence. She covered her eyes during violent scenes in movies. She had zero gore-tolerance within movies. Detesting boxing and wrestling, she turned her head if there was
a fight in a hockey game.

  Alex never responded but raised his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the screen for the saga to continue.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  After watching Stewart leave, Willard stepped into the cottage to ensure nothing remained that indicated Natasha had lived in the home. He locked the cottage.

  “I wish I knew they were safe. I do not possess the virtue of patience,” Natasha admitted, her voice just slightly above a whisper.

  She squatted, petting the dog.

  “I’m certain they arrived at our home safely and are anxiously waiting for our arrival,” Willard assured her. “We shall join them soon. We must be silent during our journey. You must ride in the back, hidden from anyone who might see us.”

  The wagon wasn’t small. It measured six feet wide and ten feet long, with three foot-high sides. There were tools scattered on the floor in the centre, a blanket and a thick pile of hay across the front. Natasha would hide in the hay with the blanket to protect her.

  “It is below your station, but it is the best I can offer at the moment,” he apologized.

  “It looks inviting,” she joked bravely.

  He smiled in reply.

  “This mode of travel is normally meant for Goldie, but she will be delighted to share.”

  “Thank you. How will I ever repay you?”

  “You already have, Natasha. You return my son’s love.”

  “You are aware of the consequences if you are caught with me. It would please me if you leave me on the road and return to the safety of your family.”

  “No. Eliza and I have discussed this. You and I shall be reunited with our family before the evening is through,” he said, his voice low but firm.

  The dog’s role suddenly became starkly clear to her. “Goldie could lose her life if she tries to protect me,” Natasha argued.

  “Don’t dwell on that. She’s a guard dog, responsible for protecting her family. Goldie has always suspected you needed protection. She will die a hero protecting us, if the need arises. Are you ready?”