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Patricia Reding
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Science Fiction & Fantasy
Author Insight
A Picture of Hope
Hope is more than a wish. It is a confident expectation—a desire for a certain thing to happen. When I hope for something, sometimes I try to visualize what I want to come to pass. Reading this scene, I can envision what Nina’s imagination conjured up when Broden told her he’d found evidence of Carlie near the river. Needing to believe her daughter was safe, Nina dared not think about the risks of her having fallen, or of a drowning. Instead, perhaps Nina’s thoughts went something like this ... Carlie's leather saddlebag, cracked with age, and withered from humid summers and frigid winters, sported shiny spots where Carlie’s graceful hands had grasped it to open and to close it. Those hands, feminine, lithe, smooth with youth, drew to her mouth as she held back a cry of fear when unexpected sounds of horses’ tack and foreign voices sounded out, signaling approaching danger. Rushing away for safety, Carlie dropped her bag, sending its contents flying. A faded olive-green, boiled wood shawl, one of her favorites, found refuge in a mass of prickly bushes at the base of a nearby oak, unaware that the sour scent of mildew it exuded might tattle on its presence ...
Book Excerpt
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Broden peeked inside. “May I come in?” he asked, looking at Lucy. “Oh, you’re cleaning the great sword.” He chuckled. “It’s good to see you take it out of hiding every so often.”
She put the weapon down. “Yes, I like to keep it clean and sharp. Come on in. What can I do for you?”
He glanced at Jules, then at Nina, and finally, at the oldtimers. “I see you’re busy,” he said. “Maybe I should come back later.”
“Now is fine,” Lucy said.
“Ahhhh . . . well . . .”
Jules rushed to his feet. “Did someone find her? Is Carlie all right? Where was she? How is she?”
Broden put his hand on his arm. “No, I’m sorry. We haven’t found her.” He glanced Lucy’s way again. “I’ll come back later.”
“What is it, Broden?” she snapped. “I haven’t time for games.”
“Very well, then. I’m sorry, Jules, Nina,” he tipped his head to each of them in turn, “we didn’t find Carlie, but we did find some of her belongings.”
Nina sprang to her feet. “What is it? What did you find? Is she—”
“We don’t know anything for certain,” Broden said, holding his hand up. “We found one of her saddlebags near the river . . . empty. She’s been missing too long now for us to conclude anything from the evidence.”
“But you didn’t find her . . . body.”
“No, we didn’t. So there’s still hope.”
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