The Heart of a Lie
Historical Fiction – Romantic – Gothic/Mystery
238 pages
Paperback | $14.95 | 978-1466281660
Kindle | $2.99 | B00667C99Q
Buy the Paperback on Amazon
Buy the Kindle Download on Amazon (80% off the paperback purchase price!)
Read the first chapter below for free!
The Heart of a Lie
by Meg North
Romantic, and with more than a touch of Gothic mystery, “The Heart of a Lie” is the story of a woman at the center of her family’s sinful past.
September 1868. Esther Perry is ready to become the owner of her Maine family farm. But a staggering debt forces her into bankruptcy. Esther and her younger sister Lara are without home or family. Suddenly, a mysterious aunt arrives on their doorstep with an incredible offer.
The sisters’ arrival in Portland introduces them to a new life and a new family. Esther finds friendship with her kind cousin and becomes acquainted with a handsome bachelor. But then she is parted from Lara, suffering cruelty and unfair treatment with little explanation.
For all is not as it seems in the Curtis house. And the truth impacts not only Esther’s life, but everyone around her.
CHAPTER ONE
As soft and lovely as the opening notes of a sonata, morning sunlight washed over my farm. Alighting the green front fields with golden tips. Bouncing over the ripples in the duck pond, splaying across the wide gray barn. The white farmhouse emerged from night’s shadow. Already a light clucking sounded from the henhouse, and a moo or two groaned from the barn. Before the day’s tasks beckoned me, I paused by the parlor windows. I gazed through the thick wavy glass, arms rubbing my shoulders, feeling a bit of the morning’s chill and also the warmth I felt whenever I looked upon my farm. My home.
“Esther! Biscuits are done!”
Sarah’s hearty fare awaited me at the fresh breakfast table. I ate absentmindedly, thinking of the things I had yet to do, while my younger sister Lara kept up a stream of chatter about Jacob Hodges, the neighbor’s boy, being so kind and cordial to her yesterday.
“He’s even offered to help with the harvest, Esther. Now, don’t you look so dreary about it. We could always use an extra hand. Nick and Wesley can’t do it all by themselves.”
I spooned baked beans onto a biscuit half. “They don’t, Lara, for we are helping with the harvest as well. Starting this morning after the feeding, we’ll be apple-picking.”
She frowned, slumping lower in her seat. “But I was going to ride Sarge today. Can’t it wait for tomorrow?”
“Lara, you ride Sarge every day.” I paused. “It’s already the fourteenth of September. I have put it off as long as I can, but we must begin.”
“Oh, all right.” She played with a twist of her golden hair. “Then I am having Jacob come over, whatever you say.”
“Fine.” I tried to give her a cross look, but she turned her bright blue eyes to me, and I chuckled. It was impossible to be mad at my sister for longer than a moment.
I finished the last of the breakfast and stood from the table. “I’m going to feed the cows. Please take tea up to Mother before you go out on your ride. You may have a carrot for Sarge, if you wish.”
“He likes apples more.”
“Then I guess you have found a reason to help with the apple-picking, haven’t you?” I gathered the plates. “Come to the orchard at ten o’clock. Jacob better be on time.”
She grinned. “Thank you, Esther.”
She hopped up out of her seat and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before skipping out of the dining room to the kitchen. I shook my head. Some days it was hard to remember my sister was nineteen, for all the girlishness she displayed. She had been a wondrous help with Mother’s care this summer, though. I took on the majority of the responsibility for the farm and we had taken turns nursing her. She fell ill with the most dreadful cough in June, and her fragile health clung to life like the last blossom before winter.
Perry Farm had little recovered from losing Mother’s guidance and help. I picked up the reins and directed the farm-hands as best I could, but some days I felt I was out on a branch in a storm, waiting to crash to earth. It was my home, and I’d do what I could to save it. Never mind the rumors about town it was failing. Never mind Jacob Hodges’ greedy father who desired my land like my own father desired drink. Never mind that Father had been killed in the war and we were three women alone. It was Lara, Mother and I. We had none to protect us.
Yet, somehow, our burdens had strengthened me. Like I was slowly being forged from raw metal into iron. The more I led Perry Farm, the better I became. The more I saw it not as a hardship, but as my rightful position. It was what I wanted, and I accepted it with complete conviction.
All I needed now was to have someone by my side. The strength and protection of a husband would provide me and my farm with strength, stability, leadership and direction. I could run Perry Farm, but I was ill-equipped for its more masculine duties. Someone for me. Someone like … Caleb Randolph.
I remembered the day he was hired to be our newest farm-hand. He’d come into the parlor to speak to Mother, his cheeks and nose a burnished red from the late winter cold. I was bringing laundry down from upstairs and at first sight of him, a rush whooshed up from my knees like a chimney blast.
It was time for the chores. I paused by the parlor mirror on my way down the back hall. My hair was the deepest brown, like an oak tree at night. Its length and weight kept it pinned in a heavy roll at my neck. I continued down the hall and stopped at the back door for my apron and bonnet. After I’d tied my homespun apron over my dress, I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek. Oh, it was not the warming September morning that brought such heat to my face.
But thoughts of Caleb were not needed to feed and milk the cows. I met Nick and Wesley, my other two farm-hands, at the door, and gave them the morning instructions – start the turnip and squash harvest in the kitchen garden.
“Where’s Mr. Randolph?” I asked, as quietly and steadily as I could.
Nick spit in the grass. “Ah, you know Caleb, Miss Perry. Shows up when he wants to.”
“I see.” My jaw tightened. “Jacob Hodges will be helping with the apple harvest.”
Wesley laughed. “I’ll bet he will. Scopin’ out the place for his father, no doubt.”
“It is my farm. Not his,” I muttered. “Time to get to work.”
Oh, how I hated Mr. Hodges. Jacob seemed amiable towards Lara, but it would not surprise me if he picked up a handful of my black soil and squeezed it between his fingers.
Perry Farm was on the choicest land in Knox County and a prize for any farmer. Most of Bayview’s shore and soil were littered with rocks like currants in a scone. Thanks to the towering pines and the giant bulk of the Camden hills, the soil was rich and fertile and the wind not quite as fierce as the farms closer to the sea. After Father left for war seven years ago, the townspeople had started asking questions about my farm. My brusque answers left little doubt that neither Mother nor I would sell.
But it did not stop Mr. Hodges. The horrid man lived just down Pine Street and leered at my place like a lecherous sailor. It made me shudder just to think about it. I picked up the tin milking pails and stomped off towards the barn.
If only Father had stayed. If only Mother was well. I could do little for these circumstances. As for marrying … it was something I could do. With Caleb by my side, Mr. Hodges had no chance and his pestering would cease.
Like a queen with her king, I would stand by his side and be the mistress of my home.
