Remy Lajard had been a computer programmer, but he’d also dabbled in microbrew beers in his spare time, a skill he’d brought with him to Baker’s Hollow. That had made him very popular among the residents, even more popular than Oxley.
But Susan had nothing. She’d been a metallurgist, dealing with high-tech alloys and materials that were miles beyond the iron, copper, and steel that were the best anyone here had or would ever hope to have. Up to now, she’d demonstrated no other skills except the ability to put an arrow into a piece of soft wood fifty yards away. If she could parlay that into the ability to hunt, great. If she couldn’t, it would be useless.
Hope’s father wouldn’t want to send Susan away. But he wouldn’t have a choice. Duke Halverson would insist that she be expelled, and Halverson had enough clout to get his way on things like that.
Hope had seen him do it at least once before, five years ago, when that clothing store manager had stumbled half-dead into town. Three months later, having exhausted every attempt to make him useful, he’d been taken to the edge of town and ordered to leave. Halverson had seen to it personally.
Three months was Halverson’s rule of thumb... and Susan’s three months were nearly up.
It wouldn’t be just Halverson who would insist, either. There were still fair numbers of deer and elk out there, but the wolves, coyotes, and cougars had also been coming back and were starting to seriously compete with the humans for those precious resources. Hope’s hunting party had had to travel nearly seven miles from town to find this buck, and that was going to translate into a long and wearying trek back home.
A trek the town’s best hunters were getting royally tired of. From the bits and pieces of her father’s conversations that Hope had overheard, some of the hunters were starting to talk about abandoning Baker’s Hollow and striking out on their own. Their argument was that a group of five or ten experts could survive far better alone than they were doing right now.
Which was undoubtedly true. Unfortunately, while that plan might work fine for them, it would devastate the town. Baker’s Hollow only had about fifteen good-to-excellent hunters, with another ten who Hope could charitably call competent. Skimming off ten or even five of the best would leave everyone else in serious trouble. The remaining woodsmen would have to scramble like mad to bring the competent hunters up to speed, and they would absolutely have to add new people to the rolls as quickly as possible. And they would have to immediately dump anyone and anything that constituted a drain on the town’s resources.
One way or another, Susan’s time was running out.
Hope had finished cutting the second arrow out of the deer when she heard footsteps in the undergrowth behind them. Not the quiet and stealthy movements of fellow hunters, but the casual strides of men and women on their way to collect a kill.
“Hope?” Ned Greeley’s deep voice called.
“Over here,” Hope called back, standing up and waving her bow.
A minute later the big man stepped through the trees and joined them.
“Nice,” he said, looking approvingly at the dead buck. “How’d she do?”
Hope suppressed a grimace. Ned was one of the expert hunters, as well as being a decent blacksmith. But if you weren’t one of his inner circle he had a bad habit of talking about you as if you weren’t there, even if you were standing three feet away. If Halverson ever decided it was time for the top hunters to strike out on their own, odds were that Ned would be the man right behind him when they hit the trail.
“Susan did fine,” she said.
“Um,” Ned rumbled, tilting his head and gazing pointedly at the marks of two retrieved arrows in the deer’s side. “Good save, anyway. Signal the others again, will you? It’s pretty thick there to the west, and Pepper may have drifted off target.”
Hope nodded and reached
But Susan had nothing. She’d been a metallurgist, dealing with high-tech alloys and materials that were miles beyond the iron, copper, and steel that were the best anyone here had or would ever hope to have. Up to now, she’d demonstrated no other skills except the ability to put an arrow into a piece of soft wood fifty yards away. If she could parlay that into the ability to hunt, great. If she couldn’t, it would be useless.
Hope’s father wouldn’t want to send Susan away. But he wouldn’t have a choice. Duke Halverson would insist that she be expelled, and Halverson had enough clout to get his way on things like that.
Hope had seen him do it at least once before, five years ago, when that clothing store manager had stumbled half-dead into town. Three months later, having exhausted every attempt to make him useful, he’d been taken to the edge of town and ordered to leave. Halverson had seen to it personally.
Three months was Halverson’s rule of thumb... and Susan’s three months were nearly up.
It wouldn’t be just Halverson who would insist, either. There were still fair numbers of deer and elk out there, but the wolves, coyotes, and cougars had also been coming back and were starting to seriously compete with the humans for those precious resources. Hope’s hunting party had had to travel nearly seven miles from town to find this buck, and that was going to translate into a long and wearying trek back home.
A trek the town’s best hunters were getting royally tired of. From the bits and pieces of her father’s conversations that Hope had overheard, some of the hunters were starting to talk about abandoning Baker’s Hollow and striking out on their own. Their argument was that a group of five or ten experts could survive far better alone than they were doing right now.
Which was undoubtedly true. Unfortunately, while that plan might work fine for them, it would devastate the town. Baker’s Hollow only had about fifteen good-to-excellent hunters, with another ten who Hope could charitably call competent. Skimming off ten or even five of the best would leave everyone else in serious trouble. The remaining woodsmen would have to scramble like mad to bring the competent hunters up to speed, and they would absolutely have to add new people to the rolls as quickly as possible. And they would have to immediately dump anyone and anything that constituted a drain on the town’s resources.
One way or another, Susan’s time was running out.
Hope had finished cutting the second arrow out of the deer when she heard footsteps in the undergrowth behind them. Not the quiet and stealthy movements of fellow hunters, but the casual strides of men and women on their way to collect a kill.
“Hope?” Ned Greeley’s deep voice called.
“Over here,” Hope called back, standing up and waving her bow.
A minute later the big man stepped through the trees and joined them.
“Nice,” he said, looking approvingly at the dead buck. “How’d she do?”
Hope suppressed a grimace. Ned was one of the expert hunters, as well as being a decent blacksmith. But if you weren’t one of his inner circle he had a bad habit of talking about you as if you weren’t there, even if you were standing three feet away. If Halverson ever decided it was time for the top hunters to strike out on their own, odds were that Ned would be the man right behind him when they hit the trail.
“Susan did fine,” she said.
“Um,” Ned rumbled, tilting his head and gazing pointedly at the marks of two retrieved arrows in the deer’s side. “Good save, anyway. Signal the others again, will you? It’s pretty thick there to the west, and Pepper may have drifted off target.”
Hope nodded and reached
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