Bea and Rhys

Chapter One

A young woman stared eagerly past the large oak trees as the afternoon sun spooled in through the nooks and crannies of the all encompassing forest. Past her lay a thick wood inhabited by many forms of wildlife. She could hear nothing but the sound of the thick wind, the howling river a few miles away, and her own footsteps cracking the fallen leaves as she went on through the woods. She had always dreamed of living outdoors among the animals like a caveman or an Indian. Those people got to go wherever and did whatever they wished, without the ties that bound them to other frivolous things, like for example, learning piano, baking bread, or tending to her and her mother's tomato garden.

She wished she could live away from all her troubles, no matter the danger. It couldn't be worse than returning home when the world she wished for was out here. As she sat in a large nook of a huge oak tree which towered above the rest, she could hear the chirps of birds, the knocks from the woodpeckers and the chitter chatter of the squirrels above her. "What a lovely little placel," she had thought aloud, back when she first discovered this place. It was a space all for herself. A place only she knew of.

"Bea! Beatrice?" called another voice. Oh boy, her little brother. Of all the places he could've picked to follow her. Heaving and huffing, he sat down on the ground of the forest. His knee-pants were covered in leaves and muck, most likely from playing in the dirt earlier this morning. It had rained the night before leaving the world fresh and new.

"Harrison Albright!" she groaned his name, exasperated. "How long have you been following me?" Bea looked him over with disapproval and the little boy picked himself up and dusted himself off. A few patches of dirt took up half of his little fair-skinned face. His long locks of light blonde hair whipped as the soft wind blew through them.

"I dunno," he responded, practically ignoring her, as he grabbed a hold of a stick and plunged it into the wet mud where he intended to make a hole of some kind for no apparent reason. The squirrels were long gone after the trampling of feet scared them away and Gwen huffed as she grabbed his hand and wheedled the stick out of his grasp. "What...? I was playing with that!" his bright blue eyes that were usually so happy turned into a scowl.
"Keep making that face and it'll freeze that way," Bea quoted Mother's favorite thing to say when Bea herself was angry. Bea had a few choice-words to say about her mom's ways of teaching, but those were words that she would never say to a six-year old. Ever.

Sitting up, Harrison looked around, curious to why this was the place that Beatrice always went off to when she didn't have the drive or energy to argue with Mother over lessons or Finishing School.

The squirrels had returned to their chattering ways as Harrison was no longer stomping through the glade with his brown leather boots that were still a tad too big for his small six-year old feet. Nature stirred quietly. A couple miles west of their home was a large rugged beach. The mountains laid east of their home and so they were surrounded by nature. Homeschooling was the only option out here as the nearest school was over the mountain. The only neighbors they had, the Griffiths were farm-owners and owned much of the land in the hills, but for some reason they refused to let the children play on their property, so the entire southeastern part of the valley was pretty much off-limits to them.

Bea had always despised Mr. Griffiths, who was a grumpy, angry old fellow, who never once greeted her with anything but a deep scowl. However, his son was fascinating to her. Rhys Griffiths, was seventeen and was currently studying to be a veterinarian. She would often see him studying in the orchard beyond the woods. Curious, one day she had spotted him down below the hill that divided this side of their territory. Below the hill laid many delicious fruit trees. Occasionally, when her father fished on the beach, he would trade his fish for Mr. she had taken a few steps over the borderline between her family's land and her own. His loyal companion, a large english setter had been resting its muzzle in his lap as he sat and read through his textbook. His concentration almost outshone his handsome face, which was chiseled with incredible cheekbones and a strong jawline. His dark brown eyes made him almost look godly to a fifteen year old girl. Rhys had once been a lanky boy and Bea's mother often commented that although he was spindly then, in a few years he would grow up to be quite handsome. His messy, long brown hair had always covered his face, but nowadays he wore it neater. He had grown a lot since those days when Bea would watch the farm boy from her window which looked out across the vast acres of land that Mr. Harrison owned. Now, here he was, standing in front of her, grinning.