October Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: In the Shadow

Time Setting: 1903

Genre: History

Minimum Word Goal: 90,000

Timespan: February–April

Locations: Fort Macleod, Frank, and Blairmore, District of Alberta, Northwest Territories*; Fernie, British Columbia

Main Characters: Parker Duncan, Rowynna Price

Background Information: 

Born the second of three sons to a Hudson’s Bay employee and his wife in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Parker has been well acquainted with tragedy in his life.

First it was his father and brother who died in an outbreak of sickness when he was three; then — after remarrying and moving west to Swift Current, Northwest Territories — his mother died in childbirth when he was six; then his stepfather died from burns incurred fighting a grass fire when he was ten.

After that he and his younger brother were sent to an adoptive family in the area of Calgary, further west in the Northwest Territories, but the experience there was so unpleasant he and his brother ran away to Fort Macleod to the south.

There they had to fend for themselves, which included a little bit of stealing; this got his younger brother arrested, but the NWMP†, who’d arrested him had sympathy on the boys — aged thirteen and eleven — and contacted their grandparents in Halifax, who took the boys back in.

Unlike his brother, Parker didn’t adapt well to the ‘return’ to Halifax’s established urban environment — seeing how they’d been five and three when they left their recollections of the city were quite dim — and longed for the wide open spaces of the West.

Additionally, his interactions with the NWMP had filled his heart with a desire to be like them, so, when he turned eighteen, he took a gift of money from his bachelor uncle and spent it on a train fare back to Fort Macleod, where he joined the NWMP, with whom he has served for two years since.

In that time he made the acquaintance of an older officer who has become something of an older brother to him and has welcomed him into his family. As it happened, this officer had a younger sister who was both beautiful and unmarried.

She found him handsome in turn and the two started courting, becoming betrothed before Christmas, with the wedding date set for May 2, 1903.

Although he loves his fiancée and is eager to marry her, he can’t help but be worried, seeing how his father, mother, and stepfather have all died, what’s guaranteeing that his fiancée won’t be taken from him?

Thankfully his NWMP duties are plentiful and don’t give him too much time to think on such worries; although he has to admit that he actually wishes he was busier so that he wouldn’t have any time to think on them at all.

Born the youngest of seven children to a Welsh-born liveryman and his Canadian-born Irish-French wife in Stavely, Northwest Territories, Rowynna has lived a generally simple existence.

Her parents are devout Anglicans — her mother converted from Catholicism by her father — and so attending Sunday service and other church functions has always been a core part of her life; whatever free time she’s had otherwise has been occupied around the home.

Like her three older sisters, she has been educated well in the art of homemaking on all fronts, and has enjoyed learning it far more than attending church events and WCTU meetings with her mother, who admittedly has a rather overbearing personality; but she has always enjoyed her free time the most.

The majority of her free time has been spent helping her father with the horses at his stables: brushing them, cleaning their tack, and even braiding their manes and tails when she can — even though everyone aside from her youngest older sister sees that activity as frivolous.

All of these activities have been mainstays in her life in spite of the fact that her family has picked up and moved twice, first moving from Stavely south to Granum when she was ten — the livery in Stavely being left to her oldest brother, while her second-oldest brother continued south of Granum to Fort Macleod to join the NWMP — and then just two years ago moving from Granum — whose livery was given to her youngest brother — to the newly-established mining town of Frank, located in the Crow’s Nest Pass.

Now seventeen, Rowynna is setting up to be the last child remaining at home, as her oldest sister married while they lived in Granum and moved to Claresholm, and her second-oldest sister has married the nephew of Frank’s general store proprietor — in fact, the couple are expecting their first child in late April — while her youngest older sister, and lifelong closest companion, is getting set to marry a young NWMP constable who was introduced to her by their second-oldest brother.

Rowynna has no qualms about settling down and getting married herself, except for the fact that she doesn’t see anyone suitable in Frank.

The majority of the population are hard-drinking foul-mouthed miners who frequent the saloons more regularly than the churches — and are highly disapproved-of by her mother — and the other, more suitable candidates in her mother’s eyes to her are largely unhandsome bores.

What she would like would be to meet a man like her father, either that, or to be introduced to a young NWMP constable by her second-oldest brother, but as of yet neither has occurred, and Rowynna isn’t inclined to think either will happen within the next five years — by which time her mother expects her to be married — living in a coal-mining town that’s decently isolated from the rest of the area.

*Alberta (and Saskatchewan) became provinces of Canada in 1905; †NWMP is the North-West Mounted Police, who would go on to become the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 1920.

Pronunciation:

Macleod: muhklowd

Concealed Intentions: Day 20

Word Total: 120,021

Year to Date: 870,278

Summary of Events:

Borden and Honour hiked through the woods, with Borden making sure that they didn't head too far north too fast, lest they be forced to cross the busy divided highway in that direction. Nadia was taken by Horea to Berlin, where she was introduced to a man who gave Horea ten million lei in exchange for her, leaving her horrified and distraught. Having finally reached Prince George, Borden was able to keep in trees most of the way to Honour's house, but encountered men with guns while skirting along the edge of a housing development, and so had to run through the trees; reaching the hockey arena, Borden ordered Honour to go on ahead of him and stopped to confront the gangsters, striving only to wound . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

After taking down one or two dozen men in their gun arm, Borden recognised Dane among those firing at him and hesitated. Dane fired calmly and pain tore through Borden’s right hand and fingertips.

Borden looked at his hand from both sides. It looked like Dane had hit him squarely in the middle, his middle and ring fingertips were bleeding as well. Now he was going to need to go to the hospital whether he liked it or not.

Dane smirked and stalked closer to him. Borden felt a wave of anger rise in him. He still considered Dane a friend, even after what Dane had done to Ty, but he could see the cold-bloodedness in Dane as he stalked closer and prepared to fire again.

In spite of the pain in his hand, Borden used the thumb and forefinger to advance the next round into the chamber and fired straight into Dane’s right shoulder, but Dane didn’t stop coming at him, so he advanced the next round and fired it as well.

Immediately Dane’s smile fell away and his gun dropped to the ground. 

Seeing no more men looking like they were going to fire at him, Borden turned and ran . . .

Passing a funeral home and a church, Borden came upon a schoolyard; he kept walking, pretty sure Honour lived north of the school, but the sound of crying turned his attention back to the school and he saw Honour curled up by a set of blue doors that led into the building.

Quickly Borden jogged up the walkway to where Honour was. He put a hand on her shoulder and she startled.

“Oh Mister Borden!” she cried with delight, wrapping her arms about his neck. 

Borden embraced her back with his left arm, feeling a tentative relief. He’d shaken the gangsters at the very least, and that ought to keep Honour safe at least for a time.

After awhile Honour let go and looked at him. “The bad guys won’t come back?”

“I can’t be sure,” Borden replied. “But I think I’ve at least lost them, when you’re home the police can keep you safe too, let’s go.”

“Mister Borden, your hand,” Honour pointed, looking with shock at the bloody wound.

“Yeah, they got me, but at least it’s the hand I don’t write with,” Borden said. “I promise I’ll go to the hospital and get the doctor to close it up, but you need to get home first, come.”

Borden straightened and Honour took hold of his left hand — the one she usually held anyways — and Borden led her back to the Boulevard, along which they walked north, crossing Rainbow Drive with the lights.

Honour towed him left at the Salvation Army church and down along what Borden found was called Reid Crescent until they reached a nice-looking house with an attached garage that looked to be not more than twenty years old.

Her hand slid off of his fingers and Borden stopped as she hurried to the door and rang the doorbell. He stepped behind the short spruce tree in the front yard and watched as the door opened.

“Honour!” Isabel — looking only slightly more mature and maternal than she’d looked some ten years ago — cried, dropping to her knees and wrapping Honour in an embrace.

In spite of himself Borden felt tears prick his eyes. He’d done it. He’d brought Honour home.

Next Post: 30 September

Concealed Intentions: Day 19

Word Count: 114,009

Summary of Events:

Nadia arrived at Vitaly's apartment after work and ended up getting into an argument with Vitaly, who told her that he'd not sent Horea to walk with her, and that he didn't want her leaving Moldova with Horea, but she still intended to. Borden was feeling tired, as his bruise from falling on the mountain still hurt and was making it hard for him to sleep, but he and Honour reached their last camping spot for the trip regardless. Nadia woke up early and snuck out of Vitaly's apartment to meet Horea; she was not pleased to find he had three strong male friends with him, and that she was forced to sit between two of them in the backseat, including one who brandished a hypodermic syringe and told her to be quiet if she didn't want him to inject her with it . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

Suddenly Nadia wished that Vitaly had been awake and had heard her, that he would come after her. She felt that she had been a fool not to listen to him, deceived by the romance that she had shared with Horea the night before, and now she felt a severe regret for having snuck out on Vitaly.

Before long Nadia realised that they were on Highway M2, heading north of Chișinău, especially when a sign proclaiming Stăuceni was approaching.

“We’re going the wrong way Horea,” Nadia said.

“No we’re not,” Horea replied.

“The airport is south of Chișinău, not north,” Nadia said. “It’s on the R two, not the M two.”

“Did I tell you that our flight was going out of Chișinău?” Horea asked.

Nadia was silent, thinking it over. No, actually, he hadn’t.

“No,” she replied.

“Then don’t make presumptions,” Horea replied.

“But Chișinău’s airport makes the most sense,” Nadia said. “Seeing as we’re in Chișinău.”

“The cheaper flights are out of Mărculești,” Horea replied.

“Mărculești?” Nadia asked. “But that’s two hours away.”

“Two hours of driving saving hundreds of dollars in flying seems like a good exchange to me,” Horea replied. “Now will you be quiet please?”

“But why?” Nadia asked. “You’ve never disliked me talking to you before.”

“You’re asking too many questions,” Horea said. “Especially for this hour of the morning.”

“But this isn’t like you Horea,” Nadia said. “You’ve never been like this.”

“And is there something wrong with me being like this?” Horea asked.

“Yes,” Nadia replied. “It’s unkind, and it’s evasive. You’ve never been evasive with me before.”

“I have to be,” Horea replied. “The last thing I want is to attract attention.”

“What kind of attention are you going to attract?” Nadia asked.

“You say any more and in ten seconds I am injecting you,” the man to Nadia’s left warned, brandishing the syringe again.

“Please Nadia,” Horea said. “Just keep quiet, maybe get some more sleep. It will help you be more rested for our flight.”

Nadia looked warily at the men flanking her, but leaned her head back against the seat anyways. Tears flooded her eyes and she felt very afraid, as well as very foolish. The words that Vitaly had spoken in his sobs returned to her mind: He is going to sell you Nadia.

What did that mean? Was Horea actually going to sell her like an article of clothing or an animal? Was there going to be actual money exchanged? Nadia really didn’t want to find out, but she was very afraid and wished desperately that Vitaly had woken up, that he’d heard her leave, and that he was hot on the heels of Horea.

Maybe there was even some way that Vitaly would make it to Mărculești before she, Horea, and the three strangers she was with made it. That would be wonderful, but Nadia wasn’t sure, she’d done her best not to be heard, and she was very afraid that she had succeeded.

Pronunciations:

Stăuceni: stahwchehnee

Mărculești: mahrchoolehstee

Concealed Intentions: Day 18

Word Count: 108,069

Summary of Events:

Nadia informed her parents, grandparents, and other relatives gathered to celebrate her graduation that she was moving to Italy in two days; this incited an uproar and Nadia asked Vitaly if she could stay with him for the remaining time she had in Moldova. Borden and Honour were trekking through some trees that had gone up in flames the previous summer when they heard dogs behind them and were forced to flee from the gangsters, who'd caught up to them; after running for a bit Borden made Honour run ahead of him and stayed to face the gangsters . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Taking a deep breath, he removed the gun from its place against his spine, advanced a round into the chamber, turned, and fired.

A human voice uttered a strangled cry and Borden saw the man he’d sighted on the ground clinging to his hand. Another ran up, barely containing a snapping German Shepherd, and fired a pistol somewhat wildly at Borden, who watched the shot go wildly off to the right.

Borden walked calmly backwards. For all the tension, for the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything bulletproof, Borden felt calm; he knew what to do, and he felt very much like that was going to give him the advantage.

Another man without a dog brandished a rifle. Borden fired just as the man had gotten the gun settled onto his shoulder, before he’d had chance to sight and aim, and he, too, yelped, dropping his gun to clutch a bleeding hand.

The dog was still barking and growling savagely, and several more men — including a couple more with dogs — appeared, including a blonde-haired man with boring Russian hair and ink darkening the flesh of his neck to colours not natural to humanity.

This man put a gun to his shoulder and fired with a swiftness that caught Borden off guard — as did the searing pain that tore across his jaw.

In quick succession Borden fired two shots that left that man clutching his arm in agony and pain. Borden started walking backwards more briskly, watching for anyone to shoot at him.

No one did, so Borden turned around and took off at a run. A couple shots rang out behind him, but none of them hit him. He stopped and turned to see if they had advanced into range, and he saw one man was pursuing him who looked rather like he had the build to be on the BC Lions, although his football skills were unknown.

Borden fired at the man, but like the shots fired at him in motion, his own shot didn’t hit his desired mark because the man was moving, although it did cause blood to start running down the man’s upper right arm.

Not unlike himself, the man hardly missed a beat, instead he ducked behind a tree, then peered around and fired two shots at Borden, who had darted off to be behind his own tree, which had taken the shots on his behalf.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the man had ducked behind his tree, waiting for Borden to fire. 

Patiently, Borden waited for him to come back out, because he knew that running would alert the man and cause more shots to be fired at him, which he wanted to avoid.

Finally the man turned and Borden fired.

The man cried out and clutched his hand while Borden turned and ran at top speed toward the lake.

Concealed Intentions: Day 17

Word Count: 102,001

Summary of Events:

Nadia tried standing up to her father on Horea's advice, but things didn't go well; in fact, her father threatened to kill her if she tried standing up to him again. Borden carried Honour on his back as he walked — mostly because he could travel faster at his stride length than hers — and asked her a little bit about the men who had captured her before they had to cross a creek . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

He led the way forward and stepped into the water. Honour startled and pulled her foot out.

“It’s cold,” she said.

“We’re at the wrong part of the province for the hot springs,” Borden replied. “Besides, this is probably freshly-melted snow from one of those mountains we just crossed.”

Honour seemed to steel herself before stepping in again. The water came nearly to her knees. She gripped Borden’s hand tightly while Borden started forward, not transferring weight onto a foot until he was sure that it wasn’t going to slide out of place and cause him to fall into the water.

Once they’d crossed the creek Borden sat down, removed his backpack, and then pulled off his sweater and his t-shirt, using the latter to dry his feet before he slid them back into his socks and boots. He offered his shirt to Honour, who seemed to be distracted by his bare chest.

“Are you really a good guy?” Honour asked, looking him critically in the eye.

“Yeah,” Borden replied, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You have pictures like the bad guys,” Honour replied.

Borden looked down at his chest and arms, then back up at Honour. “Which ones?”

“No, they don’t look the same, they look like nice pictures, but they’re still pictures, which is what the bad guys have,” Honour replied.

“Well pictures aren’t just for bad guys,” Borden replied. “And you said they’re nice pictures, shouldn’t that prove I’m a good guy?”

“But why do you have them?” Honour asked.

That was actually a good question. Why did he have them?

“Um, well, because I wanted them,” Borden replied, feeling slightly self-conscious about them.

“But Mama says that they poke you to put them in,” Honour said.

“Yeah, they do,” Borden replied.

“That hurts,” Honour said.

“It really does,” Borden said.

“But why would you hurt yourself if you’re a good guy?” Honour asked.

“To not have the same old plain skin of everyone else,” Borden suggested.

“Why?” Honour insisted.

“I don’t really know, actually,” Borden replied. “I just got them. I never really thought about why.”

“I don’t want them,” Honour said.

“If you don’t want to you don’t have to, nobody’ll ever force you,” Borden said. “At this point you’re too young anyways.”

“What is that one?” Honour pointed toward Borden’s side.

“This?” Borden pointed at his bruise.

“Yeah,” Honour replied.

“That’s a bruise,” Borden replied. “That one will go away.”

“Is that from when you fell down?” Honour asked.

“Yes,” Borden replied.

“Oh,” Honour said.

Borden put his boots and socks back on and then slid his sweater over his head, put his backpack over his chest, and made sure Honour was settled comfortably on his back.

He stuffed one sleeve and shoulder of his t-shirt into his front pocket so that the shirt could dry as he walked and started off again, continuing through the trees.

Concealed Intentions: Day 16

Word Count: 96,143

Summary of Events:

Nadia, having decided she wanted to go work in Italy with Horea, agreed to spend the day — Saturday — with him getting started on the necessary paperwork to make the move out of Moldova. Borden delayed his start by an hour so Honour could sleep, as he'd walked a good part of the night with her in order to get them as far away from her captors as possible, then they climbed the mountains, as Borden was hoping to get to Tagetochlain Lake by the end of the day if he could . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Borden was grateful that Honour lapsed into silence again, as he was going to have to start climbing above the tree line; ahead of him was some rather steep faces that would either force him down to the waterway below, or up higher, and seeing how he wanted, and needed, to go over the mountain peak anyways, going up sooner would probably be the better choice.

After a time Borden’s side really started aching as his body worked to pull in enough air, he was starting to be able to tell the air was a little thin, and as he kept walking it started to become more evident.

“You’re going to need to walk for a little bit,” Borden said. “It’s too much weight to carry you and the backpack.”

Honour slid down without protest and settle into following Borden; each time he glanced back he saw her placing her feet in the prints he’d left in the snow.

Borden did his best to breathe deeply and drink regularly, along with making sure that Honour took regular drinks, even though she didn’t seem to be suffering as Borden felt he was suffering.

As they kept walking Borden inwardly cursed that he hadn’t brought any mountain climbing equipment as he carefully tested each step before he put his full weight onto his foot. When he glanced back he saw Honour moving with the same caution.

Things weren’t as level as they looked, and Borden wasn’t really comfortable with how close to the edge they were having to walk, but in order to get to the other side they had to do it some way, and Borden had hoped this would be the less steep way to do it; although he wasn’t sure if it actually was, he wasn’t exactly going to turn back now.

Finally Borden reached the trench he’d walked down days before; his footprints were still in the snow, and he followed them in the opposite direction, his gaze fixed on the peak when there was a yelp behind him.

Turning cautiously, Borden saw that Honour had fallen again. He carefully made his way back down to her, collected her in his arms silently, and kept going. Honour clung to him and whimpered as he fixed his gaze on the peak ahead again.

“I don’t feel good,” Honour whimpered.

“Just another metre and then we’re over,” Borden whispered.

With two strides Borden stood at the top again; he straightened and surveyed his surroundings for a moment before Honour moaned and Borden knew it would be best to descend to the tree line, from there he’d make his way to the considerably lower peak, and then down to where oxygen levels were normal for the rest of the trek to Prince George.

Concealed Intentions: Day 15

Word Count: 90,281

Summary of Events:

Borden began another day's hiking by following a waterway he was sure would lead him to Kitimat, but before he reached the town he encountered a well-kept and newly-built yard site that left him highly suspicious. Nadia was picked up by Horea in his car and he took her to his apartment to kill some time so that she didn't make her parents too suspicious by showing up home early. Having watched the yard site all day Borden had seen a little girl who matched the photo he had of Honour perfectly, so once it was dark he moved in, finding an underground arsenal disguised by a shed and took a gun on his way to the cabin he'd seen Honour at during the day . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

He hurried across the open space toward the cabin, he could hear quiet, childish sobbing, and he hurried toward the dimly lit window.

At the sound of something behind him Borden dropped to his stomach and lay still, ears burning. He heard the sound of the lock clicking, then feet crossed the grass and Borden heard feet heading up stony stairs.

Once the feet had receded enough, Borden raised himself up to look in the sash window that was slightly open.

The room was decorated in a more adult style, to Borden’s way of thinking, but the bedding was definitely juvenile, as was the little girl sobbing in the bed.

“I want to go home,” she sobbed.

“Honour,” Borden whispered as loudly as he dared.

Immediately she went straight and wide-eyed, looking petrified.

“Honour,” Borden repeated.

She saw him. “Who are you?” she asked, sounding defensive.

“My name is Borden, I’ve come to take you home,” Borden whispered.

“No,” Honour said firmly. “I want Mama and Papa.”

“Honour please,” Borden begged. “I’ll take you to them.”

“No, I don’t know you,” Honour retorted.

“I’m a friend of your Mama,” Borden said.

“No you’re not,” Honour snapped.

“Yes I am,” Borden said. “I just haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“That’s because you’re a bad guy,” Honour snapped.

“No, it’s because I’m in the army,” Borden replied; feeling a sharp pang of guilt for the half-truth.

Honour’s demeanour changed, she looked awed. “You’re from the army?”

“Yes,” Borden lied. “And I’ve come to take you home. Quick, get warm clothes on.”

Quickly she slid out of bed. Borden looked away from the window to let her change in privacy. In moments she was at the window, dressed as he’d seen her earlier.

“Do you have any other clothes?” Borden asked, removing the screen.

“No,” Honour replied.

“Okay,” Borden said, he lifted the window wider open and Honour scrambled out.

Borden closed the window to where it’d been before and replaced the screen, he then gathered Honour into his arms and walked briskly across the yard to the creek.

“The road is over there,” Honour said, pointing back over his shoulder.

“But I came through the bush,” Borden replied. “That’s why it took me so long.”

He walked confidently across the creek, even in spite of a small slip that nearly brought him down.

Setting Honour down, Borden walked on cautious feet, not wanting anything to stab them, until they found his backpack, socks, and boots — the latter two he returned to his feet.

Hefting his backpack onto his shoulders, Borden grabbed Honour’s hand and started leading her through the trees where he’d decided to go as a shortcut instead of following the creek through its wide bend to the north.

The further they could get back toward Prince George tonight, the greater of a head start they would have that should keep them safe — although Borden was grateful for the gun, just in case.

Concealed Intentions: Day 14

Word Count: 84,267

Summary of Events:

Nadia called Vitaly and discussed the idea of her resistance to their parents making their parents relent, which Vitaly doubted would happen as long as their father was alive. Borden made his way across the Coast Mountains without getting altitude sickness, although he had his concerns how Honour would fare on the way back. Nadia was concerned to see Horea not waiting at the place he always waited at, only to discover that, because of the rain, he'd driven his car, in which he offered her a ride; the car's power and fanciness astonished Nadia . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“You seem nervous,” Horea said.

“The engine sounds very powerful for a car,” Nadia replied.

“Oh,” Horea said. “Have you never been in a luxury car before?”

“No,” Nadia replied. “What work do you do that gets you a luxury car when even Father doesn’t have one and he works in finance?”

“I didn’t buy it new,” Horea replied, moving smoothly away from the curb. “I actually got it willed to me by my uncle. He lived and worked in Germany until he died.”

“Oh,” Nadia said.

“This is what twenty times the money can get you,” Horea said stroking the frame along the arch of the window.

“Why did your uncle give it to you?” Nadia asked. “Didn’t he have sons?”

“No,” Horea replied. “He was a lifelong bachelor. He took on providing for my family after my father was killed. My sister and I were the children he never had.”

“Oh,” Nadia said. “But then why does your sister have to work abroad? Did your uncle not make enough money to leave you well off?”

“She chose to work abroad to add to her inheritance,” Horea replied. “She and I were both willed something valuable,” he indicated the car, “and the rest of the money was put away in a trust for us in Germany from which we get a yearly allowance of one hundred thousand lei until we turn thirty, then we’ll get the remaining lump sum allotted for us to use as we will. Our mother was given a portion of money when our uncle died that has kept her well, plus she gets about fifty thousand lei a year from my sister, so she’s well taken care of.”

“My,” Nadia said. “How much money will you get when you’re thirty?”

“I don’t actually know,” Horea replied. “I know my uncle was a multi-millionaire in Germany, which would mean he had at least forty million lei, but possibly more.”

“And you’re going to go to Italy and make more?” Nadia asked.

“Why not?” Horea asked. “It would be nice to have millions that my own hard work earned me.”

“Do you think I could become a millionaire?” Nadia asked.

“All you need to do is go somewhere and make fifty thousand Euros,” Horea replied.

“Wouldn’t I need to make a million Euros?” Nadia asked.

“Not to make a million lei,” Horea replied. “A million lei is fifty thousand Euros.”

“Do you think I could become a millionaire in Euros?” Nadia asked.

“With your stellar looks it’s not so much an if as a when,” Horea replied, gunning the car through a red light.

“Horea!” Nadia exclaimed.

“What?” Horea asked. “You are beautiful.”

“Not that!” Nadia exclaimed. “You ran a red light!”

“No one was coming,” Horea said offhand.

“You’re worse than Vitaly,” Nadia said.

“Oh, he stops at red lights?” Horea asked.

“When I’m with him, anyways,” Nadia replied. “And I don’t even have to remind him anymore.”

“Oh,” Horea said. “I’ll try to remember next time I notice one.”

Concealed Intentions: Day 13

Word Count: 78,028

Summary of Events:

Nadia talked things over with Horea, who urged her to leave Moldova for Western Europe in spite of her parents' objections, telling her he was sure that if she joined Vitaly in resisting her parents' expectations her parents would relent and let her live the life she wanted to. Borden trudged unhappily through rain, castigating himself for having forgotten a raincoat and worrying about how tall the approaching mountains were for his sake as much as Honour's; he ended up crossing a gravel road just as some provincial government officials — probably in the forestry department — were driving by; they chased him, since he wasn't in an area popular with vacationers, which wore Borden down, but he managed to keep ahead of them . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Borden dared to check his compass app again and decided he was heading a little too far due north, so he shifted to be more west and kept on walking, his main focus being to put one foot in front of the other.

A fallen tree prompted Borden to halt, he turned around and sat down on it heavily, desperate to catch his breath so that he would have the energy for the remaining distance that — no matter how far along the Nadina River he’d crossed — had to be less than five kilometres to Tagetochlain* Lake.

Once he’d restored his energy — sucking back several good gulps of water from the bottle he carried with him, full of cooled water he’d boiled last night — and become confident that the provincial officials who’d chased him down had given up and gone back, Borden swung his legs over the tree and continued on his walk.

It was only once the trees naturally thinned and revealed a rather large open space that Borden realised that it had completely stopped raining. He might be able to have dry clothes for the next day, but probably not dry firewood for the night.

Borden crossed another road that was relatively straight and devoid of traffic and headed for where the trees looked to get the thickest. He then followed those trees to thicker trees and across another road, skirting along the edge of a large open area until the trees ended abruptly, revealing before him an open expanse of water.

Tagetochlain Lake. Finally.

Checking the time on his cellphone, Borden found that it was half past eight, almost fifteen hours since he’d set out in the morning. He lowered himself to the ground and leaned against a tree, basking in the sight of the open water.

It was only after gazing at the water for a few minutes that he realised that the water not only extended northwest of him — where it met with the horizon as it was a long, narrow lake, like most in British Columbia were, as they needed to fit between all the mountains — and also a ways to the northeast where he could see a shoreline, but also southwest of him.

According to his map there were no peninsulas into Tagetochlain Lake, but there was one that pointed west into Nadina Lake.

Borden felt concerned. Was he at the wrong lake?

Taking out his cellphone, he checked the compass app. He was facing northwest, not west or southwest. Either there was a too-small-for-the-map peninsula that jutted into the southeastern end of Tagetochlain Lake, or he was at some other lake entirely.

At the moment Borden was just too weary from the long day of trudging in the rain to care. He was by a body of water he could — hopefully — get what he needed to make his supper from, and along whose southwestern shore he would walk tomorrow with the hope of reaching Atna Lake within the Coast Mountains the following day.

*pronunciation unknown.

Concealed Intentions: Day 12

Word Count: 72,007

Summary of Events:

Nadia asked her father what types of jobs he would like her to have, and was dismayed to learn he wanted her to be in politics or finance; texting Vitaly, she hoped he'd have suggestions of what to do to avoid an office job but not be alone, but he had no suggestions. Borden woke stiff and sore, but after eating a granola bar, set off westward, thinking about how, in some respects, he was like the explorers who'd opened Canada up to the rest of the world hundreds of years before . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

A sound interrupted Borden’s thoughts. He froze. The sound had been enough to get his attention, but not enough to break through his thoughts and thoroughly identify itself.

Listening intently, Borden didn’t move. He waited for the sound to repeat itself.

His muscles tensed when he heard it again. It was a human sound, a whoop.

He’d just crossed a road and had seen a sign to the south advertising the entrance to the Finger Lake Wilderness Resort, but he’d seen the facility before he’d stopped last night, so he was beyond that too much for the whoop to have come from there.

Another sound then reached his ears; a motor.

Not just any motor either, but a boat motor. He was close to water deep enough for a motorboat?

Quickly he fetched his map from his backpack’s side pocket and looked. There was nothing west of Finger Lake until Knewstubb Lake, which was a good thirty kilometres away if he was eyeballing the gauge right.

Borden stowed the map and cautiously made his way north, which was the way the sounds seemed to be coming from.

Soon the trees thinned and Borden found himself standing at the edge of a lake, on which a motorboat was speeding.

Fetching his cellphone, Borden checked the time. It was quarter after five in the morning and already people were tearing around lakes on their motorboats? Apparently sleeping in on Sundays wasn’t a thing anymore.

Borden stepped back into the trees and resumed his westward track. He was grateful to know that the people weren’t likely going to find him, but still, it had been a little alarming to hear human sounds at this point in his journey.

He’d been away from people for almost three days — counting the day he’d spent prepping in Prince George — and although there was the potential for human encounters the whole length of his trek, Borden had thought that in his efforts to avoid people he wouldn’t hear them, but he had just had it proved to him that such wouldn’t be the case.

And it was probably a good thing too, as how was he going to avoid people if he didn’t hear them coming? 

Sure he could see buildings and whatnot and skirt wide of them or keep his view of them as obscured as possible in an effort to go unseen, but if he was trying to make himself difficult to be seen by others then he would find those others difficult to see, meaning that hearing them would keep him from being seen by them.

Concealed Intentions: Day 11

Word Count: 66,021

Summary of Events:

Nadia set off for home alone because she hadn't wanted to wait for Horea and got her wallet snatched, but the thief ended up running into Horea, who beat him up and gave Nadia her wallet back before escorting her the rest of the way home. Borden, although tired and sore, kept walking, determined to rescue Honour for the sake of her and her foster family. Horea was ready for Nadia the next time she left the restaurant and they walked together from the start . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“I, um, I also feel badly for lying to you yesterday,” Horea replied.

“Lying?” Nadia asked, feeling concerned and scandalised. “How?”

“Well, you see, I, um, I do have a sister,” Horea replied.

“Oh,” Nadia said. “Why didn’t you mention her?”

“Well, because she’s not living in Moldova right now,” Horea replied.

“Where is she living?” Nadia asked.

“Italy,” Horea replied.

“And I’d presume she’s working there,” Nadia said.

“Yes,” Horea replied.

“Bringing in extra money for you and your mother?” Nadia asked.

“I have my own work, I make enough money to survive,” Horea replied. “I don’t make a fortune, by any means, but I do make pretty good money. She mostly sends money home to our mother.”

Nadia nodded.

“She, um, works as a model there, and she’s paid thousands of Euros for each thing she does,” Horea said. “The length determines the exact number, but she never makes less than one thousand Euros, some times just for one day.”

“Oh my,” Nadia said. “How many lei is that?”

“Multiply it by twenty,” Horea replied.

Nadia gasped. “Twenty thousand lei?”

“Yes,” Horea replied. “Never less.”

“That’s so much money,” Nadia whispered. It made the lei Vitaly had given her for her birthday seem pathetic. 

“It is, indeed,” Horea replied. “And my sister has told me that they’re always in need of models in Italy; no surprise, seeing how many fashion designers have establishments there.”

Nadia nodded.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have that much money?” Horea asked.

“But I don’t know Italian,” Nadia replied.

“It’s quite similar to Moldovan, actually,” Horea said. “It would be a lot easier than trying to learn English. Besides, I’ve also heard that people who know more than one language find it easier to learn more. Since you know Russian and Moldovan then it should be quite easy for you.”

“It would be so far away from home, though,” Nadia said. “That’s the whole reason I don’t want to go to Moscow.”

“Moscow?” Horea asked.

“Yes,” Nadia replied. “Because Vitaly refused to get the prestigious education Father wanted him to have I am the one expected to take it, but I don’t want to work an office job any more than Vitaly does, but I wouldn’t mind pursing a measure of secondary education to make a respectable income.”

“So you mean to please your father partially, but not wholly?” Horea asked.

“I guess,” Nadia replied.

“Wouldn’t this be a way of doing it?” Horea asked. “You go to Italy and make up to twenty thousand lei a day doing something that isn’t office work, he’d have to be pleased.”

“I don’t know,” Nadia replied.

“You don’t necessarily have to be a model,” Horea said. “Although I do think you would be well suited to the position, but even a job like you’re working now would net you twenty times as much as you’re making were you to do it in Italy.”