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When it all ended abruptly—the colors, the enchantment, the kiss—her head was spinning.
Reaching for something to hold on to, her hands found Richard’s. The moment his fingers grasped hers the spinning stopped, but the light inside her didn’t fade.
“Marina?”
She shook her head, trying to remember where she was, who she was. As that all became clear, she asked, “Why did you do that? Why did you kiss me?”
“I don’t know,” he said, dropping her hands. “I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”
Marina closed her eyes briefly, still trying to make sense of what had happened—not the kiss or his apology, but the change inside her. Everything about her was warm and bright.
“It’s you,” he said roughly. “You’ve put some sort of spell on me.”
There are many myths behind the Salem Witch Trials—including stories shared within my own family.
I’d heard for years that there were ‘witches’ on my paternal grandmother’s side of the family, but it wasn’t until my son was digging deep into an online ancestry programme that I actually researched any of those stories. It turns out that my eighth great-grandmother was accused and imprisoned for being a witch. However, she never stood trial because her son-in-law petitioned for her release and paid her bail. He also promised to return her to the courts for trial within a few months, but that didn’t happen because the trials ended almost as swiftly as they started. I say ‘swiftly’ only in reference to a period of time, because I can only imagine that for the people who lived through this horrific event their lives were changed for ever.
Upon researching and reading many different viewpoints of the cause and effects of the trials, I was so captivated I decided to write a story set in that era. I used bits and pieces from my research, but Saving Marina is purely a fictional story. A tale of a sea captain and a woman who has been led to believe she’s a witch. I hope you enjoy Richard and Marina’s story as much as I enjoyed creating their journey to happily-ever-after.
Saving Marina
Lauri Robinson
A lover of fairy tales and cowboy boots, LAURI ROBINSON can’t imagine a better profession than penning happily-ever-after stories about men (and women) who pull on a pair of boots before riding off into the sunset—or kick them off for other reasons. Lauri and her husband raised three sons in their rural Minnesota home, and are now getting their just rewards by spoiling their grandchildren.
Visit: laurirobinson.blogspot.com, facebook.com/lauri.robinson1, twitter.com/laurir.
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To my Johnson aunts:
Mable, Violet, Pat, Linda and Faye.
Contents
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Massachusetts, 1692
“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”
Exodus 22:18, King James Version
The beast of burden beneath Richard Tarr was aptly labeled. With a broad, short back and powerful hindquarters, the horse was more suited for labor than riding. No amount of prodding could urge the massive brown steed into a pace faster than the jarring trot that had threatened to rattle the teeth right out of his mouth. Appreciating the teeth that had never given him any trouble, Richard resigned himself to letting the animal trod along. Unused to such travel, Richard found the saddle awkward, and the hot summer sun had sweat trickling down his back. All of it,