Prologue
Southeastern Kentucky was always known as a poverty-stricken area of the state. Some people, particularly the older folks, often described Harlan County as Bloody Harlan. Back in the thirties and forties, Harlan residents earned quite the reputation for being quick to anger, and even quicker to draw a gun and shoot.
If a person paid attention to small-town babble, a dark cloud loomed high above Harlan. Natives continued to pay for the crimes of the past. Unfortunately, in Harlan, the innocent caught the brunt of bygone times. The sins of the fathers were bestowed upon the children.
Locals believed Harlan’s ghosts damned the once-corrupt area. There was nowhere to hide or run from the ancestors who tainted those mountains with their former unscrupulous behavior.
Colt Manning thought the county was surrounded by too much natural beauty for outright condemnation. He decided to visit the region right after Thanksgiving. He wanted to ride in an ATV parade called The Jingle Bell Ride. With the promise of great fishing on Martins Fork Lake, Kentucky called to him in a way he couldn’t ignore.
Colt invited his buddy, Brant Levy, to join him on a road trip. They anticipated a restful weekend and a good time enjoying one of the best ATV adventures a man would ever find.
In the early morning hours, they packed up Brant’s Ford truck with camping supplies, loaded up two brand-new four-wheelers, and off they went. They were Kentucky-bound before daybreak, and left behind plenty of farm work certain to be there when they returned.
The men made the drive from Morristown, Tennessee. Somewhere along the way, Colt began to think something substantial awaited them in the Bluegrass State, maybe even something life-changing.
By the time he spotted the remarkable ridges of the Pine and Black Mountains, with their peaks painted white from a recent light snow, Colt had a true uneasy feeling. This vacation wasn’t just another road trip.
Five minutes after he arrived at his destination, Colt met a little girl who would soon change their lives. His future was left forever changed from the moment they were first introduced.
PART I
Chapter One
“What’s your name?” she asked in a small voice. Dirt dotted her forehead and cheeks, neither of which seemed to bother her. “My name is Princess.”
“Is that right?” Colt asked, squatting next to her. She looked more like a mud-soaked orphan than a child destined for a jewel-encrusted crown. He’d easily spotted her in the large crowd. Apparently, the folks around there either shunned her because she was a filthy child of meager means or they left her in the clearing on purpose, perhaps to showcase the hopelessness experienced by the locals.
Carnival-style tents and vendors cluttered a designated area rich with tall trees and plenty of dead shrubs. The grounds buzzed with endless commotion. Princess seemed lost, only she didn’t appear bothered by the fact.
“Yes, just like Cinderella,” the little girl replied, giggling. “Will you be my prince?”
Brant reached inside the front pocket of his denim jeans and pulled out a few one dollar bills. “Here, kid. Scram.”
The bright light in the little girl’s blue eyes dimmed. She stared at several crisp ones crumpled in Brant’s hand. Addressing Colt once more, she said, “You’ll need to drink tea
in the queen’s court before I can accept your friend’s money.”
Brant grumbled. “We have a lot to do, Colt. Participants are required to register for the ride.”
Colt ignored him and focused on the child. “And where might we find the queen’s court?”
“Over there.” She pointed. “I have a table set up with the best silver in the land,” she said, waving her arm extravagantly toward what looked like an empty box. “It’s right under the big oak tree. Don’t you see it?”
“All I see is a big piece of cardboard and a couple of crates,” Brant replied.
“Be a sport,” Colt told Brant, straightening his back and reaching for the child’s tiny hand. “Tell you what, if you’ll let us join you for tea and tell us a little bit about Harlan, we’ll pay you for the information you provide. You can be our travel consultant.”
Her eyes twinkled from under the dirty blonde locks. Her hair resembled loose strands of yellowish-brown straw rather than well-maintained bangs. “I don’t know what that word means, but okay. I sure could use the money, sir.”
The little one skipped ahead of them and Brant said, “You can’t go making friends with these kids, Colt. Times are tough and out here, folks face desperate days. Adults in these parts have been known to use their children in order to find ways to put food on the table.”
A lump moved down Colt’s throat. He and Brant had been friends for a long time. They’d gone to the same schools, lived on neighboring farms. He’d always thought of Brant as a good guy. Typically lighthearted, Brant wasn’t the kind of man to give a child a cold shoulder. What had gotten into him?
After they followed the little girl through the growing crowd, Colt located the tea party. Old newspaper had been used for cut-out placemats and dinnerware. In the middle of a large box, an arrangement of weeds, wild flowers, and hay provided the illusion of a centerpiece.
“Have a seat,” she instructed, turning to Brant and adding, “You’ll find a better view of the party from over here.”
Another grumble followed a grunt. “Colt, we don’t have all day.”
The child was unaffected. “Colt is your name?”
“Yes.”
“I like that name. I asked you for it when we first met,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You didn’t answer me. Is it because you don’t like your name?”
“No, I was too interested in finding out more about you. Princess is an interesting name, too, ya know.”
She laughed aloud and then slapped her knee, cackling all the more. “You silly cowboy you, that’s not my real name.”
Brant twitched his nose, sat down, and quietly observed. He suddenly looked more intrigued.
“Why do you think I’m a cowboy?”
She pointed at his hat and then the one atop Brant’s head.
“You’re an observant little woman, aren’t ’cha?” Brant asked.
“Of course, a good princess always pays attention to folks around her.”
“I thought we were having tea with the queen,” Colt said, quite impressed by the child’s imagination and her quick wit. She would certainly go far in life with her personality.
“I am the queen.”
“You told us you’re a princess,” Colt reminded her.