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Back The Ursulina Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. I know you'll never forgive me...
  2. Part One - Your Father
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Part Two - Your Mother
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-One
  45. About the Author

It was 1969. The world was going crazy in other places, but in Black Wolf County, life went on without any real unrest. A couple of local boys died in Vietnam, and we mourned them and then went back to work. We had no choice. To this day, the joke in Black Wolf County is that we call it that because the wolf is never far from our door. Jobs have always been few and far between here. We’re remote, a county of dirt roads and dense trees, where close neighbors are measured in miles. Back then, tourists hadn’t really discovered us, other than a couple of lakeside resorts, so life and work revolved around the local bar, the high school, and the church.

And the copper mine.

Our lives rose and fell with the fortunes of the copper mine.

We didn’t have much, but one thing we had a lot of was land. Land was cheap and vast. To a ten-year-old on that camping trip, the whole forest felt as if it belonged to the three of us. I don’t recall seeing another soul while we were away. Of course, that didn’t mean we were the only creatures to be found there. The wilderness teemed with raccoons, deer, wolves, bears, moose, and cougars. We’d find their tracks and scat wherever we went, and even when we didn’t see them, we knew they were out there watching us.

That was why, when I left our tent in the middle of the night, I took my father’s gun with me for protection. I’d been shooting for years. If you live here, you know how to shoot. It’s not optional.

Our tent was pitched near the shore of a large lake shaped like a sunflower, with inlets sprouting from its round center like petals. I stood by the water for a while, scratching the mosquito bites on my arms and legs. The moon was full, making the night bright. I could see very clearly the quiet dark water and the silhouettes of fir trees crowding the fringe of the lake. Somewhere close to me, an owl hooted. I scanned the night sky to find him, but he was hidden in the trees. I’ve always felt a special connection to owls. Looking back, I wonder if the owl was giving me a warning about what was waiting for me in the woods. But I didn’t listen. I just headed into the forest so I could do my business far from the campsite.