By the time he turned thirty, Stan had spent a decade serving in conflict zones, endured two serious injuries, yet fate had always spared him. After his second wound left him recovering in a military hospital for months, he returned to his quiet village in the English countryside.
The place had changedso had the people. His old schoolmates had all settled down, married. Then he saw Lizzie. When hed left for service, shed been a girl of thirteen. Now, at twenty-five, she was stunningstill unmarried, waiting for the right man, not just anyone.
Stan, broad-shouldered and steady, with a soldiers unshakable sense of right and wrong, couldnt walk past her.
You waiting for me, then? he teased, grinning. Still not married?
Maybe, she murmured, flushing. Her heart fluttered.
From then on, they were inseparable. Late autumn leaves crunched underfoot as they wandered the woods near the village.
Stan, my father wont allow it, Lizzie said softly. Hed proposed twice already. You know what hes like.
Whats he going to do to me? Stan scoffed. Break my legs? Hed land in prison, and wed be free.
You dont understand, she protested. Hes cruel. He *owns* this village.
William Hartley was the most feared man for miles. Once just a farmer, now rumours swirled about his darker dealingsa man with cold eyes, a gut from too much ale, and a temper that left bruises. Hed built two thriving farms, employed half the village, and ruled like a king.
He wants me to marry his mates son, Lizzie whispered. That useless drunk, Eddie. Ive told him *no* a hundred times.
This isnt the bloody Middle Ages, Stan snapped. No one forces a woman to marry.
But he loved herher fire, her gentleness, everything. And she couldnt imagine life without him.
Come on, he said suddenly gripping her hand.
Where? But she already knew.
William was in the yard of his sprawling estate, barking orders at his younger brother, Simon.
Mr. Hartley, Stan said firmly. I want to marry Lizzie. Im asking for her hand.
Lizzies mother stood frozen on the porch, hand clamped over her mouth.
Williams face darkened. Get off my land, he snarled. You think youre good enough for *my* daughter? Never.
Well marry anyway, Stan shot back.
The silence was thick. The whole village respected Stan, but William only saw money and power. Hed never known war, never fought for anything but his own greed.
Fists clenched. Simon stepped between them before blows flew.
As Simon shoved Stan out, William dragged Lizzie inside like a child. That night, Stans newly opened mechanics garage burned to the ground.
Bastard, Stan muttered, watching the flames. No doubt whose work this was.
The next night, he crept to Lizzies window. Shed agreedtheyd run. She tossed down a bag, then climbed into his arms.
By dawn, well be far away, he whispered as she trembled against him.
Ten minutes down the road, headlights surged behind them. A black Mercedes roared past, swerving to block their path.
No Lizzie gasped.
William wrenched her out. Stan lunged, but a fist smashed into his jaw. They beat him silent, left him crumpled on the roadside.
For a week, he barely moved. The garage fire? Faulty wiring, the report said. No calls from Lizzie. Her number was dead.
William had shipped her off to his sister in London, left her with cash and a warning:
Keep her inside. No phone. If she comes back, Ill bury that boy in the woodsyou know I can.
Aunt Margaret sighed. Youre a fool, William.
Lizzie wept in her room. Shed find work, start overwithout Stan.
Then she realised. She was pregnant.
Father cant know, Margaret whispered.
But Lizzie didnt care about him. She *hated* him. Hes not a manhes a monster!
Months passed. Stan worked, drank, stopped drinking. Nothing mattered. Meanwhile, Lizzie gave birtha boy, Matthew. His fathers face in miniature.
Four years later, spring warmed the village. Lizzies mother arrived at Margarets, pale.
Williams dying. Cancer.
No one mourned. He died in June. Few came to the funeral.
Got what he deserved, folks muttered.
Stan was away, working rigs up north. Then Lizzie returned home. Her mother had bloomed without Williams shadow.
Two weeks later, Lizzie walked the woods with Matthew. He chased butterflies as she sat on a fallen log.
Then
Lizzie.
She spun. Stan stood there, older, harder. They crashed into each other.
Im sorry, she choked. I never married Eddie. I lived with Aunt Margaret. Andyou have a son.
Matthew barrelled over. Stan lifted him high, laughing.
Dad! the boy crowed. Buy me a football?
Stans eyes shone. Right now, lad. Anything you want. He looked at Lizzie. Were not losing each other again.
She smiled through tears. Fate had brought them backand fate rewards those who are grateful.
