Stolen Hearts
This winter in the Yorkshire countryside has been merciless: temperatures plunging below freezing, the icy grip tightening each night as if nature itself were testing human endurance.
“John, wrap up warm! Wear that wool jumper I knitted for you,” Catherine urged her husband as she saw him off to work.
Despite the bitter cold, farm chores couldn’t wait. The cows, hungry and impatient, needed tending. Though John was nearing retirement, he carried on as usual. Catherine stayed behind, expecting their daughter and grandson—but the girl called in from the city:
“Mum, we won’t risk the trip until the cold eases. We’ll come next weekend.”
“Good choice, love. What if the bus broke down in this weather? Take care of yourself and the little one,” Catherine replied, hiding her worry.
Hanging up, she paused, lost in memories. Her mind drifted back nearly fifty years, to another freezing winter when she—young Kate—had ventured into the countryside with her friend Victoria to visit Victoria’s grandmother. Back then, the frost had bitten just as hard, but youth had made them bold.
“Katie, come with me to Gran’s!” Victoria had insisted. “It’s winter break, and I’ll be bored alone. You’ll see our village—though we’ll have to travel a bit farther, but we’ll manage!”
Both were sixteen. Kate convinced her mother and packed for the trip. Bundled in warm clothes, spirits high, the cold barely touched them. The bus took them as far as the next town before the driver refused to go further.
“That’s it, we’re stuck!” he grumbled. “Road’s buried, tractor couldn’t clear it. I won’t risk it!”
Kate and Victoria, along with the other passengers, stepped into the icy air.
“Katie, it’s another seven miles to the village,” Victoria sighed. “We can’t walk in this. Let’s stay with Aunt Lucy—Mum’s sister. We’ll sort it out in the morning.”
And so they did. Aunt Lucy fed them hot soup and honeyed tea before tucking them into a small bedroom. The next morning, their neighbour, Mr. Thompson, agreed to take them by horse and sleigh. Aunt Lucy had arranged it the night before.
“Ted, give the girls a lift. They need to get to their gran’s.”
“Of course!” he replied warmly. “We’ll go briskly!”
Kate and Victoria clambered into the sleigh.
“Tuck in tight under that coat, girls—you’ll freeze otherwise!” Ted tucked the heavy fur around them and urged the horse forward.
The sleigh glided over the snow-clad road. Beyond the town stretched a pine forest, then open moorland, blanketed white. The path was rough in places, but the horse pressed on steadily.
“Mr. Thompson, how old are you?” Victoria asked, breaking the quiet.
“Pushing seventy-five,” he chuckled. “But I’m still spry! In summer, I tend the sheep—been a shepherd all my life. The moors are a sight then, all in bloom. You ought to visit!”
**A Tale Well Told**
Ted Thompson was beloved in the village—kind, open-hearted, with a gift for spinning stories that made the cold and distance fade. They chatted idly until, squinting ahead, he said:
“This road—it’s where I brought my Annie home. Fifty years ago, near enough. Stole her away, you might say…”
“Stole her?” Victoria gasped. “Tell us, Mr. Thompson!”
“That’s Mrs. Anne who saw us off?” Kate added.
“The very same, my Annie,” he nodded, eyes alight. “Back then, she was just a lass, bright as you two.”
They fell silent, eager for the tale.
“Long time ago,” Ted began. “I’d ridden to that village I’m taking you to. Father sent me on business to my uncle Matthew. I was twenty-five, unwed, searching for a lass who’d set my heart afire—hadn’t found one in our parish.”
At Uncle Matthew’s, he met his cousin Thomas, same age as Ted.
“Teddy, old chap!” Thomas greeted him. “Father’s in the stables—join us at the dance tonight. The girls here are lovely!”
Music filled the village hall that evening. Girls tugged Ted into the dance, but his gaze snagged on one—just arrived. Petite, with a long flaxen braid, cheeks flushed from the cold, she unwound her scarf with delicate fingers.
“Thomas, who’s that?” Ted asked, unable to look away.
“Anne, old Gregory’s daughter. Sweet girl, but her father’s a brute. Best steer clear,” Thomas warned.
Ted didn’t hesitate. They danced all night, laughing like old friends. Later, Thomas walked them home but left them at her gate.
From then on, Ted rode to the village often. Anne filled his thoughts. But when he spoke of marriage one evening, tears welled in her eyes.
“Father won’t let me leave. Says I’m too young, that a local lad’s already spoken for me. He’s forbidden me to see you.”
“No, Annie. You’re mine,” Ted swore. “Wait for me. I’ll come for you.”
**A Midnight Flight**
Ted fell quiet, staring across the snowy moor as if reliving it. Victoria nudged him.
“What happened next?”
“Denied,” he sighed. “Her father barred the door. Said she’d marry local. But I knew—she loved me. Life without her wasn’t life.”
Ted returned to Thomas, who passed Anne a message: three nights hence, he’d come. Under cover of darkness, she slipped from home with a small bundle, trembling as she climbed into his sleigh.
“I’m afraid he’ll follow,” she whispered.
Ted urged the horse on, but hoofbeats pounded behind. Pursuit. He could’ve outrun them, wed Anne in his own parish. But fleeing felt cowardly.
“Annie, I won’t give you up,” he said, halting the sleigh. “But running from your father—that’s no way to start.”
Gregory, purple with fury, reared up, lashing Ted with a crop. Ted stood firm, meeting his glare. The man seized his coat, roaring threats.
“Come near my girl again, I’ll kill you!”
“Kill me if you must, sir, but I love her. Neither of us will live happy apart,” Ted said steadily.
Perhaps his words struck true, or Gregory thought of his daughter’s joy—but he relented.
“Your mother’s ill, girl—hysterics knowing you’d bolted. Turn this rig around. We’ll settle it proper.”
Ted trusted him. Harsh as Gregory was, he kept his word.
“They blessed us,” Ted finished, smiling. “Later, I courted her proper, a fine wedding after. Fifty years together now, girls.”
“What a tale!” Kate breathed. “Like something from the pictures!”
Years had passed, but Catherine still remembered that ride, Ted’s story of stolen hearts and courage. Back then, he’d seemed old to her young eyes—now she knew better. True love endured, untouched by time.
**Stolen Hearts**
27 May
8509
7 minShe glanced out the window at the falling snow, knowing some hearts were never truly stolen—just freely given, forever.
