Free The Tree Shepherd's Daughter by Gillian Summers

Keelie matched his frown.
    Scott laughed. "Is that why you're dressed like that?
I thought Tarl had pitched that outfit after Daisy complained last year."
    "Scott, why don't you show Keelie where to eat cheap?
I'll her you can show her how to make that ten dollars last
a week."
    Keelie was mortified. Oh great, she'd be strolling
around with fiber-dweeb and people would think they
were a couple. Captain Randy, for one. And if Scott saw
Captain Randy and her together, he'd no doubt tell Zeke
all about it.
    "I can't go, Zeke. I have to finish this piece for Mr.
Humphrey. He's picking it up on Friday." Scott didn't seem
any happier about it.

    Zeke clapped a hand on Scott's back. "Don't worry. I'll
take care of everything. The Faire's just opened, so this is
a good time for Keelie to see the sights before the crowds
get in the way."
    Ignoring Keelie's outraged stare, he waved Scott toward
her. "On Sundays things don't get busy until after one in
the afternoon. You can stay out until then."
    They set off down the path, each clinging to the opposite side of the path. Scott glanced at her and snorted.
    "What?" She couldn't see anything amusing.
    "So, now that you have the garb, are you going to join
the Muck and Mire Show?"
    The skirt. Keelie hated the hideous Muck and Mire
Show costume more than ever. It was a symbol, and it was
the wrong one. Her Baywood Academy uniform had been
the symbol that informed the world that she was somebody. Only the brightest and best connected got into
Baywood. The blue and black of the Baywood uniform
showed everyone that she was smart and her mother was
important. Here she was a goofy-looking misfit.
    "Are you laughing at me?" Keelie stopped in the middle of the path, hands on her hips. Scott's eyes widened,
and he tried to stop, but laughter just bubbled out of him,
the vermin.
    "Don't you want me to?" He wiped his eyes. "You're
dressed in that outrageous outfit. Like a clown." He hiccupped.
    "Look at you. You've been here far longer than me, and
you're wearing something that belongs to a giant. At least
you have a choice."

    She didn't have a choice in anything. Where to live,
what to wear. Who to walk down the stupid path with. His
laughter was suddenly too much.
    She turned and ran. Racing down the hill, she veered
right, speeding past a colorful barge tied at the lakeshore,
full of fancy-costumed people. She ran past tradesmen setting up shop and artists opening their studios.
    She heard Scott follow her for a while, but then she
couldn't hear him anymore. Not that she'd turned to look.
He'd never catch her looking to see if he was there. She
wanted to be alone, to get away. From Scott. From her
father. From this whole freakish wonderland.
    The air felt good on her face, and her muscles stretched
and sang as she lengthened her stride. She loved to run, and
the proof, her cross-country racing ribbons, were in the
missing suitcase. People looked up as she passed, but no one
tried to stop her. She hadn't run for weeks. It felt great.
    After a long time, she circled back to the Heartwood
clearing. From the path's edge she watched her father and
Scott unload lumber. Back to business. No one was concerned about her. She wondered what Scott had told her
father about his early return. She could bet that it wasn't
the truth.
    Her stomach growled. She could use a muffin and a
tall latte. She pulled the map of the Ren Faire site from the
pouch slung around her waist and examined it. She was
tempted to cut through the woods, but she'd been warned
to stay on the path.
    She started down Water Sprite Lane, hurrying over
the bridge she'd passed last night. No voices today. The meadow was full of trees, just as Raven had described. She
shut their voices out of her mind and ran.

    The teashop was a ramshackle building, half-timbered
and leaning. It seemed to be held together by ivy, which
grew, dark green and lush, all up and down the sides.
There wasn't a rose