Free Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale by Caroline Lee Page B

every evening thinking about the tall, handsome Russian man.
    Zelle groaned and rolled over, pulling her braid out from under her rear end and throwing her forearm across her face.
    Now that Dmitri knew that Papa couldn’t help him, he’d surely be going back East. That’s what he’d said to Max. So it wasn’t like she had a chance at a future with him, anyhow. It was just that meeting him had shown her that maybe marriage was a viable option when it came to finding ways to get out from under her well-meaning parents’ well-meaning control. Maybe marriage—if it was to the right man—could be an adventure greater than she’d ever imagined?
    Maybe that was her answer.
    She had to chuckle at herself. A few days ago, she’d been convinced that to kiss Merrell Gruff would be the greatest adventure, and now look at her! She was considering finding a boy to marry.
    It was that thought—marriage—that had her pacing the rest of the afternoon. Her mother came upstairs before dinner with a tray, and mentioned that both she and Papa had been called by patients. Mrs. Muffit had finally begun to labor, and Mr. B.G. Foote at the livery needed something for his gout immediately, so they didn’t know how long they’d be gone.
    Mother didn’t seem surprised to see Zelle curled up in the window seat with her herb journal and calendar, plotting out next season’s plantings. She was smart enough to know that a strong young lady wasn’t going to languish in bed all day just because she’d been saved from a runaway horse by a brave hero-prince. But Mother did place the tray on the desk, and come over to squeeze beside Zelle. When she put her arms around Zelle’s shoulders, the girl leaned into her embrace.
    After a long moment, Mother kissed the back of her head. “I remember when I first realized how fast your hair grew. I couldn’t believe it. You were helping me make biscuits the first time I braided it.” Zelle’s parents had never made any secret of the fact that Mother hadn’t actually given birth to her, but they’d long ago told her that they didn’t want to discuss their pasts. So Papa’s first wife remained a mystery, but Zelle didn’t care. Mother was her mother in every way that counted.
    “All I can remember is screaming when you used to plait it.”
    A little chuckle. “It certainly was a blessing, once you got old enough to brush your own hair.” She stroked Zelle’s long braid. “And soon it’ll be time to cut it again.” Her mother cut her hair every year on her birthday, the first of August. Chop it off at her shoulders, send the braid off to a wig-maker, and it would be near her rear again by the following year.
    But Zelle was realizing that she’d go batty if she had to live here, with their loving, over-protective ways, another year. “I think that next year, I’ll cut it myself.”
    Mother seemed to understand. She always did. “So this is my last year cutting my little princess’s hair?” She sighed, and then pulled Zelle closer. The girl didn’t mind, and rested her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I’ve been dreading that day, honeybear, but knew it would come.”
    Her mother’s old nickname for her made Zelle smile. “I have to grow up sometime, Mother.”
    “I know. We know. Your father and I… We’ve spent so many years worrying about you.” But why did they seem to worry more about her than other parents worried about their children? “The worry, that concern, is such a big part of our lives, that it seems… odd to think of you as all grown up.” Mother sighed, and it reminded Zelle of all the childhood evenings she’d spent curled up on her mother’s lap, listening to her heartbeat. “I suppose soon you’ll be thinking about getting married and starting a family like all the other girls your age.”
    How to explain that she hadn’t even considered that route as an option, until just a few days ago? Zelle couldn’t and, after being banished to her room