Lucky paced the inside of the tiny cell inside the village’s jail. Three steps. That was all it took to go from the iron-barred window, facing the back side of the brick courthouse to the iron-barred door. There was no bed, only a pile of straw and blankets in the corner of the room that he wouldn’t lay his head on if his life depended on it. The earthen floor muffled the sound of his steps as the nearly full moon through the fog-shrouded night cast an eerie blue light outside the bars.
The entire jail had the noxious odor of damp, moldy straw and wet dirt. He was thankful that Mary’s attorney and priest had the forethought to move her from here before their daughter was born. The smell alone was enough to make him ill. Then he remembered Mary saying she’d had spent several days here befo
