Chad’s phone rang.  The chief, Judith, and Joe watched amused as his face lit up at the sight of the number on the screen.  Oblivious to the show he provided for an amused station, Chad answered cheerfully.  “Hey.  What’cha doing today?”

A whisper that sounded like, “Wharf do away?” was Willow’s reply.

“Wharf what?”  The muffled sounds of slick fabric and then a zipper zipping wrinkled his brow and he protested.  “What is this?”

Another whisper came.  “What are you doing today?”

Though barely audible, this one, Chad understood.  “I’m working.  Just heading out in a minute.”

“Car or on foot?”  Her voice was almost completely muffled by something.

“What are you doing?”

“I need you to help me get a deer home.”

“I’m working, Willow!  I can’t just-”

Her impatient voice interrupted.  “Isn’t it against some law to shoot a deer and leave it?”

“Well yeah but”

Four hands went instinctively to their holsters as a clearly audible gunshot rang out.  “Got him,” Willow gloated in a normal tone of voice.  “Either come help me with this deer or I’ll report me and you’ll have to come out and arrest me.”

“Willow!  I can’t go driving out there-”

The Chief waved him to the door, “Go help her.”

“But I’m on duty!”

“Well, this is your duty.  Now get out there but no flirting- get the job done and get back on the road.  It’s a tough job but somebody has to help the damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress my foot,” Chad muttered as he glared at the phone and then back up at Joe.  “Why can’t Joe do it?”

Joe pushed the station door open.  “Because I’ve got the beat today- which, I might add, you were gloating about just a few minutes ago.”

He knew when he was beaten.  “Fine!”

The Chief waited until Chad swung the door open irritably and then said, “That’s, ‘Fine sir!’ to you boy.’”

The five miles from the station to Willow’s house took half the time it should have.  As he drove, Chad realized that she’d been hunting, and called as she was ready to pull the trigger to make sure he was around to help her move the deer.  “Of all the irritating things-”

He stared at the barn.  Of course she wasn’t home.  She’d called from hunting.  Where would Willow- Chad flipped open his phone and punched her number.  The phone rang and slipped to voice mail.  “Willow, I’m at your barn but I don’t know where to find you.”  He paused.  Years of TV shows came back to tempt him and he decided to do a little mental tormenting.  “I need a twenty on your location.”

He snapped the phone shut and went looking for her garden cart.  He’d wheel it to her and they could- The cart was gone.  “Well, let’s see you stew a bit over that one anyway.”

Saige dropped a knotted rope at his feet and jumped excitedly as Chad picked it up and threw it.  For five minutes, Chad threw, Saige retrieved, and the angst that had tried to take root in Chad’s heart slowly melted.  The morning was brisk, the breeze stiff, and the scent of autumn surrounded him.

After another glance at his phone, Chad stepped into the kitchen.  He’d make a cup of coffee while he waited.  The sight of the kitchen table stopped him short.  He wasn’t accustomed to anything out of place in Willow’s home.  She wasn’t persnickety about things but a lifetime of putting things away instead of just ‘down’ tends to keep your living space tidy.

The table was a mess.  A glass and oak framed display case lay open on the large table.  She’d added a leaf or two and spread her things all over the table.  A family of tiny dolls was lined up along the edge of the table near the windowsill.  Ticking fabric and florist foam brick with indentations of every doll lay in a heap beside the glass case.  Her fly-tying vice sat nearby with a few flies lying in and near the case.

Instantly, he knew what he was doing.  He stepped back outside, ignoring the stoves that probably needed attention, and sat on the porch step.  Saige looked up at him and Chad felt reproached. “Well, how was I supposed to know?  Who told her my birthday was coming anyway?”

He jumped nervously as his phone rang.  “Where are you!  I’ve been waiting-”

“I got another one.  Couldn’t answer.  What’s a twenty?”

Chad chuckled.  He’d already forgotten his attempt at pay-back.  “It’s just something you hear a lot in TV shows.  It means I can’t see you so where are you?”

“How would I ever have gotten that?  I was wondering what you thought I should do with twenty deer!  Walk down past the chicken coop to the fence.  Follow it straight across the creek and then follow the line of trees.  I’ll yell when I see you.”

“Going north?”

Silence hung over the phone for a minute.  “Um, yeah.  Sure.”

Chad started off at a brisk pace but Saige followed.  He shooed the animal back to the yard and to his amazement, the dog went, head hanging and a look of despondence on her face.  “Sorry girl, if Willow didn’t take you, I’m not going to.”

As Chad walked along the trees after an awkward trip across a few logs tied together and tethered to the fence, he made his way along the tree line looking and listening for Willow. “Hey Chad!”

Just inside the trees, Chad found Willow removing the entrails of a second deer.  “What are you going to do with two deer?”

“Give them to the Mr. McFarland.  He gives us the loins and he keeps the rest.”

“The butcher?”  Chad didn’t like the sound of this.  The arrangements they had with the butcher seemed to be much more advantageous to Clyde McFarland than could possibly be equitable.  “That seems like an awfully nice deal for him.”

“It’s better now.  We used to cut off the loins ourselves and mother would walk to town and call him to come take away the rest but he finally convinced mother to let him do the work.”

“What does he do with the extra meat?  Does he pay you for it?”

Her head whipped up as she retorted indignantly, “Of course not!  He does us the favor of butchering our deer for us and we expect payment?”

“He keeps most of the deer!”

“No,” she answered with studied patience, “We give him most of the deer.  Without him, we’d have to both butcher the whole thing ourselves and get a few more dogs to eat it all, or we’d have to allow people to come hunt on our land.  The deer get thick in there some years.”

Sudden understanding dawned.  This was another one of what he’d dubbed as “Willowisms.”  Along with why saving time is so important and why buy what you can make, why charge for what you can give away seemed to be at the top of the chain.

“Let’s load them up then.”

“We can only take one at a time.”

Chad bit his lip.  He bit it from the trees, across the stream, over the fields, and to the tree near the chicken coop.  Here, Willow strung the deer up by his feet without much help from Chad.

“You know, you could have just strung him up in one of the trees out there, pushed the cart under him, and lowered him into it…”

“But-” A sheepish look filled her face.  “I never thought of that.  All those years I walked back to get mother’s help and neither of us thought of that.  It would have save do much time, which of course, is a precious commodity isn’t it?” she teased.  “I’ll remember that next time though.  That’ll save you a trip.”

Chad felt terrible.  He hadn’t intended to make her feel like a burden.  “Hey,” his voice was low and troubled.  “Willow, I didn’t mean it like that- I just know how much you like to do things for yourself and it amused me that you hadn’t thought of that.”

The blank look she gave him was unnerving.  “What?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad-”

“I don’t feel bad.  I asked for help like you’re always insisting that I do.  You gave me a better way to do it in the future.  What’s the problem?”

“Nothing.  Let’s go get the other deer.”

Once back with the second deer, Willow pointed absently to the kitchen.  “I need a drink of water, would you mind?”

Chad nodded trying to fabricate a way to warn her that he shouldn’t go into her house as he walked away from the ‘hanging tree’ as she’d called it.  “Hey!”

He whirled around and nearly knocked her over.  “What?”

“I need the tarps in the barn.  They’re up in the loft over the kitchen.  I’ll wash my hands, get me water, and call.  You’ve been gone long enough-”

She glanced at his uniform.  “And you have blood on your pants.  I’m really sorry.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I’m not upset Willow.  It’s fine.  Don’t get all nervous about calling when you need something now-”

“‘I wasn’t nervous.  Maybe I was a little ‘concerned’ but that’s not the same thing.’”

His laughter echoed through the yard as he jogged to the barn for the tarps.  Chad met Willow at her back door, handed her several, and whispered as she waited for the butcher to answer the phone, “‘Good afternoon, Willow. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’”

“Very funny.”

“Just a little punny.”

Her eye cocked at him as she left a message for Clyde.  “‘No more rhymes now, I mean it.’”

“‘Anybody want a peanut?’”

***

Chad found himself on the beat after all.  A call from Alexa’s brother sent them from town and he drew the short straw.  Six o’clock would never come.  He was tired, cold, hungry, and all he could think of was the chili he’d heard Willow mention.  After confiscating Aiden Cox’s skateboard, again, he trudged to the station dialing Willow’s number as he went.

“Hey, did I hear you mention chili?”

“Yep, you coming?”

Chad passed Confections and grinned.  “I’ll bring cheesecake.”

“I’ll wait for you.  What time do you get off?  You can name the new goat too.”

As she clicked the phone shut, Willow groaned.  “What on earth could cheesecake taste like?  That just sounds disgusting!  Maybe it’s Swiss cheese…”

She glanced at the table realizing she’d have to clear it off before he came.  The clock chimed four-thirty.  She still had time to finish screwing in the cup hooks before she put it all away.  He wouldn’t think anything of her tying flies so she’d leave out the vice and work on it while they talked.  Maybe he could help her plan a larger garden and a site for a greenhouse.  She’d grow container lettuce all through winter.  Just the thought of it made her mouth water.

With an air of industry, she scooped up her dollhouse family and wrapped them in a kitchen towel.  Shivering in the attic, she slipped them under the plastic over the dollhouse and hurried back downstairs.  A glance at the fabric showed definite fading spots.  She poked at it and found it too weak to be worth saving so she tossed it into the stove.  A second glance at the foam sent her outside to the incinerator.  She wasn’t willing to risk toxic fumes to save a few shivers.

With a small smile of satisfaction, Willow hung the flies from the hooks to see how they’d look.  Ten flies to go.  It was a large display case but it was worth it.  Chad would be both pleased and surprised.  She ran a finger along the smooth oak of the case.  Doubts crept into her heart.  Mother had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday.  Could she give it away without regret?

Chad’s empty bland apartment filled her mind.  She knew he’d never made it a home because he’d never planned to stay but recent conversations sounded more prone to staying in Fairbury and if he did, he’d need a homier feeling apartment.  The case would be practical and beautiful.  He’d appreciate that and she wanted to give him something that truly was hers- a gift that cost her something.

Mother’s box, the completed ties, and the box she’d created from another box was squirreled away in the craft room under a pile of fabric.  She left the tie vise on the table and checked the clock.  There was time to finish the fly she’d been making before hunting.  Midway through a second tie, she glanced at the clock.  He’d be leaving soon!

Cornbread.  Time to make cornbread.  Like a whirlwind, she whipped an apron over her head tying it on as she hurried to grab a mixing bowl and shivered into the pantry for cornmeal and flour.  Chad entered the kitchen just as she slipped her cast iron frying pan into the oven.

“Ok, this is incredibly domestic.  I feel like I should call out, ‘Hi honey, I’m home!’”

“Why?”  Willow’s face was a study in incomprehension.

“Well, um- nevermind.  Milked the new goat yet?”

“Yes,” she answered absently as she checked the coals in the stove and added a stick.  “But you could go see if you have a name for her.”

Chad glanced at the table.  “Been tying flies again?”

“A few.  What do you think?”

Her nonchalance almost convinced him that he’d seen nothing amiss earlier.  “I like it.  Those wings are amazing.”

Without another word, and before she could say anything to trip him, Chad hustled back out into the yard and over to the goat pen.  A sweet faced doe blinked at him with wide eyes as he hung over the pen gate.  Her coloring was similar to a dun and white paint pony and made him think of Apache braves chasing antelope or other game on their ponies.

“You look like a painted lady to me but I don’t think Willow will go for Brothelette.  Maybe Gomer.”

The yard was ready for winter.  The garden covered with mulch and a new area roped off for a new patch the next year.  The chicken coop had been rotated for reasons that Chad didn’t understand.  The mulch pile was covered and another square roped off- for what he didn’t know.  A sliding door into the barn left room for the goat to come in out of the cold and, to his surprise, the clothesline had no ropes.

Out of curiosity, he peeked around the front of the house and saw the porch swing down.  The front porch looked awkward without the friendly swing swaying in the breeze.  All the flowerbeds were heavily mulched and ready for the first snow.  The sheer magnitude of work overwhelmed him.  He wondered how people thought that housewives managed to lie around all day eating bonbons and watching soap operas.  One look at Willow’s work list and he wanted a nap.

“Chad!  Dinner’s ready.”

“Coming!”  His response was as natural as her call.  Had he noticed the interchange, it would have unsettled him but life around the Finley Farm was as natural as breathing now.  What would have horrified him the previous fall was as comfortable as his favorite jeans.

“Hey, you’ve got the place all buttoned down for winter.  Where’d you put the swing?”

“It’s in the barn hanging from the center beam.  Butter?”

As they ate, Chad told her about his day, about how Wayne had officially pulled in the daisy-barrow that day, and how he’d missed the attempted robbery of the convenience store.  “I couldn’t believe it when Joe told me.  They got a call from the pay phone.  The guy said, ‘Do not call the police. This is a hold-up.  Put all the cash in the drawer in a bag and bring it out to pump seven, put it on the ground, and go straight back into the building.’”

“Really?  Why would they do that?  What is the inducement?”

“Well that’s just the thing,” Chad explained.  “There is nothing.  By time he was done talking, Joe was in his car, and by the time he guy brought a bag full of trash and set it outside the pump, Joe had a gun on the guy.”

Shaking her head, she passed Chad the cornbread basket.  “More?”

“Save room for cheesecake.”

Her eyebrow rose.  “Just what is in cheesecake other than, I assume, cheese?”

“You’ve never had cheesecake?”

“Umm obviously not…”

Chad shoved back his chair and like a little boy at Christmas, motioned for her to stay. “I’ll be right back.  Right back.  This is going to be so great.”

She sighed.  Something about this seemed fishy.  Maybe it was like caviar or escargot.  Maybe it was raw yak curds or something equally disgusting.  Surely someone like Chad wouldn’t be adventuresome like that.  It sounded more like a Bill kind of food.

The back door burst open and Chad whipped it shut with his foot as he entered.  “You just sit there. I’ll cut it.  I can’t believe you’ve never had cheesecake.  It’s like the prince of desserts!”

The piece of cake he placed in front of her looked like a pie.  It had a crust like a pie, was thin like a pie, and unlike most cakes, had no frosting or icing.  She grabbed her fork and took a bite.  Putting it off wasn’t going to do her any good.  She would either take a bite or she wouldn’t and since he bought it for her, there was no way she wouldn’t.

Chad’s face nearly exploded in anticipation.  “Well?”

“That is delicious.  What kind of cheese is it?”

“Cream cheese.”

“I’ve never heard of that kind.  Mother brought home cheddar sometimes- and Swiss, but she never mentioned cream cheese.  I wonder if I could make it?”

Chad shrugged and took a bite of his slice of cake.  “No idea, but isn’t it good?”

Willow nodded but she no longer noticed the flavor, texture, or even the existence of her cake.  Her thoughts were delightfully engaged in the realization that Chad didn’t suggest that she just buy the cheese.  Chad accepted, at first suggestion, the idea that making cream cheese was something she might like to do.