The swing hung from sturdy ropes tied to a branch and strung through a well-sanded board.  An old garden hose protected the tree from the cutting motion of the ropes as the swing flew higher and higher.  The little girl’s braids flopped backward and then forward again as she swayed with the swing.

“Look at the cloud Mother!  It looks like a face!  See the eyes and the straight line?  The face is angry!”

The woman shielded her eyes with her hand as she tried to see her daughter’s cloud face.  “Look next to it on the right.  That looks like a penguin.”

“What makes clouds Mother?” the little girl queried as she jumped from the swing and rolled onto her back in the grass.  Dandelions grew freely behind the barn.  The wind wouldn’t blow them into the front yard from this side of the barn so they’d chosen this tree for the child’s swing.

The woman explained the difference between liquid water and water vapor, evaporation, and precipitation.  She pointed out the shapes of the clouds, and in the space of a half an hour, the child had a solid understanding of cloud formation and the water cycle.  The child always learned this way- each lesson flowing naturally from a life lived deliberately.

“Mother, how do you know so much?  You always know everything!”

Blowing a dandelion into her daughter’s face, the woman chuckled.  “I don’t know half as much as I want to know but what I do know, I learned at school.”

“Why don’t I go to school then?  How will I learn anything like you?”

Seven years old and already, the child questioned.  How long would it take before “because I said so” didn’t satisfy?  “Well, I already went and learned so I could teach you.  If you went to school, who would help me with the work?  Who would I talk to?”

“Oh that would be terrible.  I thought you would come with me.”

“Did Ma Ingalls go to school with Mary and Laura?”

The little girl sat up sharply.  “No- and their ma taught them for a long time.  Why did she send them to school?  She was a teacher wasn’t she?”

After a false start eloquently begun with, “Uh,” the mother smiled.  “Well she had little Carrie and baby Grace so she probably thought they’d enjoy learning where it was quiet and diapers didn’t need changing.”

“But that’s sad.  It’s not quiet here and I learn lots of stuff.”

Unsure how to respond, the woman tickled the child’s nose with a fresh dandelion and smiled.  “I guess they just didn’t think of it.”

***

Her feet flew higher and higher into the air and then Willow flung herself from the swing just as she had so many years ago.  The puppy bounced to greet her licking her chin and scratching her lightly with his sharp claws as he scrambled over her.  She giggled and handed him a knotted piece of fabric to tug on as she lay back in the grass.

Her mother’s death and the journals she now read voraciously seemed to spark constant mental trips into the past.  She had learned so much from her mother and yet she felt like she knew so little.  Would she be prepared to teach her child some day?  Would there ever be a child for her?

Willow had always imagined herself the mother of boys living on the farm and raising horses, sheep, or possibly dogs.  It occurred to her that she’d never imagined a father for those boys.  It was as though she planned for them to arrive via stork or Santa Claus.  Today she realized that her mother’s horrible situation had also been a gift.  The thought of adoption flitted across her mind before she stood, brushed the grass from her clothes, and children from her thoughts.  There was work to do.

***

In the barn, Willow grabbed a tool belt and strapped it to her waist.  The pup bounced around her heels but she knew the animal couldn’t keep up with her and she didn’t plan to carry tools, wire, and a wriggling dog too.  Willow shut her in the barn, slung her coil of wire over one shoulder, and called to Othello.

They walked the fence line from the corner of her yard, along the driveway and turned along the highway.  Cars whizzed by and a few stared, amazed, at the sight of a woman in cut offs, a sleeveless blouse, and huge straw hat rewiring a section of fence.  She dragged a burlap bag along behind her filling it with the litter she found stuck in the wire fencing and in the ditch that ran between her fence line and the highway.

It took most of the day to walk the fence, repair it, and return to the house.  Wilhelmina greeted her with sounds of protest at the yapping of the puppy in the barn.  The thermometer told her that it was still too hot to move the chickens in for the night, so she pulled the tarp over the small section of chicken yard and knotted it securely.

Inside, the clock taunted her with the reality that she had only half an hour to shower, change, make something for dinner, and leave if she intended to make it to the Bible study at Mrs. Varney’s house.  She stood, deliberating for a moment, and then took the stairs three at a time.  This was her life and as her mother taught her well, she intended to live it to its fullest.

***

Willow listened to the banter of the ladies study group and smiled.  Women were fascinating in large groups.  They talked about several subjects at once, finished each other’s sentences, and often left a sentence mid thought and raced to another one.  She’s never seen anything like the rabbit trails that started at defining agapae and ended in whether or not Abigail was dishonoring when she called her husband a fool.

Darla Varney led a closing prayer and stood to leave.  The chief hadn’t been home for dinner before she left and she knew he was probably tired, hungry, and therefore cranky.  As she stood, she saw Willow and recognized the look of someone with a question she didn’t know how to ask.  “Willow, was there something you wanted to say or-”

“Well, I just wondered when we were going to study the Bible?  I have to go home soon- it’ll be dark before I get there as it is-”

“Well, Bible study is over now so-”

Willow’s shocked face silenced the police chief’s wife.  “But we didn’t open our Bibles.  I thought this meeting was to come and study the Bible.”

Silence hovered over the group.  They knew they often disintegrated into fellowship more than actual study of the Word but Willow’s observation that they hadn’t cracked the covers of their Bibles all night.  A few hands fumbled with Bible covers, a few groped tote bags or purses to check if they even had one with them, and Shannon surreptitiously reached behind her and pulled her Bible from the shelf.

Lee Wu stepped forward.  “Come on.  Let’s go to The Daily Grind for cheesecake and coffee.  I think you’re going to be good for me.”

Willow followed feeling somewhat confused, and stood beside Lee’s early nineties Pontiac Le Mans.  “What just happened in there?”

“We got a much needed two by four across our heads.  Hop in.”

She paused, her heart yearning to get to know Lee but her well-ordered sense of responsibility protesting, and then shook her head.  “Sorry, it’s already much later than I intended to leave.  I’d love to go with you but I need to get home.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’m walking.  I need to change my shoes though.”

Lee’s eyebrows rose questioningly but she wisely said nothing.  “Come on.  Have dessert with me and I’ll drop you at home.”

“I’m five miles east but thanks.”

The car door opened as Lee pushed it from the inside.  “Oh that’s not far at all.  I’d love to do it.”

Willow, stuffing down her ingrained reticence to riding in cars with relative strangers, slid into the seat and shut the door.  The moment the key turned, Willow screamed.  Hands flailing, she fought what seemed like an attack of killer seatbelts.

Seconds later, she lay sprawled on the sidewalk, one foot hooked around the seatbelt, and her arms and chin skinned and bleeding.  The sound of shocked and concerned onlookers sent her eyes in the direction of Shannon’s apartment’s porch.  Willow groaned and gave Lee a sheepish look.

“It attacked me!”

“I’m sorry-” Lee couldn’t finish.  She tried to choke down her laughter but it wasn’t possible.  Hurrying to Willow’s aid, Lee shouted for a clean wet washcloth and a few band-aids.

“No bandages.  I’ll be fine but I would appreciate the cloth.  This sidewalk is dirty.”

Twenty minutes later, the two women laughed and knitted the first rows of a new friendship over decaffeinated coffee and chocolate chip cheesecake.  Lee trailed off mid-sentence about her job as a stylist in Fairbury’s most exclusive, and only, hair salon.  ”Um- I don’t know how to tell you this, but your top is ripped in an, um, inconvenient place.”

Willow glanced down and saw one side of her chest fully exposed.  Against the grass green print of her shirt, Willow’s bra was more than a little obvious.  She grabbed at her shirt forcing the pieces to meet and blushed miserably.

Before Lee could even attempt to console her, the door jangled and both women heard Chad Tesdall’s voice call out in surprise, “Willow!  It is you!  I saw you from the car and wondered…”

All attempts to be nonchalant as she griped her shirt and refused to meet anyone’s eyes failed until he continued.  “Hey, I’ve got to take paperwork into Brunswick, want a ride home?”

Willow’s eyes flew to Lee’s begging desperately for an out.  She knew that she’d never be able to get in a vehicle, strap on a seatbelt, and then get out again without exposing herself again.  Lee caught Willow’s panic and gave Chad a mockingly cold stare.  “You can’t have her all the time.  Some of us want to get to know her too so butt out.  This is a girl’s night out and no boys allowed!”

Chad backed away grinning.  “No offense, no offense!  Just trying to help here.  Have fun.  I’m gone.”

Gratitude poured from Willow.  “Oh thank you.  There is no way I could have gotten home and in the house without-” she shuddered unable to continue.

“I don’t blame you.  Chad’s a good egg but if he keeps monopolizing you no one will ever get to know you so it’s good all around.”

“Monopolizing?”

With an exaggerated shake of her head, Lee wagged a finger and said, “He’s always with you.  He hovers like a freaky controlling boyfriend who’ll kill anyone who dares glance at his chick.”

Willow’s laughter echoed around the coffee shop sending several curious glances her way.  “Oh wouldn’t he find that funny.”

“Why?”

“Because Chad would love more than anything for someone else to take me on as their ‘project’ and leave him free to do his own thing.”

Lee’s tone was doubtful.  “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I know so.  We’ve talked about it some- not enough though.”

Lee stood and carried their cups and plates to the counter.  As they pushed in their chairs to leave, Lee remarked, “Well if he said that, it must have been when you first met him.  Chad Tesdall only does what he truly wants to do even if he’s too stupid to realize it’s what he truly wants.”