November 2, 1992-
The alfalfa was a success.  It took me a while, but I finally mastered the swing of the scythe.  Willow raked the cut hay into piles and wheeled them into the barn while I cut.  We make a fine team.
I gave her a journal for her birthday and some pretty pens.  She has taken to copying everything she likes in books in her journal.  It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind but at least she’s practicing proper grammar.  More free education without actual instruction.  It works.
This is the first winter that I finally feel prepared for.  We have the cow and chickens in the freezer, vegetables canned and frozen, and the cellar is stocked to overflowing.  I hope I didn’t over plant potatoes.  We just eat so much more than I ever imagined.  This life requires an obscene amount of food and calories.  We work so hard.  I think that’s good.
We’re almost never ill.  I can trace nearly every illness to visits to town.  It is tempting to get a phone so we can have things delivered without that walk but I suppose we have the equivalent of a bubble here.  Those forays into germ-city are probably good.

November 18, 1992
We were in town today.  I should have remembered to see who won the elections.  I could have talked about it with Willow and explain the legislative process.  Oh well, maybe when she’s ten.  She’ll be old enough to stay home alone then.
Alone.  What is a good age for that?  There is nothing stamped on a child that says, “Do not leave unattended until the age of ten.”  Is eight too young?  Should I be practicing now?  Leave her for a while but take the binoculars and watch to see that she’s safe?  If we had a phone, I could call when I got to town and keep tabs on her while I was gone.
Ma Ingalls didn’t have that option and she managed.  Then again, Laura had Mary and visa versa.  I have to practice though.  There are times that Mr. Barnes needs me in Rockland and I am not taking Willow there.  Ever.  I hope she never develops a desire to go.
Desire.  Will she desire this life I’ve created?  I need to be prepared for a rejection of it.  She’s likely to be just as fascinated by what I left as I was by what I sought.  Will I continue alone when she is grown and gone?
Will I go crazy watching a man come into her life?  I try not to show my distaste of men in general.  I make sure I speak well of my father and Winston Barnes.  I must not pass on this warped view of mine but how can I stand to trust someone with her?  She’s so sweet and endearing.
I hear her outside.  She’s playing with Bumpkin.  She throws the stick down the driveway and hides.  Bumpkin always finds her of course.  He’s a sweet dog but I must remember not to get another short-legged howler.  Basset hounds aren’t good for sleep or for guard dog duty.  No matter how cute the puppy is, the answer is no.  Say it twenty times Kari!
The hooking supplies arrived yesterday.  We’ll start on rugs for the house soon.  I think it’ll help keep our floors warmer and our rooms better insulated.  I can hope anyway.  I think Willow is old enough to be significantly helpful on this project as well.  She knows when I’m making up things for her to do.  Children aren’t stupid.  Why do we always underestimate them?

“I’m hooking a rug this winter too, Mother,” Willow whispered as she closed the journal.  The rain was slowing.  It had battered the house from what seemed like every angle but now fell gently.  Softly.
She opened the windows wide.  With a large towel, she dried the front and back doors leaving them opened to allow the fresh air to breeze through the house.  If the rain stopped soon, she’d be able to let the chickens out for a few hours before dark.
Sighing, she sat at the sewing machine and worked the treadle spinning a new bobbin.  She’d be finished soon.  The fabric looked perfect.  Just before she’d cut into the fabrics, the idea to make the jumpers mirror images of each other occurred to her.  She knew little about children but the idea of easily discernable clothing appealed to her when she remembered how exactly alike the girls were.
Jill McIntyre’s large truck sloshed through the puddles in her drive and parked next to the house.  Willow called for her to enter as she finished a seam.  “I’ll be right there.  I’m so glad you could use the veggies.  I had no idea the storm would last this long or I wouldn’t have picked them.”
“Well, I couldn’t use what I normally take but what you described sounds perfect for the store.”  Jill surveyed Willow’s room interestedly.  “What are you making?”
“Chad’s cousin knows these twin little girls.  I had some left over fabric from my new dress so I made them jumpers.”
“That’s a jumper?”  Jill removed the completed jumper from a hanger and examined it.  “So she wears a shirt under it?”
“Oh.  That’s a good point.  I didn’t think about that.  They might not have something that matches, huh?”
Jill saw the wheels already turning in Willow’s mind.  If she didn’t speak up quickly, Willow would take on more work.  “No, I just wanted to make sure we had the same definition of jumper.  I’ve never seen anything like that.  It’s so chic!  I bet you could sell those.”
Willow snipped the final threads of the second jumper and stood shaking her head.  “I doubt it.  And even if I could, I can’t afford that many hours making fabric.”
As they loaded her pick up, Jill quizzed Willow about the design process, the fabric making comment, and in short, the jumpers from start to finish.  By the time she left, Willow wasn’t sure if Jill liked, hated, or was simply amused with Willow’s garments.
With a final wave, Willow hurried to the chicken coop.  The weather was clearing.  Patches of blue dotted the skies and shafts of sunlight streamed across the glistening meadows.  It was a perfect Saturday Summer evening.
***
Sunday morning, Willow tried to walk to the highway but the ground was far too muddy.  She considered attempting to ride the bicycle but cringed at the thought of sinking the wheels into the mud.  “Well Lord, it’s just you and me again.”
She grabbed her fishing gear, two buckets, and tied a sandwich and water bottle to her hips.  The pup tried to follow but Willow shut her in the barn and as a last minute thought, moved Wilhelmina out into the pen.  Across the meadow, she opened the gate to the cow pen and then made her way to the stream by the wading pool.  Fish always congregated there after a good rainstorm.
The banks were swollen.  She found the current much swifter and more unpredictable than usual but the pool was still reasonably calm.  She prepared her rod and settled against a tree trying to use the grass as a barrier from the mud.
“Oh how I love thy law. It is my meditation…”  Willow closed her eyes and mentally recited all of the psalms that she could remember.  When finished, she moved to the Sermon on the Mount, Romans, and her favorite book, Philemon.  Occasionally, she paused to drop a new fish into the bucket but for the most part, spent the morning reviewing every scripture she could remember.
When no new verses came to mind, Willow ate her sandwich, drank what was left of her water, packed her tackle, and started home with both buckets full of fish.  Mud clung to her jeans, her backside, and her shoes.  The buckets were heavy and bulky but the thought of fish in winter kept her going.
In the barn, she stripped off her muddy clothes and wrapped a towel around her.  She slipped on her barn boots and sloshed across the yard to the back door.  There she removed the boots, rinsed her feet with the hose, and went inside to put on clean clothes.
As she returned to the barn, it occurred to her that walking around her property in nothing but a towel wasn’t a good idea anymore.  Chad stopped by on a regular basis.  Chuck had mentioned coming and it wasn’t unreasonable to assume Jill might stop in without calling.
In the middle of filleting the trout, her phone rang.  Willow washed her hands, dried them, and then opened the phone to see who had called.  Not surprised, she punched the button for Chad’s number and waited.  “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“What for?”
“I realized after church when I went looking for you that you probably couldn’t make it.  I should have called and offered you a ride.”
A slow smile spread over her face.  “I’m fine.  The Lord and I had a good time in His word by the stream.”
“Catch anything?”
“Two buckets.  I’m almost done filleting the first one.”
Slightly envious, Chad sighed.  He still hadn’t had a chance to go fishing.  “I’ve got to try your stream sometime.”
“I should get back to the fish but I wanted to know if you would be seeing your cousin again soon so I’m glad you called.”
It amused him how she rarely thought to make a call herself.  “I can go out anytime.  Why?”
“I made those jumpers for the girls and I thought maybe he could-”
“Let’s go!” Chad interrupted.
“Really?”
“Sure.  I’ll call Luke and then call you back.”
Before she could respond, the phone went dead.  She stared at the pile of cleaned fish and started wrapping quickly.  She’d just split open the first fish of the second bucket when her phone rang again.
Impatiently, she dropped the knife and washed her hands.  Somehow, she managed to answer before the phone sent it to voicemail.  “Yes.”
“You sound ticked.  We don’t have to go I just thought-”
Willow sighed.  “It’s not that.  I was just in the middle of another fish.  I’m sorry.”
“Luke said to come on over.  They’re working on the outside today.  He wants me to pick up Aunt Libby though.”  Chad waited expectantly.  He really wanted Willow to meet his favorite aunt.
“I have to finish the fish first but-”
“I’ll be right there.  Save me one.  It’s been a while.”
They worked side-by-side in silence.  After each filleted fish he finished, Chad passed it to Willow for inspection and grabbed another.  “How did you catch so many?”
“The pool always fills during a rainstorm.  I can usually get half a dozen without a lot of trouble but after a rain, I can get about all I can carry.”
“Next time it rains, I’m coming fishing.”
He saw her surreptitiously pull a bone from the fish he’d just finished as she rinsed it well, patted it dry, and wrapped it for freezing.  Willow Finley wouldn’t embarrass him with obvious correction but she didn’t ignore a flaw either.  It was unusual but nice.
“I’m getting a feel for this again.  I think I can catch them all now.  Why don’t you go clean up?  I’ll finish.”
“Are you sure?”  She knew she was filthy but felt awkward leaving him to do her work.
“I won’t leave any more bones-”
“That’s not what I meant! I just-”
Chad snapped a towel at her and made shooing motions.  “I was just teasing.  Really, there’s only two left.  Go.  I’ll stop and change in town before we go to Brant’s Corners.”
Minutes later, Willow stood with hair dripping and nothing but a towel around her in her closet and stared at the options.  A skirt was comfortable and appropriate for any occasion- or so Mother had always said.  However, if she ended up helping with work- She grabbed jeans and one of her new tops and started to change.  The sound of the screen door closing sent her flying to close her bedroom door.
“Be down in a minute,” she called as she stepped into the jeans.
In Fairbury, Willow watched interestedly as Chad turned off Market Street into a residential area.  Soon, he parked on a street of Victorian-styled row houses.  “Wow, this is a beautiful house.  It reminds me of the ones from our book on San Francisco.”
“That’s what this street was modeled after.  The builder saw the row houses on a trip to San Francisco and decided to build a street of them here.  He tried to get the city planners to let him name this street after it too but they didn’t let him.”
Willow glanced around her.  “So what is the name of the street?”
“This is the woodland area.  I live on Bramble Row.  The next street over is Moss Court and the one we just passed was Briar Rose Lane.”
“Well, he got the row in there didn’t he?”
Inside the house, Willow was surprised to see stairs and a hallway but no furnishings.  She followed him up the stairs wondering why he didn’t invite her into his living room instead.  Surely, it wasn’t wise-
Chad unlocked a door to what should have been a bedroom or two and she found herself in a tiny apartment.  “Oh, they’re flats.”
His apartment was empty.  Unlike Bill’s deliberate minimalist design, Chad’s apartment simply held nothing but the barest essentials and a mismatched of hodge-podge things at that.  He saw her expression and shrugged.  “It’s just temporary.”
“I wasn’t-”
“Well, honestly, it’s not like it’s all that exciting.  I know it.  I just don’t plan to be here very long so I’m not spending money on the temporary.”
“Are you planning on buying a house?”
“If I can afford one.  Rockland’s pretty expensive.  I’ll be lucky to afford an apartment in a decent area.”
Dismay filled Willow but she tried not to show it.  He was moving.  What would life be like without Chad stopping by now and then?  “When are you moving?”
From his bedroom, Chad answered as he changed out of his fishy smelling church clothes into shorts and a t-shirt.  “Probably not for another four years.  Five years with Fairbury will give me age and experience to get on the Rockland force.”
Four years.  The relief unnerved her.  A lot could happen in four years.  She might make more friends by then.  Why was she so comforted knowing it wasn’t soon?
“So you plan to live in limbo for four years?”
Chad tossed his dirty clothes on a pile in the corner of the living room.  “Why not?”
“Just curious”
“Oh no,” he protested.  “I can see you have an opinion and I want to hear it.”
“Well, what if something happens?  What if they aren’t hiring in four years?  What if you decide you want to stay here-”
“I am not staying here; that’s for sure.”
They discussed his career plans all the way to Brant’s Corners.  His eagerness to do ‘real police work’ rather than what he considered little better than civic babysitting amused her.  He’d joined the Fairbury force only weeks before Fairbury’s only exciting crime spree was solved.
“Fairbury has the highest turnover of officers in the state.  The chief brings ‘em in, trains ‘em right, and then sends ‘em off to Rockland or Marshfield or one of the other towns north.  Joe and Judith are the only ones who’ve been here more than three years.”
“How long has Joe been here?”  Willow remembered the kind officer who had taught her the two-step.
“Almost ten years I think.  I’m not quite sure.”
“Why hasn’t he moved along?”
Chad turned off the highway onto a frontage road.  “He’s committed to the town.  He thinks if he works with the kids here, we won’t lose them to Rockland and the crime and gangs there.”
“Makes sense.”
He nodded as he turned into a small driveway.  “It works too.  It’s just I want to do something.  Change something.  Prevention is important- I understand that, but I want to make a difference for the community that is already hurting.
“This is Aunt Libby’s place.  I’ll go get her.”
Before he reached the door, a smiling woman with a silver bun closed the door behind her.  Chad hugged her and as he did, Willow saw how truly special Libby Sullivan was to her nephew.  A sense of dread covered her and without thinking, Willow prayed that Chad would be safe wherever he ‘walked a beat.’
“Willow,” Chad began as he opened the truck door for his aunt.  “This is my Aunt Libby.  Oh no, I got it backwards didn’t I Aunt Lib?”
“It works.  She knows my name; I know hers.  It’s nice to meet you Willow.”
The cab shrunk considerably when three tried to squeeze on the seat.  Willow sat with one leg tucked behind Chad’s and one leg tucked behind Libby’s.  Chad shifted gears between her knees wondering why he hadn’t thought of the awkwardness as he zipped along the road to Aggie’s.
“So Chad tells me you’ve made dresses for the twins.  I assume you mean the little ones?  I doubt Tavish would appreciate a dress,” Libby teased.  “May I see them?”
Willow slid the package in her lap across to Libby and nodded.  “Of course.”
Libby’s delight was apparent even before she spoke.  “Oh this is darling!  Oh Chad, won’t little Cari- you’ve met the girls haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t she look adorable- I think it’ll fit too!  You do excellent work Willow.  Aggie will be so pleased.”
***
“I can’t believe you made dresses for little girls you saw once for such a short time!  They’re so cute too.  Thank you!”  Aggie Milliken hugged Willow impulsively.
“You’re welcome.  I had fabric left over and wanted to use it up so-”
“She hand painted that paisley fabric.  Can you believe that?”
Libby and Luke exchanged amused glances.  Chad had been trying to ’sell’ Willow on them since their arrival.  Clueless to the silent debate raging around her, Aggie went into new ecstasies over the fabric.  “I can’t believe- I mean I see it now that I look but it’s so perfect…”
“Except for the spot where Chad made me mess up.  It’s under…”  Willow showed a streak of paint under one corner of the overskirt and pretended deep offense at his goof.
They sat and talked for some time sipping iced mint tea and nibbling on chocolate chip cookies.  A young girl of around thirteen brought out a baby, sat him at Aggie’s feet, and then disappeared around the corner of the house calling for a game of Mother May I.
Willow watched the baby crawl to Libby and then he caught her eye.  With a toothy grin, the little tyke raced across the porch making Willow wince at the thought of splinters in the chubby knees.  At her feet, he tried to pull up on her legs but his own wobbled.  She caught him before he fell.
“May I pick him up?”  Willow’s nervousness was evident in more than her voice.
“Sure.”
As Willow tried to lift him, she fumbled trying to hold his head at the same time.  “I can’t seem to support his head-”
“He’s fine.  He can support it without help.”
The baby played with her buttons, her sleeve, her eyes, chin, and everything else he could touch.  Willow lost all interest in the conversation around her as she tried to follow the movements of the child.  “What is his name?”
“Ian.  He likes you.  You seem very good with children.”
“I’ve never been around children before that Sunday I got the pup.”
“She was a natural then too, wasn’t she Luke.  She handled Cari like-”
Aggie’s head whipped up and her eyes sought Luke.  “What?  You didn’t tell me she was a problem.”
Willow interrupted quickly.  “Oh she wasn’t a problem.  She was tempted to do wrong and I encouraged her to reconsider.  It wasn’t anything serious, was it Luke?”
“Not at all.  You were great though.  Not everyone-” Luke paused and gave Chad a meaningful look.  “Not everyone knows how to handle a child like Cari.”
Libby brought the twins onto the porch.  Willow smiled as she saw them and immediately asked to take a picture.  “I’d love to have one for my scrapbook.”
At Aggie’s agreement, Willow pulled her simple 35mm camera from her purse and spent several minutes trying to capture the perfect picture without wasting film.  Chad finally groaned in exasperation.  “Luke, is your camera in your glove compartment?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Can I use it?”
“I guess-”
Chad returned quickly carrying a digital camera and handed it to Willow.  “Here snap a dozen- snap three dozen.  We’ll delete any that are junk.”
Though she didn’t understand why or how they’d delete pictures, Willow tried to snap a few assuming Aggie must want a copy as well.  “I can’t find a viewfinder.”
“Look at the screen.”  Chad showed her the back of the camera.  “It works like your phone.”
“My phone?”
“You read the instructions.  I saw you.”
“I read the phone instructions.  I didn’t bother with anything about a camera.”
Chad laughed.  “Your phone takes pictures too.  I’ll show you later.  Meanwhile, hold the camera away from you so you can see the screen.  Look.”
By now, the twins had lost all interest in modeling the jumpers and were jumping over porch boards trying to skip every other one.  Aggie started to send them back to the steps for a more formal picture but Willow shook her head.  “I can wait.  They’ve been patient.”
Chad removed the memory card and returned the camera to the truck.  “I’ll bring it back Tuesday when I come work on-” He stopped short.  “Ok?”
They spent the afternoon talking.  Around six o’clock, Aggie invited them in for dinner but one look at Willow’s expression told Chad it was time to take her home.  They’d forgotten Wilhelmina.
Libby followed them to the truck and gave Willow a quick hug.  “I’m so glad I met you and I hope I see you again soon.  If Chad doesn’t bring you to see me I may just show up on your doorstep.”
***
He shut the truck door and returned to Willow on the porch.  “I just remembered.  Next Sunday is the Midsummer’s Night Faire.”
“But Midsummer’s Eve is in June-”
“Well, Fairbury already has a street fair in June so they decided to find the actual middle of summer night and have it then.”
“What is ‘it’?”
“Well, it started off as an outdoor play about twelve years ago but now it’s a whole street fair.  It starts around four and goes until midnight.  There’s food, games-”
“I don’t know… That’s kind of late to walk home and-”
Chad’s voice held a trace of impatience.  “Who said anything about walking home?  I was inviting you to go with me-”
“I didn’t hear any invitation,” she snapped back.
“I-” Chad began before he realized that she was right.  He hadn’t asked.  Furthermore, she wasn’t accustomed to reading between lines.  “You’re right.  I didn’t.  I hoped you’d come.  I think you’ll have fun and of course I’d bring you home but-”
He just realized she’d miss the beginning if he came to get her.  “But what?”
Chad sighed.  “But you’d have to walk or ride into town if you wanted to be there at the beginning.  I don’t get off the beat until six.”
Willow nodded and then said no.  “I don’t think so.  I’ll probably have a lot of work to do the next day and you probably have to be at work by ten don’t you?”
“Oh you don’t want to miss this, Willow.  Honestly.  The cake walk has some of the best cakes ever and there’s usually music.  Alexa Hartfield is always there wearing one of her crazy dresses and she’ll win the Shakespeare bee of course.”
Willow’s head stopped shaking.  “Shakespeare bee?”
“It’s like a spelling bee only with Shakespearean quotes.”
A small smile played around Willow’s mouth.  She’d always wanted to be in a spelling bee but Shakespeare was even better.  “I’ll come.  I want to see a Shakespeare bee.”