Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Episode 15

by Chautona Havig

  A Serial Novel: Episode Fifteen

  Chautona Havig

  Copyright 2012 Chautona Havig

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Connect with Me Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/ - !/Chautona

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Chautona-Havig-Just-the-Write-Escape/320828588943

  My blog: http://chautona.com/chautona/blog/

  All Scripture references are from the NASB. NASB passages are taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE (registered), Copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation

  Contents

  Copyright 2012 Chautona Havig 2

  Chapter 104 4

  Chapter 105 9

  Chapter 106 13

  Chapter 107 20

  Chapter 108 26

  Chapter 109 32

  Chapter 110 38

  Chapter 104

  Sunday afternoon, Chad snoozed. His crazy work schedule, the past few months’ stresses, and the plans for the wedding all hit him at once. Mid-sentence, he’d just stopped talking. Completely. Willow watched him sleep for several minutes and then slipped from the living room.

  Outside, she took a deep breath. She knew he needed his rest as much as she needed time alone to process the past twenty-four hours. She missed her mother. She needed someone to talk to and yet wanted no one around her.

  Shrugging off her unsettled spirit, Willow marched straight to the washing machine and slowly loaded it with tablecloths, checking each for stains before she dropped it into the machine. In no time, the summer kitchen hummed with activity. She assessed the food situation, froze leftovers, and rearranged things to her personal preferences. In the greenhouse, she tended the plants, reordered the place, and found a few plates and things that had been stashed by someone.

  Next, she folded tables and took them to the barn. There was a perfect place high above the kitchen to store them but Willow wasn’t sure how to get them up there. Instead, she stacked them all in one stall and all of the chairs in another. She refused to attempt to climb a ladder pushing a table.

  After the kitchen and yards were clear, she grabbed her tool belt and gloves, retrieved a roll of wire, and took off to fix the cut sections of fencing. Chad awoke to see her out by the road, wiring the fence back together in the afternoon sun. His chuckle would have confused her. Only Willow would spend the first afternoon of her honeymoon repairing fences when no animal needed them.

  He pushed the screen door open and then paused. Maybe she needed a little time alone. Her world had been turned upside down in the last year, and in the past twenty-four hours—exponentially. His parents had worried about how their relationship would work, and Chad, once again, was amazed at how God definitely worked in their life to ensure everyone’s good.

  While watching Willow as she worked, Chad fumbled for his cellphone and dialed his parents’ number. “Mom?”

  “Chad! We didn’t expect to hear from you so soon!”

  “Is Pop there?” Marianne assured him that Christopher was with her and they had the phone on speaker. “I wanted to thank you guys for everything yesterday—especially when it was all up in the air. I was able to do my job because I could trust you to take care of everything else.”

  “Oh, Chaddie, you could have missed your own wedding!”

  Christopher made hushing sounds. “But he didn’t, he’s fine. Just be thankful.” To Chad he added hesitantly, “Everything ok there?”

  “Sure, Pop. We—” Chad cleared his throat. “Well, we had kind of a long day yesterday— all those people, and then kind of a late night, so I took a nap this afternoon.”

  Marianne and Christopher didn’t speak but their eyes communicated verbosely. “You all right, son?”

  “Um yeah! I’m great, actually. Willow seems to have taken my naptime and put it to good use. The tables are out of the yard, she’s probably washing linens, and right now, she’s out fixing fences.”

  He could see them as if his phone was a camera. His mother’s face showed disappointment, and his father had probably put an arm around her to comfort her. Was that a sigh? Probably. “I knew you guys would have the world’s most unusual honeymoon,” Christopher said.

  “Yeah.” He infused as much happiness as he could casually interject into his tone. This was going to be good. “Well, I should get out there and help her or she’ll be antsy all night thinking about the work that wasn’t done.” Chad stifled back a snicker, as his parents said nothing. “I just wanted to invite you to come out any weekend—well, maybe not next weekend, but any time after that. We have enough room you know. Cheri can have ‘her room’ and the spare room mattress is comfortable, you know.”

  “We’re not going to kick you out of your room, son. We can visit without staying overnight.”

  “Oh, no problem. You wouldn’t be kicking me out of my room. I’m pretty sure Willow would have serious objections to giving up our bed.” With that, Chad said goodbye and clicked the phone shut. What he would give to see his parents’ faces right about then.

  Chad slipped out the front door and started down the driveway, meeting Willow halfway. She smiled as she neared. “Afternoon, Chaddie.”

  Shaking his head at her, Chad took the tools and wire from her. “You could have woken me, lass. I’d have helped.”

  “You needed your rest.”

  They strolled up the drive to the barn. Inside, he dropped everything and pulled her close. “I am a very happy man.”

  “That was the goal,” she replied impishly.

  Chad’s Argosy Junction CD played in his laptop as they ate dinner. Willow toyed with her salad, picking chicken pieces out and then dropping them back to the plate. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”

  As he ate his own salad, laden with leftover chicken from the previous night, Chad tried to imagine what could be bothering her. “Well, if you don’t feel like eating, how about a walk?” Her shrug was less than encouraging. “Play a game?”

  Chad didn’t know what to think. Why was she so out of spirits? Had he offended her? Should he ask, or would that make it worse. Women got that way sometimes. If you didn’t know why they were irritated that just made the situation worse. He glanced at her. No, Willow wouldn’t be like that.

  “Have I said or done something that bothers you?”

  Her eyes flew up from her plate. “Of course not!”

  She took a bite as if to assure him she’d be fine. It only unsettled him further. In desperation, he clung to the only thing that he could think might be the problem. “Um, would you rather I make up the bed in your mom’s room?”

  “No!” Willow stood and shoved back the chair. “That is, if you think that’s best, then fine, but don’t do it on my account.”

  “I’m trying to understand what is wrong, but I’m failing here.”

  “I don’t know, I said. I wish I did so I could tell you, but I just don’t know.”

  He carried his empty plate to the sink and reached automatically for a towel. The edge left the air in the kitchen as they worked silently together to put the room back in order. Once finished, the unsettled feeling shrouded Willow again, and Chad noticed immediately.

  “I’ll go milk Ditto.”

  “Why don’t I do that and you relax?”

  Chad started to protest, but the disappointment that crept into her face stopped him. “You�
��re probably right. I think I’ll take a shower.”

  While lathering and rinsing Chad prayed. As he dried off, realization dawned. He remembered Willow after his nap, during kitchen clean up, and the change that came over her as she strolled to the barn for Ditto’s milk pail. He tossed the Dockers and button down shirt he’d brought to change into back into the closet and pulled on old jeans and a holey t-shirt.

  At the barn, he met Willow carrying the milk pail. “So, what do we do on a spring evening? Hoe? Rake? Sow? Reap? If we reap, do we have to do it grimly?”

  “You want to work?” A spark lit her eyes, but she quickly extinguished it.

  “Isn’t there a lot of work to be done around here?”

  “Well…”

  Draping an arm across her shoulder, Chad led her into the summer kitchen and began straining the milk. “Look, I think I know what is wrong.”

  “Well then tell me, because I’m going crazy.”

  “You’re bored.”

  “I am not!” she protested hotly. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “But you are. You’re used to being very active, even if it’s lying around catching fish. You’re not used to lying around the house doing nothing. You’ve spent the past three weeks doing things that put you behind in your spring and summer work, and it’s showing.”

  “But this is our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to be relaxing?”

  Chad poured the boiling water over the freshly washed milk pail and let it drip dry on the counter. He laced their fingers together, and pulled her outside into the evening air. “Some people go skiing, others go snorkeling or mountain climbing. Sightseeing is even exhausting. We’re farming. So what?”

  “Well, we do need…”

  He listened as her mind went in a million audible directions. Among the things mentioned were another field for more alfalfa, more chicks arriving that week, the need to shear the sheep before the first of June, and a dog house for the new puppy. “Mother never allowed a doghouse. She said the barn was sufficient, but I always wanted a doghouse right under that tree, and I’d like to have one. You know how to build things.”

  “I can’t believe you refuse to even try.”

  “I’m no good—”

  His head shook as he interrupted. “Nope, not buying it. You said that about shooting but you worked at it until you were a good shot because you had to. Your mother wasn’t there to do it for you, so you worked hard and learned it. Your mother always did well with wood, you found it hard, so you decided to let it beat you because it was less injurious to your pride.”

  Her protest died in her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at Chad in dismay. “You’re right. I can’t believe it but you’re right.”

  “Well, we can’t build a dog house tonight.”

  “We can’t plow up a field either. Too much work for so late. We can do that Wednesday. Tonight, why don’t we work outside on flower beds, the garden, rotate the fields for the animals…”

  Already, Chad felt lost, but his Willow was back. She folded the tablecloths from the line and handed him a new basket of wet ones. “Why don’t you hang these and I’ll walk around and see what we need to do first.”

  Until twilight, they worked. Chad rotated animals and picked weeds in her immense gardens. The space was twice the size of the previous year, and it took all evening to get all of the weeds and tomato worms out of the garden, even working as quickly as he could.

  Meanwhile, Willow scrubbed down the porch, weeded the flowerbeds, and though it didn’t look much different, felt satisfied as moonlight replaced sunlight. She stood up and dusted her hands, contented. “Well, that’s a good day’s work.”

  “Well, especially for Sunday—”

  “Oh!” Willow’s eyes widened. “Mother always thought we should limit ourselves once a week. She wasn’t a strict sabbatarian, but she did think a day of less work was important. I just forgot it was Sunday.”

  “Well, we did enough. We wouldn’t want to collapse in exhaustion—”

  “Oh,” she interrupted excitedly. “But I sleep best when I’ve worked hard all day. Crawl into bed, collapse, and don’t wake up until the sun rises. It’s the best sleep ever.”

  Chad’s jaw attempted to drop, but he kept tight control over his stunned amusement. As they climbed the steps, he stifled chuckles, trying to think of a way to remind her of other possible plans for the evening. “I had other ideas…”

  “Game?”

  “Um—” As delicately as he could, Chad made several suggestions for how they could spend their evening, which caused Willow to blush and her eyes to grow wide.

  “Again? We don’t even know if it worked or not!”

  “Worked?”

  She stared at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. “They now have ways to tell me if I’m pregnant in less than twenty-four hours?”

  “Pregnant?” He knew he sounded like a parrot, but her words made no sense.

  “That’s kind of the point of it all, right? How can we know—”

  “Oh, lass… we have to talk—”

  Her laughter filled the room. Tears streaming down her face, she struggled for air between guffaws. “You—oh, your—your face.”

  “Why you little…”

  Willow took one look at the expression on his face and ran. The hint of a limp as she thundered across the yard and vaulted the fence told him she was tired. He held back, waiting. She’d wear out soon enough, and he’d get her then. Several times, she stumbled as she glanced over her shoulder to gauge his distance.

  At the pool, she jumped—shoes and all. Chad hesitated only long enough to kick his shoes and jeans off before he jumped in after her. “You can’t get away from me, you know.”

  “Who wants to get away from you?” She winked. “Especially before we know—”

  “I was so confused. I mean, I know you’ve had animals out here, so I—”

  “I banked on that.”

  He dunked her—twice. She jumped on his back and tried to get him, but found herself landing several feet away. Willow surfaced, coughing. “How did you do that?”

  Chad laughed and swam to the bank and found a place to climb out. “I don’t even know. I—I just don’t know.”

  “The water is cold.”

  He stood on the bank and stared down at her as she treaded water and gazed up at him. “So why are you still in it?”

  “Because when I get out, I’ll be colder and you’ll just throw me back in anyway.”

  The sun would be down before he could get back with dry clothes. “So, do you want me to run for a towel or do you want to run with me to get a towel?”

  After a few more seconds of observing him, she nodded to the rope. “Throw it in. I’ll go with you.”

  To his surprise, she used the rope as an anchor to help her walk right out of the pool. “I’ll have to swing out over it sometime.”

  Landing near his feet, she shivered and pointed to his clothes. “You might as well get dressed. There’s no reason for both of us to freeze. C’mon!”

  They half-ran for a few minutes until Willow slowed to a stroll. She slipped her hand in his and moved closer. “It’s beautiful out here. I wish it were late enough for fireflies. We could have had an evening wedding with fireflies dancing around us like those twinkle lights Cheri put up in the greenhouse.”

  “Yeah, like that made sense. Who could see them?”

  She laughed. “That’s what I told her, but she wanted to do it. I forgot to take them down.”

  As they neared the house, she seemed to slow even more. Chad gazed down at her, concerned. “Lass, if you’re not ready… if it was too much too soon…”

  She didn’t answer. Willow stopped midstride and turned, wrapping her arms around him. “I can’t believe I ever doubted that you wouldn’t understand—that you couldn’t know how to make me feel safe. It’s so crazy.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m kind of making this up as I go. I ju
st can’t stand the thought of you dreading—”

  “It’s not that, Chad. Not at all.”

  “You’re hesitant to go back. I can sense it.”

  Again, she didn’t answer. Frustration filled his heart and anger welled in his spirit. Fury at the men who had done this to her without ever speaking an unkind word or touching her in any way overwhelmed him until he feared she would notice. Two dead men and a woman in jail had warped her before she was even out of the womb. He should feel grief or compassion for the likelihood of their lost states. All he could muster was relief, knowing that the God of mercy who would have saved them was also a God of justice.

  “Remember what I joked about?” she asked at last.

  “How could I forget. I have to tell my dad about that, you know. I just have to.”

  “Go ahead. I don’t care.”

  Several more long seconds passed. She did not speak. “Lass?”

  Again, she hesitated. “Well, if I really thought that—just pretending I did—” her eyes rose to meet his. “Would that make it good or bad that I would have been hoping that it didn’t quite work yet?”

  Chapter 105

  A very different Willow left the sheep ranch outside New Cheltenham, cuddling a puppy and trying out names on her. Chad remembered getting Saige, and while Willow hadn’t been ambivalent toward the dog, she had not shown nearly as much interest in that pup as she did in this one. Fluffy ears and puppy breath kept her mind and hands occupied for the fifty miles home.

  “She’s a black and white dog…”

  “That’s astute of you.”

  Willow shoved him playfully. “Knock it off. I think I’m going to name her Portia. She’s as black and white as Portia’s interpretation of the contract in Merchant of Venice.”

  “Shakespeare. You would.”

  The pup curled into her lap and settled down for a short nap. Every mile that passed seemed etched in the story of their new life together. Somehow, a change had washed over their relationship, and yet everything was also the same. Had they tried to explain it, he suspected that they both would have failed.