“You went and got food, but I didn’t know that’s what you were doing. I got out of the shower and saw the dust from your truck on the road—just as you turned onto the highway, I think. I thought I drove you away.”
“Aw, lass…” Chad reached for her hand. “I just didn’t know how to cook anything worth eating with what you had. Anyway, I came back and brought food upstairs. You were curled on your bed in a little ball—like Kari does.” His throat constricted and his voice cracked as Chad murmured, “There were tears still on your cheeks.”
“That was a hard day—probably the worst one of all.” She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “You made it better. I didn’t know it then; I don’t think I knew it until right now, actually, but I started to fall in love with you that day.”
“You were appalled that I would bring you lunch in bed when you weren’t sick.”
“I was.” She laughed, remembering. “I could just see Mother standing in the door shaking her head. Her eyes widened. “Is that when I smiled?”
Chad nodded. “Yep. I think it’s a day for revelations because I don’t remember consciously thinking that you were beautiful then, but my memory has me thinking it. Maybe that was a defining moment for both of us—one neither of us knew about.”
“So my smile is what made you so clingy. Who knew I had such a magnetic smile?”
Chad leaned back in the chair again, his eyes taking in the picture of the woman before him. How had she become his wife? How had he ever convinced her to change so much just to accommodate him? His eyes swept the table and landed on the journal. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Do it. Close them. Describe the farm—the house, the barn, the chickens, the dog, anything. Describe what you want to see.”
“But it’s not just about me, Chad—”
“I promise to make sure we do what means a lot to me too, but I want to know what you see first.”
She tried. He had to give her credit, she tried. After the better part of a minute, her eyes opened and she shook her head. “What if I draw it? What if—”
“Great. Draw. Just share your heart with me. We keep reinventing this life of ours, and I think it’s part of why you feel so unsettled. You can’t adjust to changes because your foundation is changing too.”
Willow dropped the pen, staring at the paper as she digested his words. He wanted to talk—to encourage her to open herself up to him—but Chad forced himself not to speak. Her eyes rose to meet his and she stood. In one of those rare, wonderful moments when she lost all her natural reserve, Willow settled herself in his lap, kissing him with intensity he’d never felt from her.
As she pulled back, Willow dropped her head to his shoulder, visibly overwhelmed. Chad chuckled. His shirt muffled her voice as she murmured, “What?”
“I was just thinking about how much I wanted you to open yourself up to me—really share what’s on your heart. And you did. Just not in the way I expected.”
“Well—”
“And no I’m not complaining,” he growled. “Lass, you’ll be the death of me.”
“I had to be sure…”
Her sigh sent crazed emotions zinging through his nerves. “I mean it. You—”
She pushed herself off his lap and backed into his chair with evident reluctance. “I vote we table this make out session for the next round of naps, or we’ll never get this done and you’ll blame me.”
“I’ll what?!”
“You will…” Willow laughed at his indignation. “You’ll say I tempted—no, no, seduced—you. You know you will.”
“Well…” Temptation presented itself and Chad latched onto it. “Okay… I’ll concede if…”
“If what?”
“You surprise me with another kiss like that next time the kids go to bed.” Chad waited for her protest. It would come. It always did when he made such a suggestion, but that never stopped him from making it.
Willow picked up her pen and began sketching. “Deal.”
Voices filled the living room a week later. Chad’s parents, Willow’s grandparents, Josh and Becca, and Ryder sat on couches, in chairs. Willow and Chad snuggled together on the floor. The boys ran from person to person, showing off toys and trying to convince everyone they could to take them “Ou-ssigh.” Kari slept in Ryder’s arms, her little thumb hidden behind rosebud lips as they sucked intermittently.
“Okay, it’s time to call this meeting to order.” Chad’s voice rose above the din, but did little to quell the conversation.
Willow caught Ryder’s eye and covered her ears with her hands. Understanding lit his eyes and he covered Kari’s ears with a blanket. Once certain she wouldn’t wake her daughter, Willow cried out, “Quiet!” At the silence that followed she added a bit sheepishly, “Please. Thank you.” She turned to Chad and said, “You wanted to say something?”
“Well, that’s one way to get people’s attention,” he conceded. “Okay, so we called everyone here for Willow’s amazing chili and cornbread, yes, but we also wanted to talk about some of the changes we’re going to make around the farm.”
Marianne’s eyes widened. “More changes? Don’t you think—”
“Mari…” Christopher murmured. “Wait.”
“Sorry.” Marianne leaned against her husband. “Dad’s right. I was just surprised.”
“As was I,” Carol admitted. “I didn’t think—”
David nudged her and rolled his eyes at Christopher. “These women will ensure we never get to hear what’s coming.”
Willow listened to the banter, her heart swelling as the realization of all she’d been given pressed upon her. Chad, oblivious to her emotional state, tried again. “Well, we decided that we keep trying to adjust what we already have. We’re going to pull a Mother—of sorts.”
“A Mother—Kari?” David’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she got to choose how she’d live her life—start from scratch. We know we want to live here, but how we want to live here will change.”
Becca and Josh exchanged glances. Becca looked ready to cry and even Josh showed some dismay, hinting that both might assume their time at the farm had come to an end. Willow tried to give them a reassuring smile, but neither met her gaze. She hoped the plans they’d made would bless them.
“That seems wise,” Christopher said, although his voice held a trace of caution.
“So this is what we know. We’re rebuilding the summer kitchen and remodeling the present kitchen. It’ll be a big addition—laundry-slash-mudroom, summer kitchen, larger pantry to hold the freezers—the works.”
“Oh, Willow! I can’t imagine how excited you must be!” Marianne’s eyes widened. “I keep trying to tell Ebenezer here that we need to do ours, but he likes the nasty eighties Formica and ivy wallpaper.”
“I love your wallpaper,” Willow admitted. “I was thinking about doing one wall of ivy in the new kitchen.”
“Oh you wouldn’t—” Marianne’s face reddened. “Oh, my, she would.”
“You should know better than that, Mom. If she likes it, she does it. Period.” Chad dragged the discussion back on topic. “Then we’re going to build a massive greenhouse, but only if Ryder still wants to spend summers there. Otherwise, we’ll scale that back. She likes providing fresh, ripe, vegetables to her customers when they can’t get them out of season.”
“Jill will be relieved. People flock to the Farmer’s Market now because of Walden produce.” The pride in Becca’s voice could not be mistaken.
Chad nodded, oblivious to the alarm rising in Willow’s heart. She squeezed his hand, but he seemed to take it as encouragement to continue. “Well, we hope that for most of the produce, HearthLand will become the main supplier sometime in the next five years.”
Josh slipped an arm round Becca’s shoulders before echoing, “HearthLand?”
“Yes. That’s the name Ralph Myner gave his project, remember?” Willow gave Becca the most reassuring smile she
could manufacture. “It’s going to be great. Just listen.”
Chad continued to describe the farm he and Willow had decided would be theirs. The main gardens shrunk to a more family-sized one, even as the greenhouse increased in size at Ryder’s approval. The pumpkin patch gave way to more strawberries and the orchards doubled in size for a “U-pick” operation that left the town with plenty of fresh fruit and less work for Willow.
“We’ll keep the cattle and sheep. As much work as they are, it’ll be doable with part-time help if Becca and Josh decide not to stay on.”
At those words, the strain in Becca’s eyes dissolved into happy tears. “I thought sure I was fired.”
David cleared his throat. “Are you sure this is what you want, Willow? It’s still a lot of work.”
“It is, but we’ll reevaluate in five years. If we have to hire someone, so be it. We’re making a five year commitment so we can see what is and isn’t really important to us. These were the things that we knew we wanted to try.”
As David nodded his agreement, Carol spoke. “What about electricity? Still sticking to leaving it off?”
Chad and Willow spoke in unison. “Definitely.”
“Now here comes the awkward part. We almost did this privately, but we really wanted everyone’s counsel in this. We know we can be wrong, so—” Chad stopped mid-sentence as Willow nudged him. “What?”
“Just tell them!”
Laughter filled the room. “Okay. Josh and Becca. Our new plan means for less gardens and the same amount of livestock. That means less work for Becca to do for us during some months.”
“You could cut me back to part-time,” Becca suggested. “And we wouldn’t have to have the house built. We could find a place in Fairbury or Brunswick.”
“No!” Willow shook her head. “If you’re going to work here, we’re building the house. Period.”
Chad squeezed her shoulder in an obvious attempt to help her relax. “Willow’s right. We’re not trying to phase Becca out. However, we thought of another situation that we felt obligated to offer her. It would give both Josh and Becca the best of both their comfort zones, and that’s something we couldn’t ignore.”
Christopher guessed before Chad could continue. “HearthLand.”
Willow grinned. “Yep. We realized that we wanted to invest in Ralph’s community—even if we didn’t want to live there ourselves—and Chad pointed out that a house in the town there would give them all the room they needed for a family, for Ida, and for Becca to do as much as she likes with her own house instead of just keeping mine from falling apart around me.”
“But who will help you—”
Josh pulled her closer, whispering something into her ear. Willow didn’t hear what he said, but she did notice the emotion in his voice made his lisp more pronounced than usual. Becca hesitated, the tension still evident in her neck and the way her hands twisted. Still he spoke to her, and as he did, she relaxed against him, smiling. Josh nodded at Chad. “Go ahead. You know how she is—always trying to make everyone around her happy and comfortable.”
“Right. And that’s why we don’t want you to decide now. Take a week—a month. However long. In fact, the offer stands indefinitely. At any time, even if you stay and we build the house here, if you decide you want to move there, we’ll invest and you can buy out our investment if you ever decide you want to.”
“Well I don’t want to make Becca feel obligated to do anything. In fact,” Marianne added quickly, “I rather think that this HearthLand idea is ideal for her, but if Becca isn’t here to help with things like moving animals and whatever Willow doesn’t want to do or can’t do for herself anymore, how will it get done?”
The discussion continued around her, but Willow sat lost in her imagination. Her sons continued to pester each person in the room and Kari still slept, but Willow found herself several years in the future, her mind seeing how life would be. The room faded, and with it came a picture of morning milking as she showed her sons how to squirt a stream into the bucket, laundry on the line, children playing between the sheets as they flapped in the afternoon breeze, and afternoons in the garden. She watched the boys open the gate to move the animals from pasture to pasture and she and Kari clapped their hands to drive the animals through. Chickens, orchards, long rows of lavender along every fence, poetry recited to the cadence of a swing beneath the old oak, canning for the coming winter. Little pigtails flopped over one shoulder as Kari struggled to write her name and holey knees from two little boys who had more scrapes than teeth.
Willow’s heart swelled at the thought. Lord, this new life we’re planning. It’s going to be good—really good. It’s going to be us. We’ll learn from the past, but as of today, we’re moving forward into an amazing life. Thank you.
Epilogue
“Mother, why do I feel the wind when I swing—even when there is no wind?”
“Because you’re moving the air. You’re making wind, so to speak.”
Five-year-old Kari beamed. “And I thought only God could do that!”
“No,” Willow teased, “Only God can make a tree.”
“I remember that one. ‘A tree that looks at God all day and—and—’” Kari frowned and stopped pumping her legs, letting the swing drift slowly to a stop. “I can’t remember the rest.”
“‘—and lifts her leafy arms to pray.’”
“Right. But you said that the Bible says trees clap their hands, not lift them to pray.”
“It’s just symbolism, Kari. It’s like when Luke says the stones will cry out to praise Jesus if the people don’t.”
“Why did Uncle Luke say that?” Kari stood on the seat and begged Willow to push her. “Please, Mother… please!”
“I remember asking my mother to push me again. That was the day I learned how to say please properly.”
“Do I say it properly?”
Willow nodded. “You’ve always mimicked people’s speech patterns. It helped you. I used to tack please onto the beginning of a request or at the end. I didn’t really understand it that day, but the day I got my first swing was the day I learned to use please properly.”
“That’s why we need Jesus,” Kari informed her.
“Why do we need Jesus?”
“Because we don’t have a please.”
Confused, Willow leaned against the tree and crossed her arms over her chest. “’Splain, Lucy.”
“Who’s Lucy?”
“It’s just something your father says sometimes. It’s from a TV show. But still, explain what you mean by we don’t have a please.” A tingling at the base of her neck told Willow that this would be a good one. Kari had a talent for saying the most amusing things.
“Well, it’s like Aunt Aggie’s song says, Jesus’ blood was shed for me because I am there without even one please.”
Willow’s laughter filled the air. A cow in the pasture below lifted her head before returning to the sweet early summer grasses. A boy raced around the corner of the greenhouse and bolted for the tree. Another lad, only seconds behind, appeared before Willow could ask what was wrong. “Mama,” the second boy cried out, “Stop Lucas!”
“Why?”
The moment Liam hoisted himself up into the tree, Lucas dropped and kept running. Liam scrambled back down and took off in hot pursuit. Kari rolled her eyes. “Mother…”
Willow’s heart warmed at the name. From the moment she could say it, Kari had called her Mother—unprompted. “Yes?”
“Why do the boys always fight?”
“Because they love each other.”
“That’s silly.” Two brown eyes gazed up at her. “I’m glad you don’t fight with Daddy. You love him. That would be awful.” She jumped from the swing. “I’m going to go find out what Lucas did now. I’ll be back.”
Willow watched Kari as she chased after her brothers. Always behind, always just a little too slow to keep up, but Liam, tenderhearted Liam, noticed and slowed until she reached his side. Catching he
r hand, he pulled her along, calling for Lucas to wait for her. It worked every time.
Arms slipped around her waist and a rough chin brushed against her cheek. Willow glanced up at a sleepy Chad. “She still has them wrapped around her finger.”
“And they love it.”
“You were right about that.”
Chad stepped back, gazing down at her, his fists shoved into his pockets. “About what?”
“They’d fight, argue, bicker, drive each other crazy…”
“But…”
Willow’s heart swelled as she gazed out over their farm. “They love each other. It shows—deeper than I see in most families too. I got what was important to me, even when I was sure it couldn’t co-exist with reality.”
Chad and Willow strolled after the children, knowing exactly where to find them. As they neared the stream, Chad murmured, “It’s been over five years, lass. We going to make any changes?”
“What kind of changes?”
“Gardens, cattle, sheep—”
“Are you dissatisfied?” she whispered, her heart pounding at the idea of altering the current course of their lives.
“Not at all. But we did say we’d revisit it, and I’ve asked once a month since February. You’re avoiding it.”
“I don’t want anything to change—”
“Then we’ll leave it. Why wouldn’t we?” Chad stopped and pulled her close. Tipping her chin to see into her eyes, he searched for something. “I don’t understand.”
“I can see the boys might need something—more. Not yet. They’re just seven now, but someday…”
“Then we’ll try five more years of how things are, but this time we’ll let ourselves add things in if they like. There’s no reason not to try. Lucas wants pigs.”
Willow wrinkled her nose. “Stinky.”
“And he’ll have to keep them far away from the house and the barn,” Chad conceded. “When they’re twelve, we’ll consider increasing the gardens again so they will have more to keep themselves occupied.”
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 6 Page 29