Past Forward Volume 1 (19 page)

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

Blowing a dandelion in her daughter’s face,
the woman chuckled. “I don’t know half as much as I want to, but
what I do know, I learned at school and then from reading after I
finished 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 to tend to, 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 whispered, “I guess they
just didn’t think of it.”

Her feet flew higher and higher into the air
before Willow flung herself from the swing, just as she had so many
years ago. The puppy tumbled over its own feet, rushing to greet
her, licking her chin and scratching her lightly with its sharp
claws and pouncing on her. She giggled and handed it a knotted
piece of denim—an old pant leg—to tug on as she lay back in the
grass.

Her mother’s death and the journals she now
read voraciously seemed to spark repeated trips into the memories
of her past. Mother taught her so much, and yet she felt as if she
knew so little. Would she be prepared to teach her child some day?
Would there ever be a child for her?

Lifelong daydreams of little boys—
her
little boys—hovered in her imagination again. Living on the farm,
raising pigs, sheep, or possibly dogs, she saw two tow-headed tykes
helping with the work and saying amusing things to make her smile.
How had she never imagined the father required to acquire those
boys? Was Santa Claus going to bring them? Did storks really drop
them in waiting bassinettes? Her shoulders slumped. No sons for
her—it couldn’t happen. Adoption though… Willow stood, brushing
grass and dandelion down from her clothes and children from her
thoughts. She had work to do.

In the barn, she grabbed a tool belt and
strapped it to her waist. The pup bounced around her heels, but she
knew the tiny animal couldn’t keep up with her, and she refused to
carry tools, wire, and a wriggling dog too. Willow shut the unhappy
dog 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, down the driveway, and along the highway. Cars whizzed
past, a few staring as they watched her. In cut-offs, sleeveless
blouse, and huge straw hat, she must have looked odd and wondered
if she should have worn something else. Strange how it had never
occurred to her how she looked before—strange indeed. Willow
dragged a burlap bag along behind her, filling it with the litter
she found stuck in the fencing and in the ditch that ran between
her fence line and the highway.

Even working at a steady pace, the task was
tedious, especially with the sun beating down on her. 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
netting 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. 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, entranced by the novelty of it. 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’d never seen anything
like the rabbit trails that started at defining
agape
and
ended in whether or not Abigail was dishonoring when she called her
husband a fool.

Darla Varney stood after the closing prayer,
explaining that the chief hadn’t been home for dinner before she
left, and she knew he was probably tired, hungry, and therefore
cranky. As she gathered her things, she caught Willow’s eye and
asked, “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.”

“Well, Bible study is over now so…”

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

A few hands fumbled with Bible covers, other
hands groped tote bags or purses to check if they even had one with
them, and Shannon surreptitiously reached behind her and pulled
hers from the shelf. Lee Wu stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s go to
The Daily Grind for dessert and coffee. I think you’re going to be
good for me.”

Willow followed, feeling somewhat confused,
and asked, “What just happened in there?”

Lee led her to a car as she spoke. “We got a
much needed two by four across our heads. Hop in.”

She paused, her heart yearning for the
fellowship of another woman, entranced by the novelty of one near
her age, but her well-ordered sense of responsibility protested.
She 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 there?”

“I’ll walk. I need to change my shoes,
though.”

Lee tugged her sleeve. “Come on. Have
dessert with me, and I’ll drop you off later.”

“I’m five miles east, but thanks.”

The car door squeaked as Lee opened it. “Oh
that’s not far at all. I’d love to.”

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, she 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 porch. Willow
groaned and gave Lee a sheepish look.

“It attacked me!”

“I’m sorry—” Lee couldn’t finish. All
attempts to stifle her chuckles failed. 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.”

The scrapes stung as Willow dabbed at them
on the small trek to the coffee shop. Each touch of cloth to face
produced another wince, a gasp, a groan. Lee apologized at regular
intervals until Willow begged her to stop. “It’s just a scrape. You
know how they sting at first. I won’t notice it in the
morning.”

Lee led her into the coffee shop, ordering
Willow an iced tea and chocolate chip chocolate cake. Between
bites, they laughed and knitted the first rows of friendship.
Willow described life on the farm, her hobbies and
responsibilities; Lee shared about small-town life and apartment
living. As she explained what she did as a stylist as Fairbury’s
most exclusive—in other words, only—hair salon, Willow shifted.
Eyes wide, Lee stopped mid-sentence. “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 it,
forcing the pieces to meet and blushed miserably. “I—”

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
I’m so sorry.” Lee passed a napkin. “Maybe…”

The door jangled as someone entered, and
both women jumped when Chad Tesdall’s voice called out in surprise,
“Willow! It
is
you! I saw you as I passed and—”All attempts
at nonchalance failed as she griped her shirt and refused to meet
anyone’s eyes. Seemingly oblivious, he continued. “—got to take
paperwork into Brunswick, want a ride home?”

Willow implored Lee with her eyes, 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. “I—”

“You can’t have her all the time. Some of us
want to get to know her too, so butt out, Officer Tesdall.”

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. I could never 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.”

“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 sounded doubtful as she said, “I don’t
think so.”

“Well, I know so. We’ve talked about it
some—not enough, though. He still hovers; I think he’s afraid I’ll
die of grief or something—as if that’s any of his business.”

Lee stood and carried their cups and plates
to the counter. As they pushed in their chairs to leave, she
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.”

Chad drove toward Brunswick lost in thought.
The sight of Willow in the company of someone else, having fun, and
clearly not wanting to ride home with him both relieved and
concerned him. Had he offended her? Was she aware of his resistance
to the obligation he still felt regarding her?