4

Lexie headed straight for Sprübeck’s. The bell over the door jangled and tiny Mrs. Sprübeck appeared from between some shelves.

“You’re back already!” she said. “I didn’t expect you until afternoon, what with farm chores.”

“I got the planting finished and don’t need to water today.”

Mrs. Sprübeck took in her dripping jacket and galoshes. “I guess you don’t at at that.”

Lexie took off the pack and opened it. The pack was made of some kind of oiled or waxed material, and the top rolled closed abnd buckled, keeping the interior nice and dry. Lexie pulled out the delivery receipt. “All signed and accounted for,” she said.

“Good work,” said Mrs. Sprübeck, taking the paper. “You can just hang the pack by the door and I’ll fetch your coins.”

Lexie hung up the pack, and while Mrs. Sprübeck was busy at the register, she gathered a few essential items into one of the woven shopping baskets. Bread, milk, oatmeal, half a dozen eggs. She added a jar of jam with a little cloth cover over the lid and a handwritten label, a wedge of cheese, and a few apples.

When Lexie approached the register Mrs. Sprübeck handed her a pouch with coins and an extra waxed paper package with what looked–and smelled–like half a dozen fresh doughnuts.

“For being so quick, and on such a miserable day too,” said Mrs. Sprübeck with a smile. They smelled delicious.

“Thank you,” said Lexie, salivating a little.

“Do you have a pack?” said Mrs. Sprübeck as she totaled up Lexie’s purchases, casting a doubtful eye at the weather.

“No,” said Lexie. She’d been looking at where a small assortment of packs hung on the wall. Most were smaller versions of the one she’d carried out to the lighthouse, made with the same waxed cloth.

She couldn’t afford one right now.

Mrs. Sprübeck frowned at the weather. “Your things will be ruined if you have to carry them through that.”

She Tylert and fished around under the counter for a moment and came up with an oilcloth sack. It was heavy, and bulky, and had a bit of a fishy smell.

“I’m afraid I can’t loan you a pack, but you can borrow this.”

“Thank you,” said Lexie, and meant it. “If you need any more deliveries made, let me know.”

“Well, hopefully my nephew Robbie will be back on his feet by the next time Nellie needs a delivery,” said Mrs. Sprübeck. “Twisted his knee, some kind of muscle pull. Put some potion on it, but Doc says the muscle will still be delicate for a week or two and not to overdo it, or Robbie risks pulling it again.” Mrs. Sprübeck shook her head, clearly indicating her thoughts on whether Robbie was likely to follow the doc’s recommendations.

Changing topic, she asked, “How was Nellie, by the way?”

“Fine,” said Lexie. “At least I think so. She didn’t say anything was the matter.”

“I was a touch worried when that storm came in, you on your way out there. Good you made it home before it rolled in proper.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” said Lexie. “I got there just as Nellie was lighting the lamp, and the storm came in. She let me stay over on her sofa.”

Mrs. Sprübeck nodded. “Would have been a bad night to be out, last night.”

Lexie thought about mentioning the creatures she’d seen. Or thought she’d seen. In the cold light of day, even a gloomy, rainy day, it seemed a little far fetched that a secret colony of sea people were kidnapping townspeople and no one except the lighthouse keeper had caught on to this.

Lexie didn’t feel like Nellie had been lying to her, or putting her on for fun. Nellie seemed sincere. But she was also alone at the lighthouse most of the time. That much seclusion could probably play tricks. And certainly the lightning had cast some frankly scary shadows the night before.

She decided not to mention the apparitions, or whatever it was, or Nellie’s explanation of it. She didn’t want to sound weird.

“Poor Nellie,” said Mrs. Sprübeck. “Stuck out there all alone like that. I do tell her she ought to come into town once in a while, that seeing people, treating herself to lunch once in a while, would do her a world of good. But she swears she can’t leave that lighthouse unattended. ‘You never know what might happen while I’m not there,’ she always says, ‘What if a fog rolls in, and I’m not there to sound the horn? Or what if I’m delayed, and don’t get the lamp lit in time?’

*I try to tell her she’s not meant to be on the job twenty four seven, but she takes her duty very seriously on account of the crash.”

“The crash?” asked Lexie.

“Oh, aye,” said Mrs. Sprübeck. “Must be about twenty years ago now. Storm came up sudden, middle of the day and it was about as dark as the middle of the night with the thick clouds and the rain. The lighthouse wasn’t lit, because why would it be, you’d never have believed there was a storm coming in from the clear skies just that morning.

“Nellie was in town while it happened. She raced back to the lighthouse as fast as she could, but the wind and the rain were something fierce. It took her longer than usual to get there, though get there she did, and get that lamp lit too.

“Most of the fleet hunkered down and waited it out where they were. Experienced fishermen know a storm like that, it’s not going to last. Last this one did though, for a few hours. Even the old timers admitted they were getting nervous, wondering if they’d made the right call as their boats were tossed about in the waves, and all their sails lowered.

“The crew of the /* ship name */ weren’t none too experienced. They were young, a joint venture between the Willis boys and Justin Harker. They should have known better, they were raised here after all. But they were young, green, afraid of losing their boat, and they broke for the harbour. Without the light to guide them in, in a storm like that. They stood no chance.”

Mrs. Sprübeck dabbed her eyes.

“No one blamed Nellie, of course. But she blamed herself just as much as if we had. Worse, maybe. If we had, she could have protested against it. Instead, she just carried it around with her, and it ate her up inside. She’s afraid to let that lamp go untended, so she stays out there.”

“Isn’t there anyone else who can take over?” said Lexie. At least give her an afternoon off?”

Mrs. Sprübeck shook her head. “There aren’t many she trusts. She taught your Aunt Martha how to run the lamp, and Martha would watch for her sometimes, when she was in Albatross Bay. She used to say she could read and write as well in Nellie’s kitchen as in her cabin. Martha was a lovely woman.”

“Maybe she’ll show me,” said Lexie.

“Maybe she will, at that.”

“I’ll ask,” said Lexie. “Thanks again, Mrs. Sprübeck. I’ll bring your bag back.”

“No rush, dear.”

The bell tinkled again as Lexie pushed through the door, back out into the rainy day. Next stop, Nathan Barlow’s office.

She entered the subdued waiting area of the lawyer’s office and carefully brushed the drops from her bag and jacket in the entryway before she hung up the rain slicker on the coat stand near the door. She was conscious that she was wearing yesterday’s clothes, and though the rain slicker had kept the rain off, the thick waterproof fabric had caused her to sweat, and she felt damp and sticky and altogether unpresentable.

Camilla clearly shared her opinion. She looked Lexie over, gave a sniff, which made Lexie self conscious that in addition to being damp and sticky she was also smelly, and said, “Do you have an appointment.” in a way that made it clear she already knew the answer.

“No,” said Lexie, “I was hoping to just ask Mr. Barlow a question about some of my aunt’s property.”

“Mr. Barlow is extremely busy.”

“It’ll just take a minute,” Lexie pressed. “I think there’s some property I haven’t been able to locate.”

“Fine, I’ll see if Mr. Barlow has a moment.”

She pressed a button on the phone on her desk and picked up the handset.

“Mr. Barlow, Lexie /LAST NAME/ is here. She doesn’t have an appointment.”

Camilla listened to the handset for a moment and her expression soured slightly. “Yes, I’ll tell her.”

She put the handset down. “You can go in,” she said, just as the door to Barlow’s office opened.

Nathan Barlow was dressed slightly more casually. He still wore slacks, and a button down shirt and tie, but his sleeves were rolled up, and she could see his suit jacket hung over the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Lexie, “I know you must be busy.”

“Not at all.” He cast a ruefull glance at a stack of papers on his desk. “Well, maybe a little. But nothing I don’t welcome an interruption from. What can i do for you?”

“I’ve heard around town my aunt had a bicycle. I haven’t found one at the cabin, though. I don’t suppoe she took it back and forth with her.”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Nathan. “I know the bicycle. It was an old fashioned thing. Powder blue frame. And you say it’s not at the cabin?”

“No, so I was wondering if she had some kind of storage location? A shed or something? I don’t actually know the extent of the property.”

Nathan turned to one of the wooden file cabinets and began digging through the folders there. “I don’t believe she had a shed. I remember seeing the bicycle leaned up against the side of the cabin when Martha was here, but I don’t know what she did with it when she left. If I thought about it at all, I’d probably have guessed she just put it indoors.”

“It’s definitely not in the cabin,” said Lexie.

“Ah-ha!” said Nathan, pulling a piece of paper out of a folder.

He put it down in a relatively clear spot on his desk. “This is the survey map of the property. As you can see, it’s a good size.”

“Is this red the boundary line?” asked Lexie.

“That’s correct,” said Nathan.

“That’s a lot bigger than I thought.”

The trail, which she had initially thought was the property line, actually ran through her property. The boundary extended all the way down the cliffs to the ocean front, and stretched into the forest on either side of the clearing around the cabin, and all the way up to the road that ran out to Perception Point.

“It’s a good sized piece of land,” agreed Nathan. He studied the drawing. “I don’t see anything that looks like another building, but this is the map from when Martha bought the property. She could have had a shed built. Though I would think it would be near the cabin if she did.”

“That would make sense,” agreed Lexie. “Well, I guess the missing bicycle remains a mystery for now.”

“Martha would have taken that phrase, and in short order had a whole new book,” said Nathan.

“Could I have a copy of this?” asked Lexie.

“Sure,” said Nathan. “Hold on a minute.”

He took the sheet of paper to the door. “Camilla, can you make a copy of this please? Thanks.”

Camilla appeared briefly in the door, looking both more goth and more sulky than she had a few minutes earlier when Lexie had entered the office.

She wasn’t sure what she’d done to displease Camilla. Maybe it was just the resting goth face that made her seem like she hated Lexie.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” said Nathan. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, you’ve done lots. I’ll have a look around and see if I can find the bicycle somewhere. There’s nowhere in town she might have kept it? A rented garage or anything?”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“I don’t believe so,” said Nathan. “Though she might have left it with someone when she was out of town. I can ask around.”

“I’d appreciate it,” said Lexie.

At the door, Nathan Barlow looked out at the dubious weather. “Are you sure you’ll be all right in this?”

“Oh sure, I’m going to the diner for lunch before I walk home, and maybe the library.”

He looked again at the overcast sky. “Don’t stay out too late, it gets dark fast on days like this, and the trail along the cliffs can be treacherous when it’s wet and dark.”

“I’ll be home well before dark,” she assured him.

In the diner, Lexie hung her wet slicker near the door and slid into a vinyl booth. She had her pick; the lunch rush was over and dinner hadn’t yet begun. She had the grilled cheese and tomato soup, and drank about 3 cups of fresh, dark coffee.

“What a day,” said Iris, making conversation as she refilled ketchup bottles from a large jug.

“Sure is,” agreed Lexie. The soup was delicious. The rain showed no sign of letting up. With the extra coins in her pocket, she was considering whether to have a slice of pie and another cup of coffee before she went to the library.

No, she decided. Library first, then she could have a slice of pie and another coffee before she walked home.

The quest board outside the library still held the lost cat notice. Sprübeck’s notice was gone. There was a new notice up on the board:

Mushrooms needed!

One basket fresh picked /* mushrooms */ from the Blackwood grove needed!

Pay 50 coins

See Iris and /* Iris’s Husband */ at the diner

Lexie grabbed a copy of the notice and the lost cat notice for good measure. She’d keep an eye out for the little fellow.

The library was a good place to be, since she had no idea what the /* mushrooms */ in the notice looked like.

Inside, there was a long row of coat hooks. At the far end hung a blue rain coat and a pair of flowered galoshes stood underneath. Lexie envied the galoshes and made a note to add a pair to her wardrobe as soon as possible. Her clothing from /* Tanooki City */ wasn’t suited to the island weather.

Inside the library was warm and dry and smelled faintly of paper and clue and ink. Even the rustling Lexie made taking off her slicker seemed loud. She hung her coat and set her shopping bag on the shelf above. She hoped her boots wouldn’t make too much of a mess, and she ventured into the library proper.

Phyllis was at her desk, sorting cards in a drawer.

She looked up when Lexie came in. “Oh hello, Lexie,” she said in a soft voice. “Anything I can help you with today?”

“Actually yes, I was wondering if there’s a book with mushroom identification or anything? I have a notice from the questboard outside for picking mushrooms in the Blackwood, but I don’t know what they look like. Or where the Blackwood is for that matter.”

Phyllis chuckled softly. “Well, the second part is easy, over here…” she left behind the counter and led Lexie to a corner where a large map hung. It was aged and spotted, clearly old, and appeared to be printed on leather rather than paper. Lexie noticed Phyllis was careful not to touch it as she pointed out an area to Lexie.

“This is a map of Albatross Bay. The village itself is here, but the Township extends quite a way. Your cabin is here.” she pointed at a tiny square near the coast.

Up close, the map was so finely drawn that it seemed like each building had unique details. She imagined if she looked at her cabin with a magnifying glass, it would be an exact portrayal of how her cabin looked from above.

“I didn’t realize the cabin was that old. This map, looks really old,” said Lexie.

“Oh, the map is extremely old,” confirmed Phyllis. “The cabin is quite old, but not as old as the map. The map updates.”

“Oh,” said Lexie, looking at the map with interest. Yes, she could see the diner on Main Street, and that was definitely a newer building than the map.

“So here by your cabin, this forest. If you head along toward here…” Phyllis traced her finger through the air over the map toward the base of some cliffs. “You’ll come to the Blackwood Grove. This is technically your land.”

“It is?” Lexie had realized at the solicitors that her land was much larger than she’d realized but not that it was as big as that. Seeing it on the map with the rest of the village for scale surprised her.

“Technically, it’s attached to the cabin. But this whole area–” Phyllis indicated a large wooded area, “Is in a protected trust. Martha wanted to see the local environment protected, so Nathan Barlow set it up. I don’t know the legal details, but it made some folks angry. And pleased others.”

“It’s alright to pick mushrooms there though, right?”

“Oh yes,” said Phyllis. “Mushrooms and berries, and other forage, as long as you don’t destroy the plants. No hunting or trapping or logging though.”

“I’ll have to ask Nathan Barlow about it,” said Lexie. “He didn’t mention any trust or protected land to me. I wonder if I have to do anything.”

“He would know,” said Phyllis. “Now over here,” she led Lexie to a shelf in the nonfiction section. “We have books on the local flora and fauna. Here…” Phyllis ran her finger along the spines of the books. “Ah-ha!”

Mushrooms of / ISLAND Island /

It was a glossy book with color photos. There was a long text section explaining the different facets of mushrooms, and sketches showing different kinds of caps and gills and stalks.

Then there were pages on each kind of mushroom found on the island. Flipping through, Phyllis found the page with the mushrooms Lexie was looking for. They were small and golden, with a slender stalk and a cap that grew upward in a cup shape.

“This is what you’ll be looking for,” Phyllis said.

Lexie took out her mobile to take a photo. “Just borrow the book, dear,” said Phyllis, smiling. “This is a library after all.”

Lexie laughed. “All right, that’s a good idea. Maybe I can learn some other kinds of mushrooms too.”

Phyllis carried the book back to the desk, pulled a card out of a paper pocket, and stamped both with a date.

Lexie thanked her and before she left, slid the book into the waterproof bag with her groceries.

Then it was back into the rain. She decided not to stop at the diner. There were the donuts Mrs. Sprübeck had given her in the bag and there was coffee at the cabin. She would start a fire anyway to take off the chill and damp.

Lexie thought of Nelly’s shower with envy. And her icebox. Once the farm started to pay, she would be able to put on that addition Robert had shown her the permission for and have a real bathroom, and a kitchen too. She wondered if she could order a stove like Nellie’s through Sprübeck’s.

In the meantime, she would keep taking odd jobs from the quest board.

The walk was wet, and Lexie was damp and chilled to the skin by the time she reached the cabin. She took off all her wet things at the door, and set the sack on the table. Then she wrapped herself in the blanket while she started the fire.

Outdoors, the rain began coming down harder. It pattered on th roof,a nd though it was only mid afternoon, the sky was blanketed with thick dark clouds that made it feel like evening.

Lexie looked speculatively out the window. All the walking in the rain, and the heavy slicker, had made her feel sticky and sweaty. What she wanted was another shower, and there was one right outside her door.

A cold shower, admittedly. But she had a warm fire going, and it would be nice to be clean. She put a chair next to the door, put the worn towel she’d found in one of aunt Martha’s chests on it, and dropped her blanket on the floor in front of the fire where it would warm. Then she grabbed her bar of soap, and opened the door.

Lexie stuck her head out first and surveyed the trail. No one. Not that she expected anyone in this weather. But given she was about to run naked in the rain, literally, she decided to make sure she didn’t have an audience.

The coast was clear, and Lexie stepped out onto the wooden porch. The wood was wet but the sloped roof stopped it from falling on her, and she hopped down the steps. They were cold on her bare feet, and the gravel on the ground was pointy. She hopped to the grass, and then ran around the side of the house. If anyone should happen by, they wouldn’t see her.

She was shivering in the cold, and quickly soaped herself. The rain came down hard, and rinsed her. For a moment, she turned her face up, and let the cold water run over it. Then she was done, and, teeth chattering, she ran back around the house and into the door.

The inside of the small cabin was warm and welcoming after the rain. The fire crackled cheerfully, and Lexie dropped the soap in the small wooden box where she kept it and picked up the towel. She rubbed herself dry and pulled on the hoodie and shorts she wore in the cabin and wrapped herself in the blanket.

The water was boiling, and she poured it into the single cup press that had been Aunt Marthas and got the bag of donuts.

She sat cross legged on the rag rug in front of the hearth and drank her coffee and ate her donut. The grease had soaked through the white paper bag, making it translucent. Lexie had another donut.

There was nothing to do in the field, nothing she wanted to do outside. She hadn’t slept much the night before. When she had finally slept, it had been good sleep. But not enough of it.

She lit the oil lamp on the mantel and got the library books and lay down on the bed, her head at the foot, toward the fire and mantel, spreading the blanket over her.

Lexie decided to study the mushroom book first. If the weather was good tomorrow, she would check her crops, and then go hunting mushrooms. The pay was good, and it was closer than the lighthouse. She looked at the page for the mushrooms she was looking for. It said they grew at the base of blackwood trees, preferring the mulch of fallen leaves. Unfortunately, the leaves of blackwood trees turned a tawny golden colour in autumn. Almost exactly the colour of the mushrooms.

Well, Lexie would just have to hope that last autumn’s leaves had browned and darkened and the mushrooms would be easy to spot.

She flipped through, looking at some of the other types of mushrooms she might find. She didn’t want to take the book with her into the wood, it being a library book. But she decided she’d bring back some of any other mushrooms she found and identify them. She did make a note that the ones with bright red caps and blue spots were poisonous. Those would be easy to stay away from, they were very distinctive.

She put aside the mushroom book and picked up the farming book. She’d been so busy, she’d only had a chance to skim the information she needed immediately. Now it was time to read more about the skill trees, and what her options might be down the road.

She was too tired to focus on the whole text so she skipped around to the parts that interested her.

Specializations

Once you’ve reached Level 5, you’ll have the opportunity to pick your first specialization. By now you should have a good idea what kind of farming you enjoy. Do you like working with plants or animals? I hope you know, because level 5 is when you choose. From here on, most of your boosts and buffs will apply to either farming plants, or farming animals.

Your base buff is a 10% increase in either animal crops production – wool, milk, eggs, and so on – or 10% increased yield in your plant crops.

That was pretty standard across every class. Every five levels, you had a choice. So up through level 4, she would be a [Farmer] and when she leveled up to 5, Lexie would have to make a choice: [Greenthumb] or [Ranch hand]. At level 10, she would have two more choices, and so on.

Sometimes there were three choices, or sometimes taking a certain class or path had enough synergy with another class the person already had that it would unlock a hybrid class, called a Tier 2 class. These were, for the most part, pretty well documented, but surprising combinations still occurred from time to time.

The rarer classes were Tier 3, which unlocked through the right combination of 3 or more classes. Tier 3s were less well known, and the people who unlocked them often guarded the combination for themselves, or sold it for a chunk of money. Guides to unlocking tier 3 classes were bestsellers.

Like most self help books, though, they were more aspirational tokens than life changing experiences. Sure, you could get a class 3 by following the plan and taking the right class combos, but there was no shortcut to earning and leveling those classes. You still had to do the work.

Tier 3 classes were reproducible though, unlike the rarest tier of classes. Those were the Uniques. They unlocked similar to tier 3s, but they weren’t reproducible. There was some other element involved beyond just triggering a level with the right class combination.

A lot of work had been put into studying the unique classes. There would be loads of money in being able to learn how to duplicate them. But so far no one had. There were all kinds of theories as to what might cause a unique. Some other factor in the stats, most likely. But no one had been able to work it out. And so those classes remained unique.

And of course, the only way of knowing if a class was unique was in trying to duplicate a tier 3. If it was possible to repeatedly unlock the class with the right class combo, it was tier 3. If it wasn’t possible to trigger the class unlock with the right combination of classes, then it was unique. But knowing what the class combination that triggered it was depended on the reporting of the person who unlocked it.

There were a number of experiments in class progression, a few famous, and many less so, that followed people, willing test subjects through their lives. Most of them were only minimally intrusive. Every six months or year, the subject volunteers would report in their current classes and levels. If new tier 2 or 3, or unique classes unlocked, then there was a tail of progression that didn’t require the person to guess.

The other thing that made Tier 2 and Tier 3 classes so valuable was that they combined into your highest level of the combination classes, while keeping many of the buffs from all the component classes either as original, or in a modified form, from those classes. This essentially freed up those class slots.

Lexie skimmed the perks of the various documented farm class trees

[Farmer] Level 5: [Ranch hand] [Field hand] Level 10: [Cowpoke] [Tiger King] | [Flower farmer] [Orchard master] [Breadbasketeer] Level 15: Level 20: Level 25: Level 30:

Lexie didn’t really want to deal with animals. She knew that already. She might consider a coop with a few chickens, eventually. Very eventually. But that would be eggs for her own use, not a commercial crop.

She was pretty set on choosing Field hand at Level 5. The level 5 buff wasn’t very much, just a 10% boost to yield in your chosen area. It was the level 10 classes that interested her more. Farming plants had 3 choices at level 10. [Breadbasketeer] was the safe choice. It specialized in growing food crops. She could chose [Flower Farmer], which specialized in growing ornamental plants that could be sold as decorations, or to garden centers. Lexie liked the idea of that. She imagined the field around her cabin filled with flowers. [Orchardmaster] also had a lot of appeal. She imagined the open field around the cabin filled with apple trees or cherry trees. She read a little more and discovered that [Orchard master] combined with some [Brewer] levels could unlock the Tier 2 [Vintner] class. That had definite possibility too.

It wasn’t a decision she would need to make for a while though. Level 10 was a long way off, even if she did nothing but farm every day.

She skipped to the section on skills.

Skills were acquired separately from classes. Like you could have points in the skill “cooking” without being a [Cook], and plenty of people did. But to be a [Cook] you must have points in the cooking skill. It was necessary to unlock the first class level. Most class unlocks weren’t as simple as just having points in a single skill. They required multiple skills, usually 3-5, from a pool of eligible skills. Some classes could be unlocked with a wide variety of skills. Like your basic [Builder] class could be unlocked with any three skills from a pool of two dozen.

Often three to 5 levels in the necessary skills were required to unlock the class as well. Having the class would make the associated pre-exisiting skills more effective. Essentially, if you were a [Cook] you were a better cook than someone with the same number of levels in the skill, but who didn’t have the class. Your food would be better.

Lexie pulled up her own stats.

/* insert stats sheet here maybe */

It would be a while before she had to make a choice. She wasn’t sure which she would choose, either. She knew she didn’t want to take care of animals. A few chickens, maybe a cow for her own personal eggs and milk. But she didn’t want a whole farm of them. Growing food crops seemed the way to go for now. Hard as the work was, she’d discovered she really enjoyed planting the field. She felt good at the end of the day in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The fresh air and sunshine, and physical work tired her out, but in a wholesome way, not a too little sleep, too little activity way.

There was nothing to do in her little cabin but sleep. There wasn’t the wed or constantly checking her social media. There was just the distant sound of the sea on rocks, maybe the wind rattling through the trees or rain pattering on the metal roof of the cabin, and the crackle of the fire. She had the books from the library to read. She could record her journal. But she was alone, and it was quiet.

She flipped through the mushroom book to the page the librarian had shown her, and memorized the information. The mushroom was very distinctive, she didn’t think it would be easy to mistake it.

Lexie closed the books and set them on the table, then she ate another donut – they weren’t going to get any fresher, she told herself – and pulled on her slicker and stuffed her feet into the wellies by the door, and went outside to the pump to brush her teeth and fetch a fresh bucket of water for her morning coffee. She came in shivering from the damp and cold on her bare legs, but inside the cabin was warm and cozy.

Then she turned down the lamp, crawled under the blankets, and fell asleep to the crackling of the logs in the fireplace as the dim glow cast long shadows.