I also had the confidence that they were up for the task and had plenty of willing hands and strong bodies. And weapons as well. If they didn’t, well, that would be different, but they did. They had much more than most and they’d be okay. “I’d love to stay for a couple of days if you’ll allow me to, and if you have the food to spare. I’ll go over what I know about the land and the trees and anything else that might come in handy, and then I’ll take off.”

“We’ve pooled our food items in the old barn,” she said. “And we’re rationing for now, until we have more animals, and until the spring planting gets underway.”

“Wise,” I said.

She smiled and stood. “Come on, I’ll get you set up in the guest room. You must be exhausted.”

The guest room. Emily’s old room. She’d be everywhere, and though I knew it would hurt, I also desperately craved having any part of her surrounding me.

* * *

We’d eaten a rationed dinner of canned franks and beans, corn, and sourdough bread cooked over a campfire, and afterward, I wandered out back to the patio. It seemed virtually untouched from the fight that had been waged for this property, though it had aged over the years and obviously gone untended as the Swansons put all their work and focus into keeping the orchard alive. Weeds grew through the gaps in the pavers and the edging had moved so that it was now misshapen. The furniture was rusty and the planters, once overflowing with flowers, were now merely dirt. The only thing that did work was the solar lighting that twinkled around the space. I took a seat on the short rock wall, my heart heavy as I looked around.

The back door opened, and Mrs. Swanson stepped outside, smiling as she came toward me. “I’m going to clean this up in the spring,” she said. “It will be a nice space to gather again.” She sat down next to me. “We had so many good times out here, didn’t we?”

Something sharp pierced my heart, and though it hurt, it also made me smile. “I feel my mom out here,” I said. “And Em too.”

I pointed to the portion of patio where she’d always put on her performances for us. “I can still see her there and hear her voice. I knew, even then, that she’d be a star.”

I felt Mrs. Swanson’s gaze on the side of my face and turned toward her. “Oh…oh, you fell in love,” she said. It wasn’t a question; it was as though it’d been written on my face. And maybe it was. This was the one place, I supposed, where I couldn’t have kept my feelings for Emily inside even if I’d tried.