Her mind was busy cataloguing the rest of the day’s responsibilities. At least the morning’s peach picking was done, and Zach would handle the semi coming in that night; but someone still had to go for more bushel baskets, look at the garden, oil and fuel the Massey for tomorrow… Then, too, Zach seemed to have this strange idea that the bills on the desk should at least be opened…the list kept rolling. By the time she came to the zillionth chore, another trickle of perspiration was sliding between her eyes, and she came to the logical conclusion that it was past time for a ten-minute break.

With a springy step, Bett wandered out of the plum orchard and up a knoll blanketed with clover and wildflowers. Whipping off her veiled straw hat-a makeshift beekeeper’s garb at best-she felt her baby-fine blond hair shiver down to her shoulders, the same baby-fine hair that had been ruthlessly confined to a rubber band that morning. Confined for about three minutes, anyway. Not that Bett hadn’t tried all ninety-nine hair products guaranteed to thicken and manage, but beyond hating the women in the hair-care commercials, she’d given up finding a cure for too-soft, too-fine hair. Now, she just let it have its way and tried to keep the style simple.

Another bead of moisture trickled down between her breasts and blended with a little peach fuzz left over from the morning’s picking. It itched. Actually, just about her whole body itched. Her jeans were sticking to her like miracle glue; the terry-cloth halter top was as absorbent as a towel; and if another soul were anywhere near her, she would be having an anxiety attack about deodorant fadeout.

But then, there wasn’t another soul around. Just past the rise of the clover field were the woods, nine luscious acres of ironwood and hickory and walnut-the same nine acres that could have been sold as timber to pay off their monstrous operating loan except that both Bett and Zach would sell their souls first. The woods held solace and silence; how could anyone sell that? In the spring, the ground there was carpeted with violets and trillium; in the fall, wild animals built shelters in the depths of leaves and hollows.