Colette stared at her boots and coat, wondering why on earth she was wearing them in bed. Then it all came flooding back: the storm, and the light, and the strange lady in the night. And now... birdsong? She listened carefully, holding her breath in concentration. It was peaceful, though—no wind howling, nothing thudding against her house, not even the sound of rain. All she could hear was the music of songbirds and the rhythm of waves rolling to and fro on the shore and the cacophony of crows and gulls. Half falling out of her bed, Colette stumbled to her back door and flung it wide open.

The sun was just rising, the first few rays creeping softly over the distant hills of the mainland along the eastern horizon. A gentle breeze tickled her nose as she stepped outside to stare in wonder at the cloudless sky.

However, as it grew lighter, she could see the effects of the storm all around her. Although many of her crops appeared to have survived, there were a number of uprooted corn stalks flung about her fields, and she even spotted a few stuck in the upper limbs of the trees behind her barn. Most of the tomatoes had been ripped from their vines, too, but although much of the cloth covering her melons had torn free, the vines and fruit seemed mostly intact.

She ran through her fields to her barn first, and stopped in surprise when she flung the door open. The cattle were all calmly turning their heads to look at her, eagerly lowing in anticipation of a milking and a meal. Her sheep were lying in a huddle, still sleeping, and Kep lay stretched out on his cushion, his eyes opening to look at her but otherwise motionless.

Nestled up against his belly, burrowed down into his fur, were two tiny sleeping creatures.

Child-like in form but a fraction the size, one had orange hair and was wrapped in doll-sized clothing reminiscent of marigold blossoms. She couldn't tell if the creature was male or female or neither, but it had delicate features and long, slender limbs and fingers. The other had bright yellow hair and wore yellow clothes that looked like golden jonquils, and was plumper and shorter than the other. The orange-clad creature woke first, stretching as it yawned tremendously. It looked up, saw Colette looking at them, and elbowed its companion awake.

"Psst! Primmy!" it hissed, "Wake up! We overslept, Primmy. Careful, the human's here—we'll have to sneak out when it's not looking!"

"Umm... I'm right here," Colette said, baffled. "I can hear you, you know."

Both creatures jumped, clinging to each other in surprise. "Y-you can hear us?" the yellow one squeaked. "C-can you see us, too?"

"Uhhh... yes? I can see as well as I can hear. What are you? You're too small to be children."

"She can see us!" the orange gasped in awe. "Human, don't you know what that means?"

"Nooo, I can't say I do," Colette replied, more baffled than ever.

"It means the Harvest Goddess herself has set her mark upon you!"

"The... say what?" she said, stunned.

"The Harvest Goddess, human! We're sprites, her servants. She sent me to protect your fields, though I guess I didn't do such a good job at that. Sorry—I'm kind of new to all this. She also sent Cinny to calm your cows and sheep down, and Nero to calm your chickens, and Cota to calm your horse. If you can see us, that can only mean you've been chosen to receive her special blessing. Wait and see—you'll be a top-notch farmer for sure!"

"O-okay, well... uhh, thanks?" she said, backing slowly toward the door. "I-I'd better go check on the rest of my animals. Thanks for your, uhh, for your help." Then she opened the door and quickly stepped out, almost slamming the door behind her in her haste.

"Dreaming. That's it, I'm definitely dreaming. All that with the glowing green woman, and the hurricane disappearing overnight, and those... those sprite-things. It's all just a dream. Any minute now, I'll wake up. Aaaaanyyy minute..." she muttered to herself, thumping the heel of her hand against her forehead as she headed toward her coop.

Inside, the hens were as calm as if there'd never been a storm. She looked high and low, searching the entire coop, but there was no sign of any odd creatures.

Finally she gave up and went to the stable. Quietly sliding the great door open, she looked inside. Arthur was standing calmly in his stall, and he whickered softly when he saw her. Just outside his stall, on a makeshift bed on the floor, Will was slumped against Arthur's stall door, still sound asleep. Sadie was curled up back to back with him, and although Colette couldn't see much of her, she could see her tail begin to thump against the floor.

Awakened by the dog's movement against him, Will opened one bleary eye and looked up at her uncomprehendingly as she stood smiling at him. Then he woke up the rest of the way, sitting up and returning her smile drowsily.

"Good morning," he yawned as he struggled stiffly to his feet and stretched.

"Morning," she replied. "How'd it go in here?"

"Is it over?" he said, looking through the open door behind her in confusion. "I wasn't sure it would ever end. We're all fine. Arthur panicked a little, but then something seemed to click and he quieted right down. I fell asleep a while after that. I-I'm not still dreaming... am I?" he asked, looking at her with half-dazed awe. The rising sun threw a beam of bright light slanting through one of the eastern windows, and it bathed her in a soft glow, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance.

She smiled and shook her head. "I don't think so. If you are, then so am I." She thought for a moment, then decided not to mention the sprites and the lady in the night—it all sounded too crazy. "Want some breakfast?"

"That sounds wonderful," he said as he gathered up his things. "Cold beef stew straight from the can might keep one alive, but it's not exactly haute cuisine."

Colette giggled and reached for one of his bags. "No, I would think not. Want a shower first? I need to do my chores before I start breakfast."

"That, too, sounds divine. As does a soft chair and an aspirin," he added, grimacing as he lifted the other bag.

"Well, follow me, and you can have all those things," she laughed. "Do you have a change of clothing?"

"I do—I grabbed a few things, not knowing how long I'd be holed up."

Back at her cabin, she grabbed a few fresh towels and a washcloth and handed them to him, then left to take care of her animals. As she walked through the pasture, she stopped to clear some of the debris from it, tossing it over the fence into her fields. Looking around as she milked her cows, she saw no sign of the two sprites she thought she'd seen earlier. Perhaps it really had been her imagination, she thought with a shrug as she set the milk can near the door. Then she had her dogs herd her livestock outside while she got to work cleaning out the mess. After that, she went to the coop and gathered the eggs, surprised that there were any, and put her hens out to scratch for insects in their yard. Finally, she led Arthur out to graze in his paddock.

She carried the milk and eggs to her cabin, since Taro had removed her shipping container and stored it along with his over in a lean-to shed behind his house. It was a tight fit, but she managed to get all the milk into her fridge. Fortunately, the fresh-laid eggs wouldn't need refrigeration for a while.

As she was rearranging things to make room for the milk, Will stepped out, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, still toweling his damp hair. "Much better," he said with a satisfied sigh. He reached back through the doorway and hung the towel on a hook, asking "Can I help with anything?"

"No, but thanks. I think I've got it under control. I just need to squeeze this into the fridge, then I'll get cooking. Go ahead and make yourself at home," she replied, glancing over at him with a smile.

He settled down on her sofa with another sigh, then picked up a book of photography. "Nigel Rockford," he commented as he opened it. "I've seen some of his photographs on display. They're quite good."

"Yes," she replied distractedly as she carefully poured milk into a measuring cup. "He's very talented. And really quite a nice guy, too."

"You know him?" Will said, looking up in surprise.

Startled, Colette looked over her shoulder at him. "Huh? Oh! Uhh, yes, I met him at a gallery. Do you like plain pancakes, or blueberry?"

"I like both, so whichever you prefer is fine with me," he said, turning his attention back to the book.

Soon they were sitting down to a breakfast of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, poached eggs, bacon, coffee, and orange juice. "These are fantastic," he exclaimed between bites. "Do I detect a hint of orange?"

"Yes, I add a little zest to the batter. It goes so well with the blueberries and the maple."

"Yes, it really does," he replied, taking another bite.

When they were done, he helped her wash up, and they headed out to see how the rest of the town and his boat had weathered the storm.

The bridge was undamaged, so they crossed over to Sprout Island. At first glance, there didn't seem to be as much damage as they had feared. A few trees lay across the path to the dock, and there were a few shingles scattered around. Natalie stood nearby, in deep conversation with Julia, and when Colette called out a greeting to them, they turned to her with distressed faces.

"What's happened?" she asked as she hurried up to them. "Is someone hurt?"

"Well..." Natalie said, glancing at Julia.

"Mama's barn collapsed in the storm," Julia said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Mostly it's used by Vaughn, for him to board his animals when he's in town. But...." She flung her arms around Natalie's neck and began to sob loudly into her shoulder.

Patting her back in sympathy, Natalie continued. "Julia's little cat disappeared shortly before the storm, you see. We looked and looked, but we couldn't find her anywhere. It looks like she took refuge in the barn, and... and she died when it fell over."

"Oh, that's awful!" Colette exclaimed in dismay, her eyes filling with tears as she reached out a hand to her friend. "I'm so sorry, Julia."

"That's not even all of it," Natalie said. "She was pregnant, you know, and she had her kittens during the storm. Five of them. Two of them... two of them didn't make it. Three survived the storm, but without their mother...."

"I'll take one, if you'll let me. I love cats. I don't know how to care for one that young, but I can learn, and I'm never short on milk at home."

"Would you?" Julia exclaimed, looking up at her. "I figured I could raise one, maybe even two, but I just wasn't sure if I could handle all three of them while they're so little. They'll need so much care, and between cleaning up from the storm and helping Mama with the shop...."

"Of course! Can I see them?" she asked, feeling her heart fluttering in anticipation as she followed the girls into Mirabelle's shop.

She'd never seen such tiny kittens. They almost looked more like little mice than kittens, until one reached out with a tiny little paw, spread its wee little toes wide, and mewled the bittiest, squeakiest mewl she could imagine possible. That did it—she was utterly smitten. When Julia, who recognized the signs of infatuation on her face, lifted the tiny creature up and gently set it in her cupped hands, she sighed deeply as she nestled it against her cheek.

"What will you call him?" Julia asked with a big grin.

"Is it a boy? I can't tell," Colette replied, peering at the kitten.

Stifling a giggle, Julia turned him over onto his back. "This-a-way, Farmer Lamb," she said with a smirk.

"Oh! So he is!" she exclaimed, laughing despite her red face. "Well, I don't know. I could choose a stormy kind of name, but I think I'd rather call him TC."

"TC? What's that mean?" Natalie exclaimed.

"It's short for Too Cute! Isn't he just precious?" she cooed, turning to hand him to Will.

He backed a step away, holding up his hands as he exclaimed, "Don't hand that tiny creature to me—I'm afraid I'll hurt him!" He laughed as Colette snuggled the kitten back against her cheek, saying, "He is a cute little thing, though I confess I'm more of a dog person."

"Here," Julia said, turning to the shelves in the shop. "You'll need a few things. Fresh cream from your cows will do for now, but you'll need to feed him with an eye dropper until he can lap it up on his own. And you'll have to feed him often—every few hours, even at night. As he gets bigger, he'll be able to eat more at once and won't need to eat as often. And you'll have to keep him nice and cozy. Kittens are meant to snuggle up together to keep warm, but he won't have his siblings to share body heat with. If you have a spot near a heater or wood stove, that should work. If not, just be sure he has lots of warm bedding. And you'll need to change the bedding often—he won't be old enough to learn to use a litter box for several weeks."

"Would little scraps of wool from my sheep work for bedding? It's warm, and I can wash it out to reuse it. I have a small sack full that I've gathered from their pen after shearing."

"Yeah, that would be perfect. Maybe put an old towel down underneath to soak up any messes, if you have one? Well, I'm sure I have one I can give you. Just use a small box or basket or something."

"I think I have a box that'll work for now. Thanks, Julia!" she exclaimed as she took the bag of supplies. "I'll let you know if I have any questions or problems."

They took everything back to her cabin, and while she heated a little milk in a pan and sat down to feed her kitten, using an eyedropper from her bathroom cabinet, Will made up a little bed from a sturdy shoebox, Julia's old hand towel, and several handfuls of fluffy wool and set it near the register between the bed and the loveseat. As soon as the kitten stopped its frantic kneading and sucking at the eyedropper, it started falling asleep, its tiny head weaving as though its neck couldn't support the weight any longer. Colette dabbed the droplets of milk from his chin and nestled him down into his new bed. Within seconds, it was fast asleep.

Moving quietly, she and Will stepped back outside and softly closed the door. Then they returned to the village to check his boat and see if anyone needed help.

"Thanks for making TC's bed for me," she said as they crossed the bridge. She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Of course," he replied, squeezing her hand back. "He's a lucky little fellow."

His boat had fared better than he'd feared. The sudden reversal in the wind direction had caused some high waves along the eastern shore of Sprout Island, but nothing as severe as the waves the hurricane itself had caused along the southwest. It had taken on some water, and there was some water damage, especially to Arthur's stall. But all of that was repairable or replaceable. The only other damage had been to Denny's shack on the beach. He was so close to the water, and he hadn't fortified it against winds blowing from the east, as that hadn't been a concern at the time. It still stood, but it was now in a state of semi-collapse.

Denny being Denny, however, he just shrugged it off with a smile. "At least I've still got my fishing pole and my dory!" he said cheerfully as he boxed up his few possessions. A fellow fisherman, Martin, had offered to put him up in his little cottage across from Gannon's shop until the repairs on his shack were finished. Colette offered to help him pay for them—an offer which he initially refused, but when she insisted, he gave in, conceding that her assistance would be a big help.

Once they had assured themselves that there were no great losses, other than Mirabelle's barn and Julia's pet, Colette invited Will back to her place for dinner.

TC woke up as they walked in, nosing around and mewling in his tiny voice. So first thing, she warmed some more milk and settled down to feed him while Will sat beside her on the loveseat.

"So what will you do? Since you can't stay on your yacht in its current condition, that is," she asked without looking up from her task.

"I suppose I'll stay in the hotel for now," he mused. "I'll need to arrange for a boatyard to come and take it away to make the repairs."

"I'm glad it wasn't damaged any worse," she said, "though I'm sorry it was damaged at all."

"Don't trouble yourself over it," he replied, smiling. "I was getting bored with the décor anyway, so I'll have them refurbish the interior while they're at it."

"Hopefully nothing important to you was damaged?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Oh, one or two little mementos are perhaps a trifle worse for the wear. But nothing too dreadful. And as you say, it could have been worse."

"Would you like help boxing up your things before you send your boat to the yard?" she asked, looking back down at TC and smiling at the way he was kneading with all his little might. So she didn't see him blanch for a brief moment.

"No. Thank you very kindly, but I can manage. And you've got your hands full, anyway," was all he said.

"I can always make time to help someone in need," she laughed, looking sideways at him through half closed eyes, "especially if that someone is important to me."

For dinner, she served pasta with a creamy sauce, salad, and chilled pinot grigio, followed by coffee with Grand Marnier topped with fresh whipped cream. They took their coffees outside and strolled over to the bridge, where they sat down, dangling their legs over the edge of the bridge as it swayed slightly in the evening breeze.

"Thank you for all you've done for me—taking Arthur in, allowing me to stay with him in the stable for the duration of the storm, and of course, for feeding me and letting me use your shower today."

"Of course," she replied, slightly surprised.

He leaned a shoulder against the railing of the bridge, looking intently at her as he sipped his coffee. "You're really a very kind person, aren't you?"

She blinked, then took a large sip of her drink, confused and embarrassed. "I... I don't know how to answer that. I mean, I try to be, but I don't know if I really succeed. I haven't always tried—in my past... well, having a good time and looking out for myself always seemed to be my top priorities, same as everyone else I knew. But then... something happened. And that caused me to take a good, hard look at my life, to reevaluate my priorities, my lifestyle—everything. And of course, when I came here, everyone was so kind and helpful and just plain friendly. I was ready to make a change anyway, and the people here made it very easy for me."

They finished their drinks and returned to her cabin. She took the mugs, but then Will started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she asked, looking at him quizzically.

"You are—funny and adorable. You have a whipped cream mustache," he replied with a grin. She started to reach her fingers up, but he caught her hand. "May I?"

She blinked in surprise, then nodded. He took the mugs from her hand and set them on a table, then he leaned down and gently licked the cream from just beneath her nose, the tip of his tongue just barely caressing her lip and sending little shivers down her spine. She put her arms around his neck to pull him in a little closer, kissing him eagerly. Backing up until he bumped into the loveseat, he sat down, pulling her along with him and onto his lap.

Their kisses grew more intense, more eager, as they each explored the taste and feel of the other. But when Will gently slid his hand up her side toward her breast, she pulled back with a little gasp, and shook her head.

"No. I'm sorry, I... talking about my past has brought it all back. I'm not ready for more than... than..."

He released her and smiled wistfully at her. "Don't apologize, my dear Colette. Never apologize. Didn't I say that you would set the pace? I meant it, with all my heart. What pleasure would there be for either of us, if you were pressured into giving more than you were ready to give? Some things should never be rushed, and this is one of them."

She smiled gratefully at him and slid off his lap. Patting her leg, he rose. "However, it's getting late. I should go now. I still need to make arrangements with Carol for a room. I don't really care to spend another night in your stable, pleasant as it is."

He gathered up his things and kissed her, then left. She closed the door behind him with a sigh, then saw that TC was waking and nuzzling around yet again.

As she fed the kitten another dropperful of warm milk, she sighed. "Oh, TC," she murmured, "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid I might be falling in love with him... and I don't think I'm ready to love anyone again. Not yet." Then she lifted the tiny creature up and rubbed her nose against his. "Except maybe you, you precious little thing," she added with a little laugh as he opened his tiny mouth wide and mewled.