The sound of rain drumming on her roof woke Colette up earlier than usual. She sat up, stretching and rubbing her eyes as she yawned, then realized she was still in her clothes. Thinking over the night before, she couldn't recall how she ended up back in bed-the last thing she remembered was lying on the grass, snuggled up against Will as they watched the stars slowly rotating in the black sky above.

"Guess I must've fallen asleep out there," she murmured as she looked down at TC, who had clambered out of his little bed and straggled over to her, mewling with his wide little mouth. She picked him up and cuddled him, letting him play cat and mouse with her fingertip for a few minutes before setting him back down.

She put out some food for him, then changed into her work clothes and made a hearty breakfast. Rain or shine, she had a lot of work to do, and she'd need the energy.

Living on the islands presented some challenges with farming, one of which was that she couldn't use any machinery. She had no way to get any to her island, no space to store it, and the only fuel to be found anywhere on the islands was a tank of diesel near the ferry dock, maintained for the ferry as well as for Kirk's motorboat and the occasional recreational boat.

So for now at least, all farming had to be done entirely by hand. Clearing and manually tilling the neglected fields had been exhausting in itself, and she still had to do all the planting, hoeing, and harvesting by hand. Looking across her fields of corn, tomatoes, and melon, perfectly ripe and waiting for her in the pouring rain, she resolved to talk to Vaughn about purchasing a draft horse or even a draft pony.

But for now, she pulled out her bushel baskets and got to work, wearing a raincoat and wide brimmed hat to try to keep from getting soaked. She started with the tomatoes, as they were the most fragile crop, and therefore the most likely to be damaged by the rain. Because they were so ripe, she packed them in special shallow boxes, with padding all around them to protect them from bruising.

By midday, she had harvested only two rows of tomatoes, out of twenty. She gathered up the boxes and stacked them into the shipping container, then took a short break for lunch. After a sandwich, an apple, and two big glasses of water, she headed back out, working until the sun was setting and it was becoming difficult to tell a ripe tomato from an unripe tomato. She'd gotten another three rows harvested, so she was a quarter of the way done-with just the tomatoes.

All together, it took her five days to harvest the tomatoes, including a day to go back and harvest the ones that had ripened after she'd picked the first crop. Then three days for all her corn-she had more of it, but it was quicker and easier to harvest the corn than the delicate tomatoes, so it went much faster. Then another pass through her tomatoes, and four days to harvest the melons. She had fewer melons than either tomatoes or corn, but they were so large and heavy, she couldn't go very quickly. After the melons, she made a final pass through each of her fields to harvest any latecomers, and she was finished. Two weeks all together, and that was only to harvest. She still had to prepare her fields and plant her fall crops-another four days' work at the very least.

Will had expected her to be finished in two weeks, since that had been her estimate. So when she went to buy her seeds, she stopped by to let him know she'd underestimated the amount of time, and that it would be a few more days, possibly as much as a week, before she was finished. He was visibly disappointed and said he'd missed spending time with her, but he understood.

As the sun set five days later, she looked toward the horizon with a tired sigh. She was done, at long last, but she was completely wiped out. She'd planted a field of carrots, a field of sweet peppers, a field of eggplants, and she'd also planted a smaller garden patch with an assortment of herbs and vegetables for her kitchen and for the wild animals on Animal Island. She put her tools away, then went to shower, standing under the stinging spray until it turned tepid.

After putting on clean clothes, she headed over to the hotel. Will was sitting by the window in his room, reading a book, when she knocked on his door, and he looked up with delight as she stepped in.

"Colette, darling! How wonderful to see you. Please do sit down-you look exhausted. How's the farm?"

"I'm finally done," she sighed as she sank into the chair next to his. "I need to find a better way to do this. It's just too much for one person. I think I'll see if Vaughn can get me a draft horse. That'll make the work much easier and faster."

"A draft horse? I didn't know they were still around-not for actual farm work, anyway. How do you, ahh, use one?"

"They do. Some small farms prefer them to tractors, or so I've read. I've no idea how to work with one-it never really came up in any of my riding lessons. But maybe he can arrange for me to get some hands-on instruction, too. After all, if someone trains horses for that work, they obviously know how to drive them."

"Yes, I suppose so. Well! So you're all done for now? Shall we celebrate? You can't imagine how dull the past few weeks have been without you."

"I'd love to, Will, but tonight I'm just too tired. I only wanted to let you know the minute I finished working-I've missed you, too."

"You mean, you haven't even eaten?" Will exclaimed.

"Not since breakfast. I was really pushing to wrap things up today."

"Well, then at least allow me to buy you dinner. We can plan something for tomorrow, when you've had a chance to rest. And if you're still tired, we can simply relax together, reading or sunbathing whatever you feel like doing. I'll just be glad of your company, no matter what we do or where we are."

She flashed a brief but grateful smile. "Thank you. That sounds lovely. I don't feel much like eating, though-maybe just a sandwich or a salad at Haila's?"

They strolled across the street to the café, and Will ordered while Colette sat down. He joined her a few minutes later, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, a turkey and avocado sandwich, and a cup of the soup of the day-a creamy plantain soup garnished with herbs and freshly shaved coconut.

While she ate, Will said as he sipped his coffee, "I finally spoke with the boatyard. There had been some delays-they had a little difficulty obtaining some of the furnishings I had specified. But they only have a little finishing work left to complete, and it'll be ready for me to bring back. I can pick it Friday, and I was rather hoping you'd care to come with me. I thought we could make a day of it-you could go shopping, if you like, while I settle up with the yard. Afterwards we could go to dinner, perhaps take in a show or a concert, then sail back to the islands. What do you say?"

"It sounds wonderful," Colette said between bites. "Right now, though, I'm too tired to think straight. Let's talk it over tomorrow, all right?"

"Certainly," Will replied. "Why don't I pick up lunch around noon and bring it over? Then we can see what you feel like doing after that."

Stifling a yawn as she reached for her coffee, Colette said, "Probably not a lot. The rain's supposed to be back tomorrow. Not that I mind so much now-it saves me watering my garden and fields. It was when it was raining so hard while I was harvesting that it irritated me-especially with the tomatoes. I'm amazed I didn't lose more of that crop than I did because of it."

"Then we can plan to just spend the day in. Shall I also bring ingredients to prepare dinner? I can't imagine you've had very much time for shopping. I would even be happy to cook you a meal, if you don't mind my fumbling about in your kitchen." She gave him a surprised look, and he smiled. "Yes, I can cook-rather well, actually. I've just not really had the opportunity to do so. Once I'm back in my ship, though, I fully intend to prepare a great many meals for you."

"Well, if you're sure-it's pretty cramped, though," she said, dubiously.

"My ship's galley is hardly palatial," he chuckled. "I can manage just fine. I think I will prepare ossobuco with a savory risotto," he mused, rubbing his chin as he considered. "It should smell marvelous while it cooks. Perhaps a little antipasto before the meal and a light, crisp salad afterwards. And then... I think either an apple or a citrus tart for dessert would be refreshing. Ahh, I'm looking forward to this, I must say-I've not been able to cook for several weeks now."

"It sounds delicious," Colette yawned, hastily covering her mouth. "Sorry! I'd better get going, though, before I fall asleep. Thank you for dinner, and I'll see you around noon?"

"Most assuredly," he said, rising and helping her to her feet. "Let me see you safely home, though. I wouldn't want you to fall asleep along the way."

He was returning to the hotel after walking Colette home and saying goodnight to her when a blur from the shadow of the hotel shot out at him, slamming him into the wall of the inn, pinning him there by his neck.

"What the-" he exclaimed hoarsely, struggling, but his attacker was at least as tall as him, and quite a bit stronger.

The man tipped his hat back with his free hand, and Will saw a glint of silver hair in the moonlight. "What the hell are you playing at, rich boy?" a low voice snarled.

"I don't... know... what... you-you're... talking about!" he rasped, fighting to loosen the hand that strangled him.

The man stepped back, releasing him, and he collapsed, clutching at his neck as he coughed and gasped for air. Looking up, he saw Vaughn's eyes, almost crimson in the dim light, glaring hostilely at him. "This is what I'm talking about," he snarled, flinging a sheet of paper at him.

Will picked it up, turning the page so that the moonlight illuminated the fine script hastily scrawled across it. After a moment, a look of shock and dismay crossed his face, followed by a cautious wariness.

Folding the page up, he tucked it into his jacket pocket. "I see. I... I was not aware she had overheard our conversation. I did wonder why my uncle removed her so hastily, and without explanation. How curious that she chose you of all people to confide in, though."

"Maybe she knew that I could be trusted, unlike some others she knows," Vaughn replied coldly, watching him suspiciously. "You haven't answered my question. What are you playing at?"

"It... it's not what it sounds like. Truly, it isn't," Will replied, slowly rising to his feet. "I'd never do anything to hurt Colette."

"And I should believe you because...?" Vaughn snorted.

"You have no reason whatsoever to believe what I say," Will said. "All I can do is ask you to wait and see if my actions belie my words."

"What the hell makes you think I'd give you the chance to hurt her first?"

"Only because I ask it of you-no, I beg it of you... because I love her."

Vaughn stared at him through narrowed eyes. After several minutes, he said, "Give me the letter." Will hesitated for a moment, then pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. As he took it, Vaughn warned him, "If I see even the faintest hint that anything's not right, I'm stepping in. I don't give a shit about you, but I'm not standing around and watching her get hurt-or worse. I'll be watching you, so you'd best keep that in mind."

Then he turned and stalked away, fading once more into the shadows.