Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Episode 11 Read Online Free Page A

that man … ”
    “ Is that something you prefer to do alone or —”
    “ Usually. However, I might be persuaded to invite a cer tain someone if he ’ d finish the laundry so I could check the bread .”
    “ Gimme the apron, ” Chad demanded. “ Don ’ t want any overcooked bread .”
    She dumped the apron in his hands and jogged down the stairs. The scent alone told her the bread would be perfect—and it was. Willow dumped the pans on cooling racks and rubbed butter over the top crusts. The scent—oh how she loved the scent of fresh baked bread. Combined with venison stew , there wasn’t anything better on a winter’s afternoon.
    She ladled stew into bowls, buttered hot rolls, and set the table.
    “ Chad! Lunch is ready … ”
    Upstairs, Chad leaned against the wall, allowing the sound of her voice to wash over him. Something in the way she called — perhaps the familiarity with it — warmed his heart. Such a natural thing — a call to a meal — and yet , it was a picture of a life to come. Twenty or thirty years in the future, Lord willing, she ’ d be calling him to a similar lunch on a similar winter ’ s day. Maybe there ’ d be children in the house. Would she call all of them at once or would she call his name first?
    His heart constricted and his throat swelled at the thought. Would she? Like his mother, would she call him before children? Memories of tearing through the house, racing through the kitchen to the dining room, and bumping into his parents as they snuggled by the stove. That first call for his dad always felt comforting somehow — a subtle r eminder that in her affections D ad came first, even before her children.
    Ten, twenty years down the road, would he be first in Willow ’ s affections? Would their children know that ? H e glanced at t he doors at the end of the hall. W ould they have children? They had to have children — somehow. This world of Willow ’ s was too wonderful not to continue through the lives of children who would love and appreciate it.
    “ Hey .” Willow ’ s voice startled him. “ Did you hear me call? This can wait. Let ’ s eat while it ’ s hot .”
    Chad s e t the down the basket and followed her downstairs , still dreaming of pigtailed little girls and boys with hair in their eyes and frogs in their pockets. “ Willow? ”
    “ Hmm? ”
    “ Have you thought about children? ”
    A sharp intake of brea th sent her bread down her wind pipe. Coughing and sputtering, she shook her head. “ What? ”
    “ I guess that ’ s a no .” Chad took a bite of his stew and suppressed the sigh that tried to escape. He wanted that little girl.
    “ Well, you ’ re right. I haven ’ t thought about children — not for a while anyway .”
    Chad ’ s eyes brightened as he glanced back at her. “ So you have considered children? ”
    “ Well, I always thought I ’ d have a couple of boys , but sometime after mother died, I realized I ’ d have to have a husband for that , so I put the idea of children out of my mind .”
    After a short struggle to find the right words, Chad scooped up a spoonful of stew and commented as casually as he could manage, “ I was just thinking how your childhood should be repeated. Children should live this life .”
     

     
     
    She watched him work his jaw as he chewed his food and tried to avoid eye contact. Did he think she ’ d refuse to have children? She hadn’t thought of it yet—not since being engaged anyway. Pregnancy, childbirth—horrible things. How similar would her experience be if she were to—Willow swallowed hard at that thought. Childbirth. She wouldn’t be alone. That had to be an improvement right there. No, the real problem came long before childbirth. Rising panic washed over her.
    He was right. She ’ d had a wonderful childhood. After observing how other families interact, she knew she ’ d missed wonderful things that other children had . Memories of walks, talks, games, life with Mother