'Mary, Mary, please,' he'd looked so helpless, wide eyed under his blue hat, and then suddenly so angry. 'How was I supposed to know? You never--we never--nobody ever said anything!'

O-O-O

It was a terrifying feeling, freedom.

She knew no one would be coming to the library today. No one really ever did. A month ago she would have feebly protested that Gray visited, and that Doctor Trent came on Wednesdays, that the children came for stories every so often and that even Claire stopped in occasionally. Not today. Gray didn't come around anymore, and with him gone neither did Claire. Today was not Wednesday.

If she was brave enough to admit that, then she should be brave enough to turn the key in the lock and close the library for a day. The closing sign she'd spent all morning on hung jauntily in the window. There was nothing and no one to stop her.

Mary took a deep breath. 'This is what the returns slot on the door is for,' she thought. 'No one is going to come, not on a beautiful summer day like this one.'

No, certainly no one would want to be inside on such a beautiful day as this year's Midsummer's Day. They all had jobs and lives and farms to look after. No one would notice her absence.

At last the mantra of 'return slot' convinced her, and she turned the key with one hand while pressing firmly with the other, waiting for the customary click.

O-O-O

The pond shimmered idly in the listless heat. Even the cicadas had gone quiet, the temperature too much today. Feeling the sticky sweat in the creases of her body and along her back, Mary considered wading in the pond. But it wasn't proper, and besides, what if the Goddess thought she were offering herself?

Goddesses don't make mistakes, though, right? They just don't. And certainly not on Midsummer's Day, when Pastor Carter said the Goddess would be at her zenith, so to speak. If there were any day she could expect her prayers to be answered, it was today.

"You have nothing to lose,' she reminded herself, and let the blossoms fall.

For a moment she thought it hadn't worked. Her face, flushed and slick with sweat, glasses nearly slipping off her nose--stared back at her, mingling with the petals and small ripples. For a moment, that was all she saw. Then she realized that her reflection had emerald green eyes.

"Goddess," Mary gasped, the words rushing together in her haste to say them, "Grant me a boon on this Midsummer's Day."

More ripples spread from the image, her face slowly transforming. Flushed cheeks faded, the pink running awake like so much dye beneath a faucet. Her image seemed to sink, to grow in depth, until Mary peered down at a woman's face, trapped just below the surface. Goddess pond, indeed.

"What do you ask of me, Mary Thorne?" A voice that was both the soft rustling of pages and a strong wind blowing through a grove of pine trees sounded in her ears. "You have a home, work, and a beau, if I'm not mistaken. The face, so beautiful it was almost inherently inhuman, took on a calculating expression. "Or perhaps not. Tell me of your troubles, then."

This was what she had come for. Haltingly at first, then more animated as she continued, Mary told the Harvest Goddess of not only all that had happened, but all she had thought and felt.

"I cannot give you new life, or new love," the Goddess warned her at the end of the tale. "No magic can do that. I can only give you the means to find those for yourself."

Shocked at how misjudged she had been, Mary sputtered. "I don't want you to give those things to me! I just want a spell to help me find something different. Something new."

Emerald eyes appraised her for a long moment. "That I can do, but you must help yourself as well. Each task you complete, and you will know when you do so, will help you find this something different you long for."

That was all she could ask for. "I accept your bargain," Mary said solemnly, and felt an incredibly overpowering sense of amusement from the immortal before her, as if she were a child who had amused her parents.

"Then it is done." There was a flash of light, and the Goddess disappeared.

O-O-O

A week later, the wonder had faded and bewilderment had set in. The Goddess had said she would know when each time came, but how would she know? When her books failed to offer any insight, she turned to the only source left.

Instead of eating lunch, she headed for the confessional. "Pastor?" she asked when the cool dimness of the booth enveloped her.

"Hello, my daughter," Carter replied, in full ritual mode. "What do you wish to confess today?"

"Ah, no confession, just some questions," Mary replied hastily. She shifted nearer to the grille on the side, crossing her legs and placing a hand beneath her chin. "Have you ever...spoken...to the Goddess?"

Pastor Carter paused for a long moment. "Is this a question of faith? Because you know, belief is not based on sight."

She shook her head, then remembered he couldn't see her well, if at all. "No. Have you ever spoken to the Goddess?"

"Of course I have. And I believe she has spoken to me."

There was only one way to find out if she'd dreamed the entire thing. "Has she ever given you a task?" she asked, hesitating over the last word. "Or told you to do something in exchange for her granting your prayer?"

Carter hummed for a moment, considering her words. "Well, mainly I ask her for guidance, and usually she gives that to me free of charge, beyond that I continue my service here. So no, she never has."

"Oh." Mary frowned. What had she seen at the pond? What had she meant by tasks?

"Mary, the Goddess appears to us in different ways. Perhaps this...exchange she offered you is to your benefit in some way. Perhaps it will benefit another. We simply cannot know."

She nodded, then verbalized her assent. "Thank you, Pastor."

"Thank you, Mary." As she stood to leave, he coughed lightly. "What did she sound like?"

"Like books, and wind." It was a voice she would never forget.

"Ah," there seemed to be a smile in his voice. "For me, she sounds like bells."

Together, they emerged from the connecting booths. Carter beamed at her, then lowered his voice and said, "Do you see that young man, sitting over there? "His name is Cliff. Do you think you could speak to him before you leave? He's new, and having some trouble socializing."

She nodded, taking in the sight of a young, disheveled man with brown hair. He seemed sad, looking at the floorboards, and deep in thought. Though her stomach churned at the thought of speaking with a stranger, she walked over to where he sat in the second pew.

"H-hello," she said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looked up and then down again, so quickly she could have blinked and missed his regard. His cheeks flushed pink.

"Hi," he said after a moment. Mary sat down beside him, and found herself with nothing more to say. Suddenly she began to wish she'd never sat down--would it look too awkward to get up again so soon? Of course it would! But wasn't it awkward to just stay and not say anything? Try as she might, she couldn't think of anything to say. He seemed equally uncertain of what to say.

The silence continued to build, and listening to the bells chime the quarter hour, Mary vowed to stay for fifteen more minutes. 'I can leave then,' she thought, and settled into the pew.

Sitting that way, her thoughts easily drifted to her latest novel. It had been on hiatus for quite some time; lately she just hadn't felt the urge to write the way she used to. She frowned. Really, she ought to get back to it. When she'd left it last time, the sullen hero had just met his quiet, elegant lady-love. Her mouth twisted at the thought. Maybe it was better to just destroy the whole thing and start again.

She was so caught up in new plot lines and characters that she barely heard the next chime. Looking up, she noticed Cliff was staring at her. "I have to go," she said, stammering, and hoped she hadn't made a total mess of Carter's request.

The young man smiled. "Thank you," he said, "For just sitting here with me. Sometimes I just need quiet."

That was something she understood all too well. "I run the library, just down the road that way," she said, pointing in case he wasn't sure of the direction. "It's almost always quiet. You're welcome any time."

"Thank you," he said again, and as Mary left the church and walked down the road, she could have sworn that someone, somewhere, was smiling down upon her.

O-O-O

Cliff mostly came alone, but after a few hints he began to bring Ann as well. Towards the end of summer, even Kai made an appearance with his roommate, propping himself up in a chair and getting comfortable with Around the World in 80 Days.

Ann was loud and boisterous, but neither minded. Though Mary enjoyed her quiet conversations with Cliff on the days he felt like speaking and their silences when he didn't, she also enjoyed the days when they debated over books or told stories of town life with the innkeeper's daughter.

"--And that's why Doctor Tim, to this day, will not give Karen any Turbogizers," Ann finished her latest tale triumphantly, to the smothered giggles of Mary and Cliff's guffaws. "Duke claims that the winery is still recovering."

When the two left that autumn evening, Cliff turned back on his way out the door. The difference a few friends and a new job had made in him was astounding--he carried himself upright, he smiled often, and while he was still quiet, he no longer had a problem speaking.

"Thank you," he told her, smiling that bashful grin she had come to look forward to. "Seriously, Mary. Before I started coming here, I was seriously considering leaving Mineral Town. Now I'm glad I didn't."

O-O-O

That autumn, Mary found herself running more errands to Zack's than ever before. The Mayor had granted her more money than ever before after Claire' s incredibly successful summer harvest, and she found herself enamored with the catalogs she could order from.

On one such rainy trip to pick up the latest package of books, she couldn't help but walk quickly. In her haste to get out of the house, she'd forgotten her umbrella. Still, she could practically feel the covers already. Her fingers itched to turn pages, and when it came to which one she would read first, well, it was never the same from one step to the next.

Maybe that was why she didn't see the blonde hair, green eyes, or red dress until it was too late.

"Ouch!" The woman fell and Mary was sent staggering, one's umbrella rolling to the side and the other's glasses tumbling from her nose and landing unharmed. "Watch where you're going!" the strange woman snapped, then stopped and gave a half-hearted chuckle when she saw Mary scrabbling around for her spectacles.

"Sorry, hon," the woman said, locating the glasses with ease and handing them back to Mary. She sighed over her dress, the bottom of which was soaked completely. "Well, if that don't beat all."

"I'm sorry!" Mary said, helping the woman to her feet and handing her back her umbrella. "I didn't see you--I was walking fast, and it was dark, and the rain--" she hated how her nervousness made her seem like a stammering fool.

Another chuckle, this one sounding wet. "It's okay, hon," the woman said, and Mary realized that her hair and dress had already been mostly soaked before this. "I should have been more careful too."

"Where are you going?" at the woman's saddened look, she immediately backtracked. "I mean, it's none of my business, but I thought maybe I could help you."

The woman laughed, a full laugh. "I know small towns," she said. "It's everyone's business, right? But I don't need any help, I'm just heading back home."

Glancing around Rose Square, it finally occurred to Mary where the woman must be heading. "You mean to walk all the way to Forget-Me-Not Valley now?"

"Well, yes, I've got to get back, Griffin will be wondering where I am."

Something determined in Mary reared its head then. Maybe it was the way the woman shivered in her soaked dress. Maybe it was the way she was favoring a leg, as if she'd hurt her foot and couldn't stand comfortably in her heels. Maybe it was the way her mascara was running even though the rest of her face was dry. Whatever it was, this woman was in no condition to walk that far right now.

"No," she said, surprised at how loud her voice sounded. "Come on, I'll take you to the Inn. You can call home from there, but you shouldn't walk home tonight, especially alone."

The woman thought about it for a moment, then sighed, shoulders slumping. "Well, guess I have to use my wage for something, huh?" She limped to stand beside Mary, offering the librarian a bit of the space beneath the umbrella. "Lead on."

O-O-O

While the woman called down to the Valley, Mary helped Ann make the upstairs bed. Suddenly, she realized that the woman had nothing with her, not even pajamas. Leaving Ann to finish the rest of the quick tidy-up, she ran home under Ann's umbrella, retrieving a nightgown and an extra toothbrush.

The mysterious woman finally made her way upstairs, with a little help from a glass of wine and Ann. When she saw the items Mary had brought, her eyes began to tear up. "Thank you," she told the both of them. "I'm Muffy, by the way. I'm not normally this stupid." She sat down on the bed, head in her hands.

Mary reached over and patted her back soothingly while Ann fluffed the pillows. "A good night's sleep will make things look brighter," she suggested, drawing back the bedcovers.

Muffy shook her head in denial and looked up. Dark lines ran down below her eyelids and onto her upper cheeks. "He was supposed to propose, not break up with me."

She understood that all too well. As Ann excused herself, promising Muffy with a slap on the back that things would most definitely improve, just wait and see, Mary sat down on the bed next to the barmaid. How would she explain what she herself had been slow to accept?

"Sometimes," she told Muffy, "things that were good, that seemed good, weren't so great after all." Watery green eyes looked up at her, as if seeking for some sort of lifeline. Mary understood. "Sometimes we have to lose those things in order to see the better things in store for us."

Muffy nodded at last, tears finally spilling over, and as Mary held her, she once again had the sense that someone was smiling.

O-O-O

When Mary awoke the next morning, having fallen asleep next to Muffy, the barmaid was already gone. Atop the folded up pajamas and toothbrush sat a note.

You're welcome to visit me anytime, it read. Also, I know some people in the city. If you ever finish that manuscript, or even if you have a short story or two mail it to them and tell them I recommended you. Below was a name and address.

She couldn't help but smile, then laugh. She couldn't wait to sit down at her typewriter again.

O-O-O

Winter brought its own special moments; along with the occasional visit to Forget-Me-Not Valley and the continued visits of Ann and Cliff, Gray and Claire announced their engagement.

"Only a year," her mother couldn't seem to get over the idea. "They've only known each other a year. How long have you known Gray for, honey?"

It didn't particularly matter. Mary was so busy writing that she didn't have time for more than a pang or two of melancholy. And if Ann, who had appointed herself chief reader and encourager, even so much as sensed a moment of sorrow, she was quick to intervene with ideas and hot cocoa.

Of course, long nights of furious typing and displacing healthy habits soon turned into a minor cold.

"Mary," Doctor Trent chided gently as he took her temperature at the clinic. "A fever of a hundred and three is not a minor cold. All those body aches are not just the product of late nights at the typewriter, though that certainly doesn't help. You have the flu."

He sat down on the side of the bed. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Assuming he would ask her to exercise more or not write as much, Mary sighed. "Certainly, Doctor, but I can't promise I'll do it."

He grinned, and Mary felt her cheeks begin to heat. How was he still single in this town full of gossip? As Elli bustled in, bringing some of the medicines he'd called for, she remembered why.

"Thank you, Elli." After a friendly wink at Mary, the nurse left the room. "Now, you're friends with my assistant. Do you think that you could put in a good word for me? She trusts you, and you're the most levelheaded of the other girls here."

It took her a moment to sift through what the doctor was asking. He wanted her to put a good word in? Did he like his pretty assistant? She smiled at the thought.

"I think I can definitely help you, Doctor," she said, then had to pause for a sneeze. "But you need to get her to come by the library more."

"I can do that," he responded, grinning once more, "If you can call me Tim." And a deal it was.

O-O-O

As soon as three of the girls began gathering in the library at least once a week, the other two were quick to join them. With Karen in attendance, relationships became a regular topic.

"Well," Elli confessed one day, a deep blush suffusing her face as she set aside the medical text the doctor had assigned her, "I wish the doctor would look at me the way Rick looks at you, Karen."

Sensing the opportunity, Mary smiled as Ann pounced. "You mean those lengthy sidelong glances that scream 'Kiss me!,' right?" the redhead teased, having experienced Karen and Rick's antics at the bar. "Or maybe the one where he looks deep into her eyes?"

"Hey!" Karen shouted, only to quiet when Mary glared and shushed her. This was a library, after all. "Sorry."

"Or maybe that one where he makes those puppy dog eyes and looks so sad," Popuri added. When the others turned to her, she shrugged. "What? I live with him!"

"I just wish he'd look at me at all!" Elli wailed. "It's like he doesn't even see me, just a giant to-do list!"

Mary leaned forward, her heart pounding with excitement. "But he does look at you," she said softly. "I noticed when I had the flu."

Karen nodded. "He's always asking what your favorites are when he does the shopping."

Taking her cue from the others, Ann contributed, "Remember when you got sick last autumn? He was worried he couldn't cook well enough, so he went to Ellen and us for your meals."

"But that's just him trying to make sure I'm healthy," Elli protested, brushing it off.

A soft voice interrupted. "No," Popuri said, impossibly firm and gentle at the same time. "Mama says that when she asks after him, all he talks about is you. He thinks about you constantly."

That mysterious feeling of goodwill was back. Mary felt comfortable revealing the secret. "He wanted us to put a good word in for him."

Thankfully, Karen knew where to go from there, because Elli was too stunned to fight back and Mary too uncertain to continue. "He's very interested, but you're going to have to make the first move. He's probably shy, and the doctor's a decent guy. He doesn't want to take advantage of you in any way."

"But what do I do?" Elli asked, and together as a group they began to plan and propose ideas to the kind nurse.

'Me, making plans. Who'd have ever thought?' If anything, the benevolent feeling had gotten stronger.

O-O-O

The seasons had once again turned to Spring, and the extra chores of the season had left everyone busy. Mary didn't mind, as she was currently working on her second novel. She'd mailed the first one off to Muffy's publishing friends only a few weeks ago.

In the quiet warmth of the library, Mary found herself jotting down ideas for third and even fourth novels. Perhaps someday she'd write a collection of short stories? It seemed anything was possible these days.

She'd slipped deep into a daydream of signing autographs for her latest bestseller when the bells above the door jingled lightly. Looking up, she was surprised to discover a young man in overalls, a short sleeve shirt, and a cap.

He removed the hat, revealing light brown hair, and grinned at her. "Hey," he said, his greeting revealing his city origins. "I'm Claire's brother, Jack. Here for the wedding."

"But that's not 'til summer," she said, startled, then checked herself. What business was it of hers?

His grin didn't falter as he moved to look at the shelves lining the reading area. "Well, thought I'd come early, now I'm starting to think I might stay for good."

Mary reexamined the man. He was lean, but muscled, and looked as if he knew his way around a hard day's work. Judging by his grin and conversation he was easygoing and generally cheerful.

"I'm Mary," she told him, remembering her manners at last. "Can I help you find anything?"

"Well now," Jack said, drawing out the words as he perused the shelves, "I'm more of an animal man myself. D'you think you can help me find some books about animal husbandry, or tell me where to go to find out more?"

Now that she could do. "Animal books are over to the right," she said, gesturing at the appropriate section. "There's a television channel with programs about that sort of thing, you'll have to ask Claire about that. I can take you over to the Poultry Farm, or to Yodel Farm. They have cows and sheep there," she added helpfully.

Jack considered for a moment. "I don't think we can afford cows or sheep just yet, but I'd like to see the Poultry Farm. Will it be a problem, though, leaving work?"

The fact that he called it work endeared him to her immediately. "Not today," she said with a glance around the empty place. Flipping off the lights and turning the sign to Closed, she escorted Jack out the door.

As they walked down the road he told her about his trip to Mineral Town and what he hoped to do with his part of the farm. Jack certainly was active. She practically had to jog to keep up with his long, rangy strides.

Popuri was chasing a chicken around the yard when they reached the farm. The pink haired girl finally nabbed the bird when it paused to consider the new foes. "Thanks!" she said, smiling at her friend and the newcomer.

"It was nothing," Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck as he regarded her. Remembering her manners, Mary stepped in.

"Popuri, this is Jack. He's Claire's brother, and wants some advice about owning chickens. Jack, this is Popuri. She helps run the Poultry Farm."

The two hardly seemed to hear her, already chatting away about this and that. It was easy to slip away unnoticed.

Mary ignored the slight pang that added again to that unnoticed. She had so much already. Wasn't it wrong to want more?

O-O-O

At Claire's wedding, Mary barely glanced at the blonde bride and her blushing redheaded groom. Instead she focused on Jack, sitting a few pews ahead of her, holding Popuri's hand.

There was that feeling of smiling presence, and she knew the Goddess had not forsaken her.

O-O-O

Summer had come once more, and Mary was startled to find how different she felt from the year before. When she'd made her plea to the Goddess so many months ago, everything had seemed so dull and hopeless. Now, with a book to be published soon and a constant stream of friends, every day seemed to bring something new and exciting.

Her father stopped her one evening as she was brushing her hair out from its typical braid. "Sweetheart," he said, brown hair contrasting with her own dark locks, "I am so proud of you. You have blossomed this past year. I wish I could say it was because of something your mother and I did."

"Oh, Papa," she said, taking his hand. He patted her gently on the head, running his fingers through her hair, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Your mother and I are so very, very proud," he repeated.

O-O-O

Tim had finally proposed. With the wedding scheduled for autumn, Mary finally broached the subject with Ann, who still visited regularly, even on days Cliff couldn't get time off of work.

"Does it bother you that everyone's getting married?" she asked, not wanting to hurt her friend's feelings by bringing it up, but still curious.

Ann smiled and shook her head, long red braid swinging back and forth. "Not really. We're together, no matter what anyone else says. I'm happy. What do the rest of them matter? We're taking our time." Taking a good look at Mary, Ann found the librarian troubled. "Does it bother you?"

"How could it?" Mary replied lightly, arranging her expression in a smile. "I have no one to wed."

Ann dropped the subject, but couldn't help the slight worry that began in her heart.

O-O-O

Not long after their conversation, Kai made an appearance at the library. He sauntered in, smiling up at the tinkling bells hanging from the door, and dragged a chair up right to her desk. Mary watched him flop into the chair with wide eyes. This was certainly odd behavior from the cheerful traveler.

After closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a long sigh, Kai leaned forward once more. "I need something from you, Mary."

She couldn't help her own sigh, nor the narrowing of her eyes. "And what would that be?" she asked archly.

He grinned, and if she didn't melt for a nice smile, she didn't give in to anything. "Well," he said, reaching into his haversack and pulling out a book, "I'd like your autograph."

With a gasp she seized the hard copy of her first book. She'd already seen her hard copy, true, but to see it in its mass-produced, published form was a dream come true. Quickly she flipped through it, noticing with delight rather than her usual horror that some of the pages had been dog-eared. He'd actually read it!

"Oh, Kai," she said warmly, smiling at him as she reached for her favorite pen, "How did you get it so early?"

He actually blushed at her heartfelt smile. "It was released early at the last port I stopped in at. The moment I saw Mary Thorne I knew it was going to be amazing. Seriously, I loved the part where Cassie finally decides to go her own way and move on. It really hit close to home."

If only he knew. In her fanciest handwriting, she wrote,

To Kai,

It meant so much to me that you read it. Come by any time. I'd like to hear your stories.

Love, Mary

Taking back the book, he read the note and blushed even harder, Mary felt strange to realize that this time there was no smiling presence watching over her. Then again, maybe the Goddess knew she could handle this one.

So later, when he asked her to come by and have a snowcone, she told him she'd love to.