Author's Note: Rewritten as of April 6, 2017!

Well, here she is! I originally started this story years ago and am working on revamping it. Writing this story has helped pull me through a crippling bit of depression and inspired me to write again. I can't even begin to explain how much better I feel when I'm writing; I can put my emotions and thoughts into words again. Another part of that is due to my rock, my partner, my love. I can't thank my lovely sweet editor, my husband, enough. I dedicate this story to you, Darling.

So without further ado, get cozy, and tuck in for a looong story about love, hard work, community, and finding yourself. I hope that you enjoy! If I know that this story made at least one person smile or feel less alone, I can add that happiness to my own. ;)

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It had been a dreary, rainy day. How very fitting for her mood. The young woman listened to the raindrops smack against her windowpanes.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

A second, steadier rhythm was added to the din.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A small leak in the ceiling dribbled into an old bucket she had found in her barn earlier that day. It was hardly a permanent fix, but it would have to do for now.

Claire wasn't the type to brood, but today was different. She had only been in Mineral Town for a few weeks, but she was already starting to have second thoughts about staying. She knew, however, that she didn't have much of a choice—the real estate agent had smooth-talked her into giving all up of her money for the run-down farm. Just thinking about the scheme angered the normally quiet and rational young woman, and it was the only time within her memory that she had resorted to using violence.

It could be argued that the mayor of the town was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he had dared to tease her about the situation. He had the gall to laugh in her face when she admitted that she had moved out of her apartment already and quit her job before actually seeing the property she had purchased. The pudgy middle-aged man hadn't expected physical brutality in response to his less-than-polite remarks about her decision-making skills.

He deserved it, Claire gritted her teeth.

Did he really, though? The young woman bit her lip as she shifted on her lumpy cotton mattress. The farmer rewound the situation in her mind and her face burned with embarrassment that she had brandished her new hammer at him. What on earth had she been thinking? The problem was that she hadn't been. Being blinded by rage was something people read about in books; Claire never lost her temper. Her stomach churned as she contemplated this ugly new side of her that she didn't know existed. She threw herself down on the bed and stared at the knots in the pine ceiling of her new house, muttering phrases and words of displeasure under her breath. Perhaps the one she was the angriest with was herself for being so gullible and desperate for something new and exciting in her life.

Is it really too much to ask for? I'm twenty-two and I feel like I'm a dying old woman already…

But she had fallen into a now-obvious real estate trap – believing every word she had read in the advertisement. Simply put, she had been too naïve.

The new farmer liked to think of her initial attraction to the small coastal town as a sort of temporary insanity; the young woman had seen an advertisement in the local paper for the property and had called the real estate company that very night with an offer. Claire had a steady job in the city, but a lingering sadness followed her for as long as she could remember. It almost felt as if her soul was dying a little bit every day, especially after joining the workforce. She enjoyed working with numbers – her job at the accounting firm was a big responsibility for someone so young and with a somewhat less than adequate education, and she had been up to the challenge for over a year now. Besides, her parents had given her something she craved more than anything else in the entire world: some implications of approval and praise. She should have been elated. The quiet middle child had set about her life determined to please them, and in doing so, making herself happy. Things were never that simple, she realized as she grew older.

The heavy weight on the young woman's heart was a particular brand of loneliness that belonged to people who knew very little of much else. Her insatiable desire for her success in the workforce kept her from connecting well with anyone. She rarely spoke to anyone outside of the office, although she religiously sent reports to her parents back home via handwritten letters. Eager for their support, she wished they would reply to her writings, boring as the contents were. She realized with a sudden and violent sadness the lowly level she had stooped to when she had written a letter to her mother a few months ago about her delight in finding an extra dumpling in her microwave dinner.

That had been the highlight of her week.

Although she loved to cook, she lacked the energy or time to do much of it since she moved out of her parents' house at nineteen. She had gingerly peeled the crinkly plastic back from an identical meal tray, searching hopefully for a spare dumpling, only to be met with disappointment once again. It had been sheer dumb luck, a fluke at the factory that processed the meals. The dumplings, although they were the tastiest part of the meal, admittedly weren't even that good to begin with; they were rather bland.

Isn't there something exciting in this world?

She never would have expected to find the answer to her prayers that very evening as she opened the newspaper to read about the day's events. She dropped the paper on the floor, letting a small whine escape her lips as she bent over to pick it up. Claire was too tired to go about chasing after her clumsy mistakes tonight – her fatigue at work had left her scrambling to correct errors all day in her records. She let out a sigh as she looked at the heap of manila folders bundled up by the television. It would be a long night of correcting the mistakes she made today…

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as her throat tightened at the notion of another evening staring at her own errors until her eyes grew bleary with exhaustion. If there was one thing she hated more than anything else, it was failure. Claire felt another piece of herself slipping away. She forced the thought and dread out of her mind and willed herself to relax for a moment as she picked up the insert that had fallen from the periodical. Just a few minutes to read about what was going on in the world, and she'd get back to work.

She looked at the colorful advertisement in her hands and nearly missed her chair as she sat back down, staring intently at the description of a property in a far-off village.

Mineral Town…

A wave of euphoria shot up her spine as she continued to read. She set the ad on her table's surface, as her hands were shaking so much she was having difficulty making out the words. A fresh, green property with clean water, crisp air, and opportunity – this was it! This was the excitement she had been craving. With trembling fingers, she dialed the number provided.

Claire had been in a trance as the real estate agent spoke with her over the phone. Yes, it would probably take decades to pay off, but that was fine; she was getting a new lease on life. It was a beautiful piece of property up in the mountains and had a stream running right along the edge, he explained. A white-sanded beach off of the ocean was walking distance from her house; she had never even been to a beach in her life. There were natural hot springs, and the peak of the mountain overlooked the town. Her house was already equipped with the essentials – they'd even throw in a television. How could anyone not want to live there? No, she didn't have the money for the down payment, but they could work something out.

Her life savings for the down payment? Well, of course, it was a new life after all… Sell any non-essentials? Great idea! She would not let this opportunity pass her by.

I don't think I've ever done anything so stupid in my whole life…

Drip. Tap-tap. Drip.

The young woman snapped back to reality as she stared around her barren one-roomed farmhouse. It was smaller than her apartment back in the city, and her old home had the convenience of a refrigerator, a shower, and a wardrobe full of clothes. In the excitement of owning her own farm and getting a fresh new start, Claire had sold off almost all of her possessions so that she could afford the down payment on the property. While she had written a very businesslike letter to her parents about her move and how nice the farm was, she had left out quite a few details and stretched the truth a bit about the quality of the house. She was now reduced to the bare essentials. She had a sad, worn-out cotton stuffed mattress in the corner of her room that rested on a creaky old frame. An old-fashioned television that received a couple of channels sat on the floor, along with a small table and a few floor cushions.

She absentmindedly watched the drops from the ceiling splash into the pail below. Some luxury farmhouse, she thought bitterly.

Because she had gotten rid of almost everything she owned, this situation left her with little more than the clothes on her back. She suddenly realized how difficult everyday things became to her, such as preparing a meal or taking a bath; she had neither a kitchen nor bathroom in her house. Claire had never been camping herself, but she almost wondered if this was how people felt when they were "roughing it". She gained a new respect for people who had to live this way.

Determined not to be overwhelmed by the implied hopelessness of the situation, she found that she had to be pretty creative to make ends meet. Claire reminded herself every day that this was a new lifestyle from the city, and therefore, she was going to have to learn how to adjust. For example, the farmer would go down to bathe at the spring late at night and jump in fully clothed for fear of someone walking by. She would then hang her clothes to dry in her house as she slept. Claire was sure that she would make enough money for a new set of clothes before cooler weather set in. Waking up to a damp set of clothes was uncomfortable, to say the least. She cursed herself every day for not keeping more articles of clothing, but she had needed every last piece of gold to make the down payment. She alternated between her flannel, her undershirt, and one day when she noticed that not many people walked to the path to the mountains in rainy weather, she only wore her bra under her overalls. The uncomfortable chafing of damp denim on her delicate shoulders quickly kept her from repeating that mistake, and she realized with embarrassment that someone had walked past her on her way back into the farmhouse. She didn't get a good look at them, but knowing her luck, it was probably a man.

Claire also began foraging in the mountains for anything edible. She was used to reaching into her freezer for a meal and she felt a little overwhelmed when she realized that option was no longer available despite the fact that she was working just as hard. The young woman had discovered where a couple of bamboo shoots sprung up, but she wasn't all that sure what was edible and what wasn't; all of this greenery was still quite new to her. She quickly began dropping weight and lacked the energy to grow many crops. As her weight fell, so did her mood. What had she been thinking when she came out here? The farmer couldn't help but focus on what she didn't have.

She tried her best to stay positive. Claire remembered that had also been left with the stables and housing for her animals, but they all stood dusty and empty, save a young horse that one of the fellow farmers dropped by her house a week or so ago for the stable. She had named the colt Tucker, and she was relieved to find that he was content with eating the overgrown weeds on her farm. Her hope that the barn would soon be filled with livestock was quickly fading as she realized she could scarcely feed herself, let alone extra animals. Of course, she also had her loyal puppy, Koro, who was given to her by the real estate agent. It seemed her poor mood had an effect on her pet's behavior. The young dog would quietly sit at the foot of her bed as she stifled sobs, wallowing in self-pity, looking up at her with wide, piteous charcoal eyes.

And that was exactly what she was doing again tonight, she realized as she hugged her knees to her chest. Wallowing. But it was not only her financial situation that bothered her, or her lack of friends. It hadn't even been the fact that the idea of owning a farm now overwhelmed her and she was quickly losing her faith that she would be any sort of success. All of these things were trivial compared to her main problem.

It was him.

She had met him on her first day in her new home. Stubborn, yet shy, the young man quickly caught her interest. The first thing that she noticed about him was the color of his icy blue eyes, although she swiftly realized that he had often hidden them from the world under his hat. A view of the baby blues was a rare treat, and she had been lucky enough to get a peek on her first meeting. The very sight of those eyes made her heart pound in her chest – harder than the thudding of metal on metal she heard in the background the day they had met.

The young man worked hard all day with metal and heavy tools and his body showed it. He had a muscular build and a set of strong arms that she longed to get lost in. Claire felt a certain kind of envy that he was able to work so swiftly, yet she was painfully unaware of the lack of quality in his work. She didn't care that he was only an apprentice; she was a beginner, too. Something about the way he used his anger to fuel his work intrigued her, and she couldn't keep herself from coming into the inn nearly every evening to visit with him and bring him small pieces of copper ore she found. If only she could get another glance at those pale eyes, she felt like she could last another day in Mineral Town.

Gray was always fairly quiet. He accepted his gifts with a simple "thank you", and Claire would find herself staring at him until the both of them turned pink. She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye in the shared room, so she decided it wasn't improper for a young woman to come calling on the apprentice in the evening if someone else was living with him. Gray never had much to say, though, but that was fine; Claire spoke plenty with her eyes and she relished every moment. They stood in silence together and it was as if time stood still for the young woman. It was at this time Gray would suggest she go back to the farm. Claire always silently wished that he would offer to walk her home, but he never did.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain outside had stopped, but the ceiling continued to leak.

The young farmer sat with her worn quilt wrapped around her as she stared up at the dripping ceiling. It had been three weeks since she had met him, and Gray still avoided using her name very often, making Claire fear for a while that he had trouble remembering it. How could he not recall her when after a few weeks, he was the subject of a majority of her thoughts? Claire knew that she should talk to other people and make some friends, but what if no one else could remember her name? It hurt so much she didn't want to think about it, yet it was all she could dwell on as of late.

She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she preferred others to make the first move. Initiating conversation was an extremely stressful task for Claire, and she had struggled with it in the city. Burying herself in her work had always been her go-to coping mechanism for her lack of social life, but in such a small, tight-knit community, one could not hide forever.

The blacksmith's shop had been her first introduction after the mayor, and if she had not caught a peek at those beautiful eyes, she would have been scared off right away with Gray's cold mannerisms in their first meeting. The apprentice's grandfather was in the middle of correcting one of his grandson's errors when Claire entered the smithy and the young man had lashed out at her, demanding that she "kindly get the hell out of" their shop.

"Gray, what has gotten into you?! We do not speak to our customers that way!"

Claire stood in stunned silence as her eyes filled with tears. The young man gazed at her expression and tugged the bill of his cap over his eyes. "So-Sorry… I didn't mean to be rude. My grandfather was giving me a hard time. He never approves of any of my work." He let out a sigh. "… I'm ready to quit. I… feel stupid, you know?"

She thought of her farm as she blinked the mistiness out of her eyes. He wasn't the only one who felt like an incompetent fool. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. Her lips parted in awe as she searched for the words, but they wouldn't come. Those ice blue eyes reflected such a fierceness and passion, but there was a sense of loneliness about them.

They were beautiful.

She wanted to get lost in them and her heart throbbed as she clutched her hand to her chest. She decided right then and there that the young man needed to be in her life. These kinds of feelings didn't happen every day, after all. She felt a well of something rise up in her as she turned to him and clenched her hand into a determined fist. "If you're really… truly unhappy… like you say you are…" her voice died off as she stared at the floor. Claire didn't have an escape out of the situation she was in, but if someone else did… She only hoped he wouldn't have to move far away. "Maybe you should quit," she offered as cordially as possible. He should do what made him happy.

The young man's eyes met hers once again and he was silent for a moment. "Look, I know I started it, but you don't have to be a jerk about it. Can you please just leave now?" Gray's eyes hardened as he ushered her out the door and slammed it behind her. He had read into her words completely the wrong way. She could tell from the clattering of tools that the old man was slamming his fist as he resumed yelling at his grandson. She hurried back to her farm.

Not only had the young apprentice hurt her feelings with his overly guarded attitude, but he had managed to steal her heart at the same time, as strange as it seemed. The very next morning he appeared at her farm with an apology and a few hardboiled eggs he purchased from the poultry farm across the way. She managed to squeak out a thank you and a wave of relief overcame his features as he headed back to work.

She ate all three eggs in one sitting and they were the most delicious thing she had eaten in weeks. As the nutrients hit her, she felt some energy return and she grabbed her hoe with a new determination.

She couldn't stop thinking about the young man as she tended to her fields. What was he like? What did he enjoy? One thing she quickly learned about him was that he walked every day, almost religiously, to the library at one o'clock.

Ah, a reader. Claire hardly had the time while she lived in the city to crack open a book on anything that wasn't related to accounting. She wondered what kinds of stories he liked to read. Action? Adventure? Mystery? Every day she visited the young man at the inn, she noticed the stack of books change. She had read a few of the spines. A Soldier's Pride, The Tactician, War is Hell… He seemed very fond of wartime stories. The young woman couldn't say she felt the same, but she would be willing to give his recommendations a read for the sake of a chance of bonding further with him. She noticed that the apprentice read at a rapid pace; he was constantly returning to the library, but it seemed he didn't always bring his books back with him when he left. Many times he came in and out with no new books. It wasn't as if she was tracking him or anything, but Claire was curious about his strange behavior and she had gone inside one afternoon to see what was so captivating about that library. She soon learned that it was not what was so interesting, but who was so fascinating.

"Hello. You must be the new farmer," the librarian smiled politely, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She had a soft, meek voice with a milder accent than most of the townspeople. The young woman had a very small frame and was short in stature; her shy stance and sloped shoulders didn't add to her height.

Despite her demure mannerisms, she was, in a word, gorgeous. The woman was dressed in what girls back in the city would describe as "bookish" clothing, but it made her look grown-up and sophisticated. A soft ribbon tied around her neck reminded Claire a bit of her high school uniform, but the sweater the librarian had paired it with made her look charming and stylish. Her porcelain skin was contrasted by her long silky black hair that was tied into a loose braid. Behind her glasses, a pair of soft mocha brown eyes reflected a maturity that Claire longed to have.

It was more than just the young woman's perceived wisdom that the farmer was envious of. A pair of pale blue eyes was locked onto the librarian and she noticed the beginnings of a smile on the young man's mouth.

Claire sheepishly nodded and forced a small fake grin on her face, trying not to stare. She was relieved when the young woman continued to speak; the farmer had lost her voice at the sight of Gray.

"My name is Mary, and I am the librarian here. If you have any questions, just let me know." Her eyes were kind, and the slight curve of her pink lips was inviting. "I'm sure that you'll fit right in here." Claire felt herself relax a little bit at Mary's words. It seemed she had one of those faces one couldn't help believing. Those sincere dark eyes and expressive eyebrows – the librarian could tell her that it was raining grape juice and Claire would grab a bucket and run outside.

If Mary said she would fit in then she surely belonged here, the farmer supposed. Claire nodded dumbly once again; she was certain she looked absolutely ridiculous to her. Mary was so put together – her glasses made her look so very clever and smart and her eyes gleamed with experience.

"Ah, and this is my friend, Gray," Mary gestured toward the apprentice blacksmith, who was standing rather closely beside her behind the desk. The pair had a large book open, and Gray seemed to be marking a spot with his finger. The young man looked up at Claire.

"Hello… Claire." The farmer was surprised he knew her name.

"Oh, you two have met already?" Mary smiled, looking between the pair as she weaved her fingers together. The farmer noted with a twinge of jealousy that she had no dirt under her carefully trimmed nails; Claire jammed her hands into her pockets, embarrassed.

The blonde nodded in reply, unable to speak. It was no wonder why Gray was good friends with the beautiful young woman. In just the few sentences she had heard, a sense of gentle serenity washed over her. Overwhelmed by the apparent close relationship between the two, Claire reddened. "W-well, I was just stopping by… I-I have some work to do, so I'll stop by longer some other time," she managed to squeak out as she slowly backed out toward the doorway.

Mary frowned as she raised her eyebrows. It appeared that she was genuinely upset to see Claire leave so soon. "That's… too bad. See you around."

"Yeah," Claire's voice cracked. She turned around and left the building, afraid to look back.

The young woman knew that she was being silly, but she found herself unable to help it. She had run home and thrown herself on the bed, tears streaming down her face. Why did she care so much about the apprentice anyway? When did he ever show an interest in her? Mary seemed like a sweet girl, but Claire knew she was already dismissing her as a friend because of her connection to Gray. The librarian was intimidating in the fact that she was approachable, if that made any sense. Of course the apprentice would flock to someone like Mary. Claire hated her already. The young woman bit the inside of her cheek as punishment. She was being stupid; stupid and immature.

Claire's knowledge of Mary's existence caused the farmer to lose all desire to go back into town. She spent all of her days at the farm, pouring herself into her work in order to ease her broken heart, and she only went to the village to buy seeds. Occasionally, Claire would bump into a few of the residents, and they all seemed slightly annoyed that she had been ignoring them by not introducing herself for so long. The young woman would mumble out a weak introduction and hurry over to the store so that she could buy her seeds and return to the solitude of her farm.

She had grown up in a crowded house with her two older sisters and two younger brothers. Her parents were always very busy, and she had spent most of her childhood by herself, but she still found that she was lonely in her new home. Of course, Koro followed her like a shadow, but it was human contact that the young woman craved. She was used to working in her busy office, seeing the same people every day. Sure, they weren't close, but at least they were people. She missed her elderly neighbor that lived down the hall in her apartment complex; the widower would make small talk with her and share his leftovers.

Claire drooled. She hadn't had a hot meal since she left the city.

The ceiling had stopped leaking.

Drip. Drip.

New tears sprang from her eyes and fell onto the wooden floor below as she sat on the edge of her bed. She was hungry, tired, and painfully lonely. Claire shivered under her blanket and made a silent promise to herself. Tomorrow, she would take care of this.

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Author's Note: I'd love to hear what you think of the new Chapter 1. Leave me a review in the comment box below! :D