Summary: The start of a season, even in the cold, brings about a change in character. And for Chelsea, a change is exactly what she needs. In order to win at least one of the hearts of the men on the islands, she might just have to resort to age-old tactics, even if it means making some enemies along the way.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harvest Moon, Witch Princess and Mark would be a canon pairing.
Chapter 2
1st Winter
Winter was here.
She hated this season. She hated the barrenness, the cold, the sight of her frozen fields.
Trees turn bare, grass springs back into the soil, and the whole island succumbs to a winter stupor, leaving her the scapegoat. Not only did it strip her financially, but after three seasons of plowing, sowing and watering, how was a rancher supposed to pass her time without crops to tend?
The animals would only take less than a morning to handle. It was too cold to fish for long periods. And she feared mining ever since her first time reaching the hundredth floor when out popped a big, terrifying "TAA-DAAA!"
However, this winter was different. This winter, Chelsea was different. She knew exactly how to put her free time to good use.
At the stroke of noon on this sunny first day of winter, lined with an artillery of stir-fried veggies and (what she hoped to be) a winning smile, Chelsea let herself into the shipping household.
The family was awaiting lunch at the dining table when she entered. She caught the smell of vegetable stew steaming by the stove where Felicia stood, stirring the contents with a small hum. The aroma unconsciously drew her in and she shut the door close with a loud bang by accident. At this, old Taro looked up from where he sat.
"Good day! My eyebrows are telling me it'll be cloudy tomorrow."
The rest of the residents looked up as well.
"Oh, Chelsea. Hello." Felicia was now ladling stew into individual bowls. She spared the rancher a quick smile before turning back to the pot.
Elliot smiled at her too while Natalie scowled.
"Are you hungry, dear?" asked Felicia as she began serving the bowls of stew at the table. "You're welcome to stay for lunch."
"Thanks!" Chelsea scooted closer to where Elliot was sitting. "But I'm just here to borrow Elliot if you don't mind."
Apparently, Felicia didn't, but Natalie did. "What do you want with geek-boy?" The youngest pinkette narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Oh, it's grown-up stuff." She matched Natalie's glare with a sly grin. "Won't take two minutes."
Before there could be anymore protest, she grabbed Elliot by the arm and hauled him towards the exit.
"Shut the door," she whispered the second they were out.
He did so tentatively. "What's this about, Chelsea? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she chirped. "Here! For you."
She stuffed something warm into his hands. Something must have gotten lodged in his throat because he gave a spluttering cough that sounded very much like one of her cows on their worst day. His cheeks, nose and ears were quickly turning red and Chelsea knew for a fact that it had nothing to do with the cold.
"Oh." was all he could manage at that point.
"Oh?" She prompted.
"I-I'd . . . I love it, Chelsea. Thank you."
She chuckled. "You look as surprised as you did yesterday. Was it really that bad?"
"Bad?" His eyes widened. "N-not at all. It was very delicious. Better than Mom's even."
"I'm not talking about the veggies. I mean, you know." The point of her red boot started tracing a circle in the snow. She kept her gaze down. "I meant me."
Moments passed in silence, broken only by the lapping of waves behind the house. With each second gone, she felt colder and colder until she realized that she was shivering despite the warmth of her snug winter coat.
"I-I don't think I understand." His voice finally admitted.
She should have guessed he didn't.
"Chelsea . . ."
Or maybe not.
The gentleness of his tone prompted her to looked up.
"Yes?"
The boy hesitated. His feet shuffled uncomfortably, probably from the cold, though Chelsea hoped it was from something else. "I—"
Purposely, she leaned in.
"Yes?"
"Well." He paused, as if he needed to choose his words careful. "I think . . . I think that—"
Chelsea held back a smirk. He made this so much easier for her.
"Thinking to return the favor?" she teased. "I like anything, just so you know."
Elliot blinked in surprised. "I was gonna say that I should get back to lunch. Mom would be wondering . . . But th-that . . . That was definitely unexpected." He admitted at last.
"Oh!" She dropped her gaze once more. "S-sorry. I'm not too good at this."
"N-no! That's not it. I mean, I—" He paused. "You're right. T-to be honest, I feel terrible for accepting something from you twice, and not having anything to give in return. I-I want to show my gratitude! Is there a way I can repay you?"
When she looked up, he had this adorable look of determination and Chelsea couldn't stop herself from smiling. It was too easy.
"Actually." She slid closer. "Actually, yeah! I think there is something you can do. Your grandfather's birthday is the day after tomorrow right? He's been such a great help to me all throughout my time here. I want to make him something special for his birthday, but . . ." Chelsea made a show of sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't really know what he likes. As his grandson, I was wondering if you could come over to the ranch tomorrow and try out a couple of dishes. You know, help me pick out his favorite. If it's not too much trouble of course . . . You don't have to if it is—"
"I'd love to!"
Chelsea beamed. "Great! Come around nine in the morning. I'll have everything prepared then. Well, see ya!"
Just like that, she turned on her heel and went off, her long hair bouncing along with her steps. She didn't look back. If she did, she would have seen the dazed expression on Elliot's face as he stumbled back into the house, as if what had passed between must have been a dream. Was it a dream? He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out.
It was a great start to a lousy season, and as Chelsea was feeling particularly pleased with the day's event, she decided to make her way to the cafe for a midday snack. She was humming as she walked down the road, almost skipping in her step. Until she reached the back of Nick's.
Something made her stop.
There, in all her blonde and blue glory, was Julia. She held a look of outrage that Chelsea never thought she was capable of. It marred her usual beauty, as if her pretty mask got turned inside out. Chelsea simply smiled, because she knew there was no hiding it. Julia had seen the whole thing. After a brief nod in the blonde's direction, Chelsea carried on walking.
However, she had not gotten far when Julia yelled out, "You better leave him alone! I don't know what you're planning, but he's not yours to mess with!"
"Oh?" Chelsea turned around. Her tone was that of amusement with a hint of challenge lacing its edge. "And I supposed his yours?"
Julia faltered and flushed angrily. "What are you planning?" She repeated. "What do you want with him?"
"Same thing you do." The rancher said without missing a beat. "Except if this was a race, I'll be the first over the finish line."
With the most dazzling smile she could muster, Chelsea turned on her heel and continued on the road.
To be continued . . .
A/N: For earlier readers, major reconstruction had been done on this chapter. Part III of Elliot's Arc is up next!
