Romantic Fiction Author Rusty Blackwood shares Willow’s First Chapter …

Continued setbacks! I swear I am about ready to pull out what remaining hair I have left. The novel IS coming folks, and in the meantime, please enjoy Chapter 1 of this delectable, romantic fiction drama.

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Chapter 1

Willow Sutherland-Crosby

 

When trouble faces you down you have two choices — fall in defeat — or stand and fight. Willow Lane Sutherland-Crosby always chose the latter. One might say the Celtic blood in her veins provided the grit to stand her ground when the need arose, and it would have certainly shored-up her determined outlook to prevail at all costs. It could even be said that up until now her entire life had been that of a woman on a mission, but every mission eventually comes to an end, and Willow, now well into her fifty-fifth year, was finding more adversity with each newly risen sun. But do not make the mistake of under estimating her, for she could still hold her own with the best of them, at least in her mind. For quite some time she had felt her age, but was still blessed with a youthful appearance, something her vanity had given thanks for many times. It had even brought her accolades when the fact was divulged that she was a grandmother – three times over – having reached that plateau for the first time at the ripe old age of forty-four. She had often pondered the reason for this fortuitous blessing, as well as the reason she had been chosen to receive it. This unexpected fountain of youth could possibly be attributed to the tireless energy of her grandchildren, for they consistently tweaked her interest, and never settled for the excuse ‘not right now, dear, Grandma’s too tired’. But the long Canadian winter of 2003 was taking its toll on her body, yet she rose each morning to face whatever that day threw her way.

Her job as a residential home cleaner was not an easy one, and from Tuesday, through Friday, she diligently cared for each client’s home as if she were tenderly caring for her own, leaving them spotless on departure. She had conducted this service for many years, but the last few had grown increasingly difficult. Her health was no longer co-operating, and she often found herself sitting, more than standing, yet she carried on, for she had no choice. The prior year had witnessed her twenty nine year marriage to Jonas Crosby hit the rocks in the same fashion a storm-tossed vessel smashes upon a hidden reef. For quite some time she had felt its approaching demise – they both had – yet neither cared enough to secure the help required if they were to salvage even a minute fragment of what they had once shared. Stubborn actions toward an amiable compromise can be a terrible flaw within a personality, but when it’s doubled, the result is complete and utter gridlock. They might have considered marriage counseling, yet to Jonas, who considered his every cent further lining to his impenetrable coffer, marriage counseling seemed a frivolous waste of hard-earned money, but to Willow, who had tried her utmost to make the marriage work at whatever means possible, it simply admitted failure, something her pride would not allow, so they did nothing. Up to this point their marriage had been a fairly good one with Jonas at the helm, and Willow doing her best as first mate. Never once did she look upon that role as secondary in any way, in fact many times it was she who did the main navigating when the marriage waters got rough. But even her best laid plans could not hold them on course once they realized the ship was going down, and the most heart wrenching reality of all was the blatant fact neither cared.

For three despairing years they had labored, trying desperately to salvage the bond they had once thought unbreakable. The early years of their marriage had been hard, yet regardless of what came and went they remained steadfast and loyal, realizing that all marriages go through trying times, even the best of them. In that regard they were no exception to the rule, even though they had married in their early twenties when their friends were still diligently furthering their education, and with the minor exception of a twelve-month separation ten years in, they had managed to jump the largest hurdles and carry on. They endured, not because a marriage license instructed them to, but because they loved each other.

 

Looking back over the years it had not always been that way – at least for Willow – for her life leading up to her first encounter with Jonas Crosby had been anything but serene, or free of un-needed mistakes. Born in 1949 to Shay and Mary Sutherland, Willow was the second of two children being raised on the diary farm owned by her paternal grandfather, Benjamin Sutherland, on the outskirts of Smith Falls in the Upper Ottawa Valley. Like the majority of 1950’s farm children, Willow’s life centered on daily chores which consisted of gathering eggs, feeding chickens, and the hardest of all, assisting her older brother David with the cleansing of stainless steel milk separators before, and after school. It was strenuous work, and while city children spent their summer holidays carousing at the local baseball diamond, the Sutherland children spent theirs working in the fields, tending numerous chores assigned them. Many nights they tumbled into bed so exhausted they were asleep before their head hit the pillow, but when the morning dawned the daily ritual began once again, for this was normal life upon a farm, whether it was cash-crop, dairy, or livestock.  Farm families were a tightly knit lot, everyone pulling together, doing their part, for without consistency the farm could not function, and the families could not make a living.

 

Many of them had emigrated from the British Isles, some settling in the Ottawa Valley and surrounding district, some in other areas, but regardless of their proximity, they all shared the same common link of hard work. However it was not all work without play, and come Saturday night the Sutherland family, along with their neighbors, would happily come together at community dances, where they’d kick up their heels to the rousing jigs and reels provided by the lively fiddles and guitars. As a small child, Willow often remained with her aged grandfather while her parents attended these local functions, but on occasion both she and her brother would accompany them. She dearly loved spending time with her grandfather, listening to his tales of youth in the Valley, the way it had once been, and the importance of family. She tried her best to understand the meaning of it, as well as the necessity, but small children don’t always understand the importance, or what makes it so, yet Willow, young as she was, realized a very unique bond with her father.

 

The years passed, and as childhood gave way to adolescence, Willow, who considered her life boring, found the need to experience exciting new things, often yearning for the desired outcome she had envisioned they would hold. She would frequently ask to accompany her parents to the Saturday dances where she would sit with other young ladies, watching their parents dance the different style each musical selection required, and it wasn’t long before she was learning the numerous techniques of Celtic dance, among other things. It was on one of these occasions when her drab life was about to change.

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