"

"Pat! Where are you?"

"I'm in Woodstock--great town. I just looked up Heidi and Martin
Merrill."

"How are they?" His father's voice sounded far away.

"Fine. They've got a big place. She's nice, makes good coffee. Martin
plays the fiddle." Patrick paused. "His hands, Dad, they are just like
yours--like mine. He reminds me of you." Patrick ran out of words.
There was a brief silence.

"It's a long story, Pat. I'll tell you about it the next time we get
together. Martin is your half-brother."

Patrick let out his breath. "I was wondering. I didn't say anything."

His father was silent for a moment. "Maybe that's best, Pat. We
wouldn't want to upset anybody; only a couple of people know. Come see
us at Christmas in Costa Rica or Florida--wherever we end up; we'll
talk about it. Basically, Heidi was afraid she'd never have a baby."

"Dad, look, I've got to go. Thanks for telling me. I won't say
anything. I'll let you know about Christmas. Say hi to Mom." Patrick
hung up softly. He stood for several seconds and then went back out on
the porch where he sat down again and watched the rain. I'll be damned,
he thought. His father must have been about his age when he was in
Woodstock. Patrick saw him in a new way. Heidi must have been
incredible; she was still good looking. It was cool to have a brother,
but it was strange not to be able to say anything. Martin didn't seem
like a bad guy for someone who had it easy.

"Patrick, the window at the end of the upstairs hall is stuck. Could
you close it for me?"

"Glad to." Keep it quiet, he thought, climbing the stairs. Maybe talk
about it at Christmas. See what happens.

6

Willow followed Amber and Art across a small stream. "Much farther?"
she asked. Art pointed through the trees to a small rise.

"Right up there." They emerged onto a shelf-like meadow that dropped
abruptly into a narrow valley. Willow could see nothing but mountain
after mountain in the distance--no roads, no houses. An upright piano
stood by itself in the meadow, the last point of local focus before her
eyes leaped into the space beyond and below.

"Wow!"

Amber and Art chose a place not far from a fire where a dozen people
were sitting and standing, laughing, drinking beer. Willow removed her
pack. She spread a blanket and weighed it down with the pack which held
a bottle of water, two bottles of wine, a paperback copy of Lawrence
Durrell's Justine, and a loaf of her best honey w