Snipet #4

The Martin family of Briar Lane didn't always buy into Willow Falls philosophy. They had always been part of the town, since it had been established at least 150 years before, but they had always had their own way of doing things. Unfortunately, over time, they had forgotten that they were independent women, they had forgotten the magic, and had adopted the ways and common thoughts of the town folk. It was easier than being different. The wind didn't howl quite so loudly outside your windows at night when you were just like everyone else. But, easier isn't always better, and sometimes feeling the hunger is better than feeling nothing at all.

The day that Evelyn was born, as the wind raged outside, Sara Martin did her best to be brave. Although she had forgotten the magic of her mother and grand mother, she lit candles to brighten her bedroom and whispered long forgotten prayers out of fear more than devotion. She had many of her ancestors belongings around her, and that made her feel safer, as if she were still being watched over by them. As the wind rose and the linden tree branches tapped against her windows, her pains rose and fell like the tide. The moon was full that night, which would have been considered auspicious, but as she had forgotten the magic, it meant nothing more to Sara than a little more light shining in her dark little house.

Her labor was fierce and she was frightened, but she couldn't risk trying to go out in the storm to find Mrs. Putnam's house. The elderly woman had delivered many of the Willow Falls residents over the years and was someone Sara trusted with her life. But this time, she was on her own, as the nearest neighbors house couldn't be seen as she looked out of her kitchen window. It was just too dangerous, so Sara decided she could handle things on her own. Women had babies all the time, she reasoned. This is a natural thing, she said over and over. She could handle it. She was a Martin. There was nothing to fear. She heard noises, things being tossed around outside, the house creaked in its foundation, sounding like footsteps just outside her bedroom door.

It's just the wind, she told herself. It's just the wind.