She paused to admire small blue flowers peeking through the snow at the edge of the road. The endless winter was really ending, and, if this part of Pennsylvania was at all like France, soon spring blossoms would be cloaking the hillsides. She swung the basket in rhythm with her steps. Her fears that the winter would never end had vanished. Life should be taking a turn for the better. This morning before dawn, Philippe had shaken her from sleep and told her to get dressed. It was the first time he had come into the bedroom while she was sleeping. She had raised her arms to him, hoping he would come into them, but he had only tossed her dress toward her as he explained he needed her help because Soyeux’s foal was about to be born. Philippe had been an anxious father. “Hurry, ma petite,” he had urged as she drew on her heavy cloak against the chill left from the night. “I don’t want to leave her alone too long.” “She should do fine.” She tied her cloak closed. “Is it still cold outside?”
