Burton was working in the berry field, trying to exhaust his body to distract his broken heart.

He bent to pluck a particularly low hanging fruit, and caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Cleo, Tansy’s feline shadow, stalking past him down the row of berries in a most purposeful manner.

Burton didn’t like to think of Cleo as lazy, but the beautiful little cat was seldom hurried. Her pace today reminded him of last night, when she had been in a rush to keep an eye on her mistress.

He put down his basket and followed her.

If Cleo was worried about Tansy, he was too.

Oddly though, Cleo was leading him up the hill, toward the trees that formed the western border of the farm.

He wasn’t sure what Tansy would be doing there. Though he wondered if it might have something to do with the missing bees. If Tansy was still hunting for clues then it might have occurred to her to search the woods.

Although Tansy did not seem afraid of the trees, bad things were always happening to women in the woods, at least in the movies Burton had seen. He was glad he had noticed Cleo so that he could stay close to Tansy and defend her from harm.

Just ahead of him, Cleo stepped into the thicket, instantly blending into the dappled shadows of the trees.

Burton jogged to catch up, not wanting to lose her.

As he stepped into the forest the world grew still and dark around him.

This wasn’t like the peach orchard, where the trees stood in orderly rows, spread evenly to allow green sunlight to penetrate the canopy. These were the woods of a dark fairy tale, where a hush lay like a blanket over dark foliage and rich soil.

Burton moved as silently as he could, trying to blend in with this strange new environment.

A light patter in the undergrowth ahead told him that Cleo wasn’t far ahead.

He followed her by sound, hardly noticing the branches scraping his skin.

He could hear the tiny sounds of the cat, the shiver of the leaves in the breeze.

But he did not hear the less subtle sounds of another person.

If Tansy was in these woods, she had a pretty big head start on him.

Soft light began to pervade the gloom. Then the sound of Cleo’s steps disappeared altogether.

Burton began to jog again. After a few minutes he found himself at the edge of a clearing. The sun shone down on the lush green grass.

There was no sign of Cleo.

Close to despair, Burton did what he had to do.

He crouched behind a massive fallen tree, closed his eyes and flung his consciousness out in all directions, hoping to find the little cat.

For a frozen moment there was nothing.

Then he felt the flavor of Cleo’s thoughts and sank himself into her mind gratefully.

She was emerging from the trees on the other side of the clearing, in front of an attractive white house with black shutters.

Though it was surrounded by working fields, the house had a grandness to it that made it seem out of place. It had been freshly painted, the contrast between the white siding and the black shutters felt severe. And the plantings near the porch were restrained in a brick border. Flowers didn’t crawl up the columns here like they did at Martin’s Bounty.

Cleo padded past all that Burton noticed. She was concerned with none of it. What she wanted was up on the porch.

She trotted up the steps.

The next thing Burton saw was Tansy’s ankles as Cleo head butted them and stretched luxuriously at her feet.

“Came to offer moral support, didn’t you?” Tansy murmured fondly.

Just then the door creaked open.

“Tansy Martin,” a familiar voice said.

Burton tried to place it but couldn’t. And Cleo had eyes only for Tansy.

“Hi Miss Strickland,” Tansy said politely.

Ah.

“It’s Dolly, dear,” the voice replied. “Please come in.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Tansy said. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to ask you about what you offered when you came to see us. Would you really want to buy Grandma Helen’s farm?”

Burton nearly stopped breathing.

“If you wanted to sell it, I would be grateful for the opportunity,” Dolly said carefully. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Tansy sighed.

“The bees were a heavy blow, weren’t they?” Dolly asked.

“It’s not just the bees,” Tansy said. “Even if we had the bees and the peaches came in time, it just… it isn’t going to work.”

“Farming is a lot of work and a lot of luck,” Dolly said sympathetically. “You and Sage are young to take on a farm that size.”

“And Sage isn’t really interested,” Tansy said quietly. “I don’t want to burden her with it. Besides, I have other reasons too.”

“Is one of them that good-looking boy you have working for you?” Dolly guessed.

Tansy didn’t answer, but Dolly chuckled.

Burton wished Cleo would look up at Tansy’s face so he could see what was written there.

But she had whipped around to greet another cat, this one black with yellow eyes.

“Jett,” Dolly exclaimed. “You missed your breakfast.”

Jett ignored Dolly and headed right for Cleo, rubbing his neck to hers.

“Young love,” Dolly said ruefully. “You probably see him more than I do.”

“He does come calling pretty often,” Tansy admitted.

“Well, I’ve got to get him fed, and I know you have chores to do,” Dolly said. “My offer stands, so sleep on it, then let me know what you and your sister decide.”

“No need,” Tansy said, her voice tight. “We’ve made up our minds. We’d love to have a couple of days to pack up, but if you want to come by in the morning with the papers, we’ll sign whatever you need to get the sale underway.”

“I’ll bring a batch of my honey muffins, dear,” Dolly said. “We’ll celebrate your new beginning.”

Burton heard the tattoo of Tansy’s footsteps as she jogged off the porch.

He knew her well enough to know she was hurrying so that Dolly wouldn’t see her distress.

Cleo had already turned to follow when he heard Dolly’s low chuckle.

“Gotcha,” she said softly.

There was something sinister in her satisfied tone.

Burton leapt without thinking and landed behind the eyes of the other cat, who promptly dashed in the front door of the too-grand farmhouse.

Before Burton’s eyes, a sea of pink carpet zoomed past. The cat stopped when his paws hit a pattern of pink rosebuds on square tiles.

“Bud,” Dolly said sharply.

Burton tried to look around through Jett’s eyes to see who else was there, but the cat was staring pointedly at his bowl.

“You by yourself?” Dolly asked.

There was a pause.

“Well then leave the house, Peterson,” she said, sounding exasperated.

Burton realized she must be on the phone.

“Okay, you by yourself now?” she asked. “Good. Well, we did it, Bud. They’re going to sign.”

She chuckled again. It was a low, ugly sound.