Blue Willow Read Online Free PDF

her face. She opened her mouth and wailed for a moment.
    He had saved her from bouncing on the floor. He had done something worthwhile, something that made all his shame and family secrets seem unimportant. If he could do this, he could do anything, save everyone and everything who depended on him. He loved her, and he would never be the same.
    “I’ve got her!” he said loudly, and repeated it several times. Tears slid down his face. “I did it! I caught her! She’s gooey and funny-looking! Isn’t she great?”
    “Artie, hold her up, hold her up so I can see if she’s all right.” Mrs. MacKenzie took long, hoarse breaths of relief. Trembling with worry over every movement, he lifted the baby higher.
    Mrs. MacKenzie’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Look at her, oh look,” she crooned. Artie put her in Mrs. MacKenzie’s outstretched hands and sat down limply on the bloody chaise. Mrs. MacKenzie laid the baby across one thigh and sat up gingerly, pulling her dress down over her private parts and the long umbilical cord. “Artie, youdid just fine,” she said, smiling wearily at him. “I tell you what, you’re one brave little man. And I’ll promise you this—you’ll never see a first baby born that fast again. I bet I set a record.”
    He stared fixedly at the baby. She opened her eyes. “She’s looking right at me! Hello, little girl.” His lungs were bellows, and he wanted to shout with excitement. He knew he’d never forget this moment. “What’s her name?” he whispered.
    “I don’t know. It’s bad luck to name a baby before it comes.” They sat in silence for a moment, while Mrs. MacKenzie rubbed the baby dry with the hem of her white cotton slip. Motherly tenderness radiated from her hands and eyes. For a heart-stopping second Artemas wondered if she might bend down and lick the baby, the way animals did. But she only lifted her to her chest, dragging the bloody cord, and cuddled her. The baby mewled softly against the mounds of Mrs. MacKenzie’s breasts. Her dried hair was a lighter red than her mother’s.
    “What do you think her name ought to be?” Mrs. MacKenzie asked.
    Artemas, transfixed, almost said “Carrot,” then kicked himself for being so stupid. He thought immediately of the flower bulbs he had helped Mr. MacKenzie plant in one of the gardens that morning. On the burlap sack that held them was a color picture of the flowers in bloom, and he’d never seen anything like their soft orangy red until now.
    “Lily,” he blurted.
    “Lily. Lily.” The baby mewled again. “I think she likes that.” Mrs. MacKenzie looked at him thoughtfully. “Lilies are strong and pretty. They endure. Lily. Yes sir, I like that a lot. I bet Mr. MacKenzie will too.”
    Artemas thought his chest would burst with happiness. “You mean you’ll name her that? Really?”
    “Really. Lily MacKenzie. Because you’re a special boy, and you helped bring her into the world. See? We MacKenzies and Colebrooks are stuck together like glue. Been that way for one hundred and twenty years. Probably’ll be that way forever.”
    Artemas reached out gently and touched one of the baby’s outflung hands. The tiny fingers curled around his. He sighed. Everything was all right. There would always be MacKenzies and Colebrooks here at Blue Willow, and it would always be a place to love. Lily MacKenzie owned him, heart and soul.
    The long black car brought him to the MacKenzie farm on the last day. He was dressed in a black jacket, linen shirt, tie, knee-length gray shorts, white socks, and stiff black shoes. His black hair had been brushed by the nanny until his head hurt. He had promised himself he would not cry. He was important now. He had to be strong.
    The farm sat in a big hollow surrounded by forested hills. If he had been allowed, he would have climbed them one more time to look at Victory Mountain, miles away His ancestors had owned the land all the way to that mountain, but Grandmother had to sell that