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“Someone’s here!” Drew said, looking up with delight. He set down his pencil.
“Don’t even think about it. Back to work, kiddo.” Willow rose and walked toward the front room as a knock sounded on the door.
“It’s me,” called Aunt Helen.
“Come in.”
The door swung open, and Helen blew inside. After greeting the children and getting hugs, she spoke to Willow.“I know it’s a school day. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I only need a few minutes. I have a couple of things out in the golf cart I’d like to show you if you can steal a minute.”
“Sure we can!” Drew piped up.
“You sit right back in your chair,” Willow said to her son. She smiled at Helen. “Always good to see you, Auntie. Drew is working on his own right now, anyway. Emma, want to take a break and play outside for a few minutes?”
“Can I bring my animals?”
“You may. Put them in a grocery sack, and they’ll be easier to carry.”
“Okay,” Emma replied.
Drew whined. “But Mom—”
Willow cut her son off with aDon’t startlook. Emma scrambled down from her chair, pulled a plastic sack from a cabinet, and loaded it up with pipe cleaners. Then Emma and Willow followed Aunt Helen outside.
One of Raindrop Lodge’s electric utility vehicles sat in the circular drive at the front of the cabin. Willow saw that the vehicle’s bed contained several signs as Emma dashed toward the woods opposite the house. She called, “I’m going to put my animals in the woods, Mama.”
“Okay. Just don’t go beyond the play area.”
“I won’t!”
As Emma scampered off, Aunt Helen turned to Willow and asked, “What in the world is your mother doing in New Mexico?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. I haven’t talked to her. I missed a call from her on Monday, but she left a voice mail saying she was going to New Mexico for ten days. She didn’t say why, and she hasn’t returned my calls or texts other than to text backsaying she arrived safe and sound and would call when she came home.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve been a little worried about that.”
“So what’s the skinny?”
“She’s taking a drawing class at an artists’ colony. She wants to find her passion.”
Aunt Helen’s jaw dropped. A wounded look fluttered across her eyes. “Without me?”
Willow didn’t know how to respond to that, so she tried changing the subject. “What do you want to show me?”
“I’m canvassing votes.”
“Already? That was fast.”
“For my logo. I had Sylvia Lawrence do a mock-up, and these are my choices. I like the graphics of all three, and I’ll probably use them all, but I need to settle on a color palette. I can’t make up my mind.”
“Hmm.” Willow picked up the top sign and studied it. The wordsMCDANIEL FOR MAYORwere fashioned in the four colors of the Colorado state flag—blue, red, white, and gold. A second version was done in American red, white, and blue. Willow eyed the third and asked, “I love the white and lavender, but do the colors represent something?”
“The state flower. The columbine.”
“Oh yes. Well, it’s probably my favorite, but I think the Colorado flag colors are a stronger message.”
“Good point. Thank you, sweetheart. So, tell me more about your mom and this artists’ colony.”
