"Elinor! Give me a hand when you're done up there!" her mother called.

"Just a minute!" It was rare that Ellie bothered to blow dry her hair after washing it. Air drying suited her just fine, even if she were going into town or seeing friends. She looked at her results, but unsatisfied went back to brushing and drying chaotically. It should look nice, but not like she wanted it to look nice.

Newcomers to Wrenview were very rare, so what were the odds that their new neighbor would show up on a day she'd been working in the mud and then entertaining her energetic siblings all morning? Just thinking about the mud-splattered, hand-me-down tee-shirt she had been wearing gave her a chill. And he thought she was her mom! In her head, logically, she knew it was an honest mistake. There was over a decade between her and ten-year-old Ben. Not that it really mattered what this guy thought. It's just the principle of the thing! She futzed with her hair one last time and pulled on her favorite top before running down stairs.

______

Peter pulled up in his pick-up at 5:59 exactly. He sighed, laughing a little to himself. His friends accused him of being overly punctual, and it seemed some habits are hard to break. He grabbed the pie he'd picked up at the bakery in town and made his way to the front door.

The warm cacophony of sounds that only a big happy family can produce greeted him. "Mr. Reid, it's so nice to meet you. I'm Virginia Phillips and this is my husband Gordon."

"Please, just Peter is fine." He shook their hands as he was ushered into the house. The Phillips were an active looking couple in their fifties, both sturdy and somewhat serious compared to their children, but their faces were friendly and welcoming.

"Elinor, take this pie to the kitchen, sweetheart," called Mrs. Phillips.

Ellie appeared from somewhere behind her parents and reached out to take the desert. "Yum, what kind is it?" she asked.

"Apple."

When they had met earlier that day, Peter had noticed that Ellie was pretty. The mud streaked on her face had been cute, and she seemed so at ease in her work clothes. But this Ellie, (or was it Elinor?) with her wavy, light brown hair loose and wearing an easy blouse, was in some realm beyond pretty. Maybe it was the gentle smile she wore whenever their eyes met. I hope she's forgotten what I said this morning.

"Perfect! We just got some vanilla ice cream." She took the pie off to the kitchen.

After some small talk, the large gathering of eight made it to the dining room table with surprisingly little chaos. Peter supposed they were used to organizing big meals, and they seemed like the sort of family to welcome guests often.

"I hope you don't mind, we like to say grace," Mrs. Phillips told Peter. He didn't mind, of course, he just didn't know what to do. His little family, although just as loving, were nothing like the family at the table. He was an only child, and hadn't been raised with any particular religion. But his momentary internal confusion subsided as Ben and little Charlotte, who sat on either side of him, took his hands for the prayer. He was thankful for it; so much so that he forgot all about Lottie's habit of sucking her thumb.

The meal went on peacefully, the family sharing with each other what they'd worked on and played that day. The cows would need their hooves trimmed soon. Ben was reproducing their farm in Minecraft. Emerson was on his third Magic Treehouse book, but the fourth wasn't at the library, so he'd have to wait for it. The conversation turned to Peter and his ranch.

"So, what are your plans for the Thompson ranch?" Mr. Phillips asked.

"I want to raise horses," he responded, a little nervous to be sharing his dream with a man he'd met only an hour ago. "Breed them, train them. I'm thinking I might also give riding lessons, if there's a market for it."

The farmer nodded thoughtfully. "There may be. It's gonna be a lot of work to get that place back up and running though. Have you inspected the property at all?"

"I did a little today and when I got here yesterday. It's definitely worse for wear, but I got a good price given the state it's in."

Mrs. Phillips looked a little concerned. "You'll definitely need some help, Peter. Is your family moving in with you? We'd heard you were married."

"Ah, no, I'm afraid it's just me. My dad came with me to make the deal when I bought it, but he and my mom live a few hours out, up in Granton."

"Well, we'll lend a hand when we can, son," Gordon Phillips said. Before Peter could interrupt, he added, "That's just the way things are done around here." And that was all that was to be said about that.

After dessert, Peter moved to help with the dishes, but Mr. Phillips stopped him. "Did you bring your truck? We've got some extra hay we can't store, and some other odds and ends you might need." His offer before had not been an empty gesture. "Elinor," he continued, "Help him load that up." He looked at his watch. "Go now before it gets late."

They all shared some goodbyes and thank-yous, and Peter and Ellie stepped out into the night air. Compared to the warmth and bright lights in the Phillips home, the darkness was another world. Other than the light spilling from the house, there was nothing but the stars and the moon, and thick night in all directions. Pulling on a jacket, Ellie led him to the barn. They made quick work moving the hay bales, some rope, and some old tools that she insisted they didn't use any more.

Peter climbed into his truck and started to say goodbye when Ellie hopped in the passenger seat.

"You're coming with me?" he asked.

"Well you've got to unload it, too, don't you?" she said with a grin, buckling her seatbelt.

It would only be about a five minute drive to his property, but the idea of sitting in silence the whole way made him nervous, so Peter did his best to strike up a conversation.

"I was surprised that Ellie is short for Elinor," he offered. "I feel like it's not a name you hear that much." He added, "It's pretty," just in case it came off wrong. What did he even know about how popular names are?

"Thanks. My parents are the only people who call me that, though. Everyone else just calls me Ellie." She went on, "My mom's a big Jane Austen fan, so that's why she likes it so much."

"Oh! From Sense and Sensibility, right?" Peter guessed.

"Isn't everyone's mom a big Jane Austen fan," he said with a laugh when he saw the surprised look on her face. "And what about your dad?"

"Oh, he doesn't care one way or the other what he calls me. I think he just calls me Elinor because he dotes on my mom so much." She hesitated, but when Peter didn't respond, she went on. "My mom has had it pretty tough, so my dad is kind of protective of her."

They had pulled up to Peter's barn. He turned off the engine but didn't get out. The air was so still, and with the lights of the truck turned off, they were the only two people in a dark silent sea. She had only met him that morning, but she didn't mind sharing her family's story with Peter. He was looking back at her intently, as if there was nothing in the world that could pull him away from hearing what she had to say.

"A couple years after I was born, I'm not really sure when, my mother had a miscarriage, and she thought she'd never be able to have more children. Honestly, I think her heart was so broken she wouldn't have tried even if she could." Ellie looked at Peter and saw an empathetic expression. She continued. "So, when my brother Ben was born, he was kind of like a miracle. That's why I'm so much older than Ben and Liam.

Peter nodded. "I can see why your parents might want to have a big family after going through all of that."

Ellie smiled a little, then frowned. "Well, that's not quite it," she said, hesitating. "See, Emerson and Lottie aren't actually my siblings, they're my cousins." Ellie noticed the confused look on Peter's face and rushed to fill in the blanks. "My aunt and uncle — my mother's brother and his wife — died in a car accident two years ago."

"I'm so sorry," Peter said.

"When we took them in, Emerson was only four, and Lottie was three. My parents decided it would be best to adopt them and raise them as their own children. They were close with the other kids already, so it was perfect." She looked down and fidgeted with her hands. "Their last name is still 'Todd', but my parents have been talking about changing it to Phillips. I'm not sure it's the best idea. I mean, I don't want them to feel like they're orphans, but I also don't want them to forget who their real parents are." She shrugged off the subject and put on a smile, more forced than her normally very natural one. "Let's get this hay in before I bore you to death."

They did so quickly, and Peter drove her back home and said good night. He wondered how a family could go through such a tragedy and still be so joyful. How would his family have handled taking in an orphaned relative? Peter knew his mom and dad were good people who would do it and anything else they could, but it certainly could not have been easy.