I walked with my grandmother all the way through town, past the marketplace full of shoppers and past the well in the center of the village commons, until the cobblestoned road ended at the top of the tallest hill. A footpath continued in the same direction, down the far side of the hill to disappear into the forest of trees, all shaking their new spring foliage in the warm breeze. A few wildflowers were peeking up through the grasses that grew over the hilltop, but the overwhelming scent was just the grass itself. It was far too early in the season for butterflies. Alas, it"s never too early for mosquitos. But the breeze was keeping them off, if only for the moment.
"I don"t like the idea of you being alone all the time," I said when we"d stopped at the point where cobblestoned road beca
