Chapter One: The Party

Rose was trying hard to maintain a certain air of disinterest in Mr. Bilbo’s birthday party. This was difficult. Of course, in her nearly eighteen years she had been to any number of birthday parties, even one or two up at Bag End, but nothing like this. This was going to be the biggest event to hit Hobbiton in living memory and when the Cotton family first received their invitation Rose had been so excited she could barely speak. Her brothers had teased her unmercifully for this and now she was deep into damage control. She was not a child anymore, after all, even if she wasn’t quite into her tweens yet. She had to behave more like an adult if she was ever going to get treated like one. And getting treated like an adult was high on Rose Cotton’s priority list.

Therefore she went about her party preparations quite calmly, at least on the outside, and if her heart speeded up a bit while she was doing this, she consoled herself with the thought that no one would ever know but her. And indeed, after a day or two, her brothers grew tired of teasing her and moved on to more interesting targets.

Of course, she didn’t do as good a job disguising her excitement as she thought. Her mother could tell easily that her only daughter was nearly beside herself. Lily Cotton was making Rose a new dress and could feel the girl’s pounding heart through the fabric as she stood for a final fitting, the night before the party. The girl continued to speak of other things, however, and Lily simply smiled to herself, remembering a time when she also had tried so hard to be grown-up.

"There you go, Rosie. That’s the last pin. Now, let’s get this dress off you so’s I can finish sewing up these hems tonight." Lily began the careful process of undoing buttons and pulling the dress over her daughter’s head without pricking her. Rose quickly pulled on her everyday dress, pulling tight the ties at the bodice. There were chores to be done and they wouldn’t do themselves, as her father constantly reminded her. Still, she lingered a moment longer, running a finger along the lovely blue fabric of the dress her mother had already begun hemming. She felt a bit guilty, as she had a slighter older but still good dress that she could have worn to the party.

"You’re so good to me, Mam," Rose sighed. "This is such a beautiful dress." She paused for a moment and then hugged her mother impulsively. "Thank you for being such a lovely mother."

Lily laughed and gave Rose a playful swat on the bottom. "Off you go, lass. Your chores are waiting."

The room was still dark when Rose opened her eyes the next morning. The sun would not be up for another hour or so but there was a lot to do before the Cotton family could get ready to leave the farm. Pushing back the blankets and hopping out of bed, Rose quickly washed and pulled on an old dress. Heading down the hall, she opened the door to her brothers’ room and made certain the boys were up. Amazing how lazy those lads could be sometimes, she thought to herself. Most of them were up but unsurprisingly, Jolly was still sound asleep. She made as much noise as she could upon entering the room. He didn’t stir. Grabbing a pitcher of water in one hand, she pulled his blankets off with the other.

"I’m counting to five, Jolly, and then you’re getting a shower. One . . . two . . . thr,"

"I’m up," the boy mumbled unconvincingly.

"ee . . . four . . . fi,"

"I’m up!" Jolly repeated, sitting up and sighing over the unfairness of life.

Rose stayed a moment longer, until she was sure her brother, less than a year younger than she, wasn’t planning to lie back down as soon as her back was turned. Once he had climbed out of bed and splashed some cold water on his face she knew it was safe to leave him.

Entering the kitchen with a cheery "Morning, Mam, Da.," she poured herself a cup of tea and sat down at the big table to have a few slices of bread and jam before going out to feed the animals.

"Well, and how are you this fine morning, Rosie lass?" her da asked.

Rose pulled a face. "Oh, middling, I suppose. Rather boring day ahead."

"Hmm, yes. I suppose it will be, at that. Not much to do after chores are done, but go to that itty bitty party. I don’t reckon that will be very interestin’ for you, now that you’re all grown-up like."

Rose held out as long as she could, long enough to take one sip of her tea, before giving in to the excitement she felt.

"Oh Da! It’s going to be the best day ever! They say there’s goin’ to be fireworks. Real fireworks from Gandalf! And presents from all the way on the other side of the world. And Mari told me she saw dwarves at Bag End! Dwarves! Do you think any of them will be at the party? I’ve never seen a dwarf."

Her da smiled at her ebullience. He had to admit he was looking forward to the party as well. But there was a lot still to do before there was time for fun. Setting his teacup on the table, he stood up.

"Come along, Rosie lass. The sooner we get our work done, the sooner we can have our fun."

Rose nodded, face shining still with excitement, and followed her father through the backdoor of the old farmhouse. The cool predawn air helped to settle her as she scooped out a pail of chicken feed and began scattering it in the yard. When that was done, she moved on to the hogs. By the time she had fed all the animals and mucked out the sheep pen, she was feeling a little calmer, though still reciting to herself all the wonderful things that were going to happen that day.

The breakfast bell rang just as she finished washing off. She hurried inside, feeling as though she hadn’t eaten in a week. Breakfast was a warm and hearty meal at the Cotton farm. A pail of fresh milk sat on the table and there was always a pot of tea, along with great slabs of bacon, hash browns, day old bread with butter and jam, eggs fried, scrambled and boiled to suit the tastes of all the various family members, not to mention all sorts of fruit and usually a wedge of cheese as well. Rose ate like the growing lass she was, amazing even herself with the amount of food that she could consume in one meal.

The rest of the morning she spent helping her mother with various household tasks. She washed dishes, tidied up the kitchen and pantry, gathered ripe vegetables from the garden and preparing food for the next day (her mother had assured her that no one would feel much like cooking the day after the party).

Before she knew it, the sun was high in the sky and it was time to get ready. After washing thoroughly she carefully pulled the new dress on and fastened all the buttons. Then it was time to do her hair. Her long, honey-colored curls were usually pulled back in a braid and covered with a scarf when she was working on the farm, but today she was taking special pains to look as nice as she could. She and Marigold Gamgee, her best friend, had spent the better part of their free time this past week planning how to do their hair so that it would be just right for such a momentous occasion. Rose had decided to leave her hair loose but to pull it back with a blue ribbon to match the blue dress her Mam had made for her. She now took her time brushing her hair until it was free of tangles and shining like gold. Then she carefully tied the ribbon. Examining herself critically in the mirror, she decided that the overall image was not bad. She actually looked like a lass instead of a farmhand, for once.

A short time later, the Cottons were standing outside the new white gate at Bag End, being greeted by Mr. Bilbo.

"Tom, Lily, I’m glad you could make it to my party. Little Rosie, look at you. You’re so grown up. I barely recognized you. Well, boys, stand still a moment so I can get a look at all of you. My, you’re all getting more handsome by the day. Please take this with my compliments. I hope you enjoy yourselves."

And with this, they each received a present as they walked through the gate into the party grounds. When she unwrapped her package, Rose found a beautiful silver bracelet that fit perfectly and complimented her dress wonderfully well. The rest of the day passed in a blur for Rose. There were so many things to see and do and eat. She soon found Marigold and the two of them spent the afternoon dancing, playing games, singing songs and listening to music. And eating, of course. There was a seemingly endless supply of food, from freshly steamed vegetables to roasted meats, fresh fruits, cheeses and breads, potatoes sliced, diced, mashed and fried. And pies and cakes and tarts and pastries and cookies and ice cream and more sweets too numerous to mention. Rose and Mari, being the growing hobbit lasses that they were, made sure to sample as much of the food as possible.

As it began to get dark there was a loud sizzling noise and a burst of bright light in the sky. Looking up, the lasses saw that the fireworks had begun. Everything else was forgotten for the time being. The fireworks were beyond anything they could have imagined. Suddenly the lights went out and a great heap of smoke went up. Out of the smoke flew a dragon! Rose and Marigold shrieked, ducked and clutched each other’s hands as the fire-breathing creature circled the hill several times before exploding over Bywater. There was a moment of complete silence as everyone tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Into the stunned silence, Mr. Bilbo announced that it was time for supper. The moment of surprise passed and conversation resumed. All fear forgotten, the girls laughed together and ran off to get in line for supper. There were mountains of food and rivers of drink, and the lines moved quickly. Soon, both Rose and Marigold had plates heaped high with as much food as they could carry. It took longer to find a table that had any room at it but eventually Marigold pointed Rose in the direction of a table with a half-empty bench.

"Look. There’s Sam. He’s got room for us." She waved to catch her brother’s attention and he waved back, beckoning them to join him.

The girls set their plates down and made themselves comfortable next to Marigold’s brother.

"Hullo, Sam. Ta for saving us a spot," Rose smiled her thanks.

Sam nodded affably and chatted with the lasses while they ate. It wasn’t long before plates had been emptied, refilled and emptied again. Rose was feeling full and content. She picked at a piece of apple pie (her third) while waiting for Marigold to finish eating. Music was playing and Rose wanted to dance.

"There now," Marigold pushed her plate away. "I think I’m good, for now." She looked at her friend. "I see your toe tapping, Rosie Cotton. You just give me five minutes to sit here and I’ll be all ready to dance."

Rose laughed. "If you sit here for five minutes, you’ll be ready for nothing more than a nap. You need to get up and move around, Mari." She turned to Sam for support. "Ain’t that right, Sam? It aids the digestion."

"Oh, absolutely, Mari. Rosie’s got it dead to rights," Sam said with a laugh.

"Well, what about you than, my lad?" Marigold retorted. "I don’t see you dancin’ any."

"I didn’t say there was nothing wrong with a nap. I’m feeling a mite sleepy, myself." He rested his head on an upraised fist and closed his eyes. "Nice and cozy this. You two go on and ‘aid your digestion.’ I’ll just sit here and make sure the table don’t run off."

"Don’t be a fool, Samwise Gamgee. Come dance with us." Marigold knocked his arm out from under his head.

Sam mocked an angry growl and swatted at his sister before giving in. The three soon found themselves in the midst of a rowdy dance round. Within minutes they were laughing as hard as they were dancing. As the dance ended, Sam was called away by some friends but the girls continued to dance until they could no longer catch their breath. Grabbing up some drinks, they collapsed on a bench to watch the festivities.

After a few minutes, they noticed a commotion coming from the main tent, where Mr. Bilbo was having his special dinner. A number of very angry and confused hobbits came storming out and it wasn’t long before everyone knew that something very odd had happened. Apparently Mr. Bilbo had made a long, confusing and fairly offensive speech and had then disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

There was much muttering and complaining, with several hobbits threatening to leave the party at once. Somehow, though, none of them did. More wine and ale was handed round and ruffled feathers were soon smoothed down. After a bit the music resumed and people got back to the business of enjoying themselves. The party went on for several more hours, but it wasn’t long before Rose’s parents came to collect her.

"Come along, Rosie. We’ve a long way to go and an early morning tomorrow."

"I’m coming, Da."

Rose turned to Marigold and gave her a hug. "I had the best time today."

"Me too. I’ll see you at market on Saturday, right?"

Rose nodded. "We’ll be bringing the cart in."

The girls hugged again and Rose turned to follow her parents. It had been a long day and suddenly she felt very tired, but oh, how much fun she’d had. She skipped to catch up with her family and grabbed her mother’s hand, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder for a step or two.

Lily Cotton looked at the happy glow on her daughter’s face and was struck by how pretty she looked. "My, how she’s growing up. She’s not my little lass anymore. Oh well, she’s my lass still, for a few more years at least."

"And did you enjoy the party, Rosie?"

"Mmm," Rose nodded, too full of thoughts to put any of them into words. The rest of the walk home passed in a delightful haze, which continued while she fed the animals and finished her other chores, prepared for bed and finally settled under her warm, cozy blankets. Despite her weariness, sleep was a long time in coming as she reviewed the events of a day that had seemed very nearly perfect.

Chapter two: Market day

The day after the party was a quiet day of recovery at the Cottons, as at most homes in Hobbiton. Daily chores needed to be done but the rest of the day was spent in recuperating from the party. The following day was Saturday, which meant going into town to the market. Each Saturday during the harvest months, Farmer Cotton loaded his wagon with produce and went into town with the older children. This week was no exception. The cart was loaded and ready to go before dawn. Rose was sleepy but eager to see Marigold. She wanted to talk about the party with her friend.

The sky was pale with the coming of dawn as the cart approached Hobbiton’s market square. The Cottons quickly unloaded the cart and young Tom drove the cart and pony to the local stable while the rest of the family finished setting the produce in place and generally getting their stall ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before their first customers showed up and within a few hours they were facing a steady stream of hobbits eager for fresh vegetables. By elevenses they were running low on wares and Rose’s Da closed the stall shortly before luncheon, pleased with the fact that all of his produce had sold well. He distributed a few small coins to each of his children before heading for the stables to claim his wagon and pony. He was heading back to the farm but always allowed the children to stay in town for the afternoon, meeting with friends and doing a bit of shopping (or mischief) before coming home in time for supper. They worked hard all week long and deserved a half day of freedom. He chuckled a bit as he watched them scatter to the four corners of Hobbiton. Still laughing, he turned the pony for home and his lovely wife.

Rose added the coins her father had just given her to the few coins in her pouch and nodded in satisfaction. Just enough. If she hurried, she had time to take care of one important errand before going to meet Marigold. She walked across the square to where the artisans’ stalls were located. It took just a moment to find the person she was looking for.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Proudfoot," she greeted the woman sitting behind the stall.

"Ah and a good afternoon ta you, too, Rosie lass. How are your parents?"

"They’re well." Rose chatted with the woman for a moment before getting to the point of her visit.

"Do you still have that necklace I was looking at last week?" she finally asked, a bit shyly.

"Aye, that I do. I thought you might be coming back for that." Mrs. Proudfoot reached into a small box that she kept under the stall and removing a tiny, fabric-wrapped package, handed it to Rose.

Rose carefully unwrapped the fabric and examined the item inside. Smiling in satisfaction, she rewrapped the bundle and pulled out her money pouch. Opening the drawstring, she dumped the contents into her palm and handed over the entire amount. Both sides satisfied that a fair deal had been concluded, Rose placed the small bundle into her pouch, pulled the drawstring closed and tucked the pouch into her pocket, patting the pocket once to be sure everything was safe and secure.

On her way back across the square, she stopped briefly at her father’s now deserted stall to pick up a picnic basket that she had left there earlier. Then she continued on out of town and up the road to Bagshot Row, stopping to knock at the door of number 3.

The door flew open before she had a chance to put knuckles to wood, however, and she found Marigold standing next to her.

"Come on, Rosie. You don’t want to go in there," Mari pulled her confused friend along with her. "May just made an awful mess in the kitchen and Mum is ever so mad at her. It’s best if we just go along quiet-like and get out of the way."

Rose saw that Mari had a covered basket with her as well. The two lasses ambled along the road for about half an hour before finding a nice quiet place for their picnic. They quickly spread a blanket on the grass under a leafy elm and set their food out. It was quiet for a time as they paid more attention to the food than each other, but as the food diminished and their corners filled up, conversation picked up. At first they just went over their memories of the wonderful birthday party and then began speculating on what might have happened to Bilbo Baggins.

"Sam doesn’t think he’s coming back," Marigold shared. "He was up to Bag End today to look over the gardens and see how much damage the party did. He said Mr. Frodo’s inherited Bag End and everything in it, so he guesses that means Mr. Bilbo ain’t coming back. He’s that broke up about it."

Rose knew that Sam idolized Mr. Bilbo. "Poor lad," she laughed. "No more stolen hours in Bag End, I suppose, listening to stories of Elves and such."

"I s’pose not," Mari laughed in agreement. "Still, that’s not all he’s been thinking about lately." She shot a rather arch look at her friend.

"Oh?" Rose asked.

"Oh," Marigold nodded. "It seems that our Sam is sweet on a lass."

Rose looked at the ground, wondering why she was blushing. It was nothing to her if Sam liked a lass. "Hm," she mumbled noncommitally.

"Yes, it seems that he was quite taken by a certain lass in a new blue dress." Marigold was enjoying Rose’s discomfort.

For her part, Rose was having a hard time understanding her own reaction to this news. Her heart was beating much faster than usual and she had a queer, fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath and tried to get herself under control.

Marigold eyed Rose’s high color and rapid breathing. "Maybe the lass in question is a bit taken, herself."

Still Rose said nothing.

"Rosie, are you sweet on my brother?" Mari asked seriously.

Was she? Rose had known Sam most of her life. When she and Mari were small children, they had followed Sam and Tom, begging to be allowed to play with the older lads. More recently, Sam had been a good companion. He was a bit older than the lasses and rather more serious and responsible than most young tweens, with a strong work ethic that was instilled in him by his gaffer but when he wasn’t working he was usually ready for any fun that the young Gamgees and Cottons could come up with. But to be sweet on Sam?

"Rosie?"

Rose looked up at her friend but still wasn’t sure what to say.

"Why, Rosie Cotton! You are. You’re sweet on Sam!"

Rose finally found her tongue. "Don’t be silly, Mari. I am most certainly not sweet on Sam. Besides," and she turned the tables on her friend, "I wouldn’t talk so if I were you. I saw the looks you were giving our Tom during the sheep-shearing contest. Maybe we should talk about that for a little while."

Now it was Marigold’s turn to color and fall silent. In truth, she thought Tom Cotton had looked quite fine the other day. Before she was aware of it, her lips had curved into a shy smile. She tried to rid her face of the give away expression but, oddly enough, the smile seemed to have a mind of it’s own and was soon covering her entire face. The only thing left to do at this point was ‘fess up to the truth.

"Well, he did look quite handsome, didn’t he?"

Rose laughed in astonished surprise at her friend before finally giving in. "Hmm. Yes and I s’pose I did like dancing with Sam. That doesn’t mean I’m sweet on him," she added when she saw Mari’s expression of delighted astonishment.

Both lasses had a good laugh at themselves but soon calmed down. They continued to gently tease each other as they packed up the remains of their picnic. Rose walked with Marigold back to Bagshot Row and then turned for home. She walked quietly through town, deeply absorbed in her thoughts, not even noticing when Tom and Jolly joined her. The two lads had to move in front of her and block her progress before she finally looked up and noticed them.

"All right there, Rosie?" Tom asked in concern.

Rose quickly pushed all thoughts of dancing and other nonsense out of her mind, for the moment at least.

"I’m fine, ta for asking. Now that you’re here, though, you can carry my basket for me," and she handed over the empty picnic basket. With a sudden grin she quirked an eyebrow at both of her brothers. "Last one home gets to muck the pony stalls!" and lifting her skirt, she took off at a dead run. Tom and Jolly exchanged one look before shouting and chasing after her. Apparently, there wasn’t anything wrong with their sister, after all.

Chapter Three: A Simple Question

"How about this one, Rosie?" Marigold held up a sweet, green dress embroidered with pale yellow and blue flowers around the hem and on the sleeves.

"It might do," Rose replied doubtfully. She held the green dress up next to a deep pink one of slightly different design and eyed the two of them, trying to imagine which would be better for the picnic the next afternoon. It was late spring and the Gamgee and Cotton lads and lasses were taking advantage of the improving weather. It promised to be a lovely party, if only Rose could make up her mind which dress to wear. After pondering for several minutes, she came to a conclusion.

"I think you’re right, Mari. The green is definitely better if only because it will hide grass stains better."

That decided, she put both dresses back in the wardrobe and turned to other, more important, matters. Namely, baking some pies for the aforementioned picnic.

"I thought apples might be nice in the pies," Rose stated as she pulled a basket full of the fruit from the pantry.

"Maybe we could make some blueberry pies as well. The bushes out back are practically bursting with berries." Marigold looked with longing out the window.

"I think you’re right, Mari. Some blueberry pies would go over a treat. Tom’s always raving about your blueberry pies."

Marigold blushed slightly but otherwise didn’t acknowledge that comment. "I’m glad that’s settled then," she said. "I’ll just go pick some berries whilst you cut up the apples."

With the labor thus divided, the lasses set to work. It took only a few moments to collect enough berries for several pies and soon Marigold and Rose were singing and chatting away over their unfinished pastries. By tea time there were several apple and blueberry pies cooling on the window sill and both lasses had worked up an appetite.

"Will you stay to tea?" Rose asked her friend.

"Sorry Rosie, Mum asked me to come home early today. She wanted some help sewing up the new curtains for the parlor and I promised to work on them this afternoon."

After seeing Mari off, Rose quickly set a pot of tea to steep and pulled several loaves of bread, a large amount of fruit, cheese and salted pork from the pantry and set it on the table along with one of the pies she and Mari had baked that afternoon. She was just in time. Her father and brothers came in from the fields as she finished putting out the plates and silverware. There was a great hustle and bustle for the next several minutes as everyone washed up and sat down at the table. Soon everyone was present except for Lily, who had gone to help a neighbor with a sick child.

Most of the meal was consumed in cheerful silence. Finally Farmer Cotton pushed back his chair, sighing contentedly. "That pie was down right tasty, Rose," he commented. "You’re getting to be a right good cook, just like your mother, bless her heart."

Rose’s cheeks pinked up a bit with pleasure at the compliment. "Why, thank!ee Da."

"Don’t let it go to your head, Rosie," her older brother teased her. "Remember, it was only last week that you scorched the chicken something fierce."

"Aye, I do remember," the lass retorted. "Apparently better than you. For I do believe that it was you, Tolman Cotton, who created such a ruckus in the yard that we all came running to see if you’d been killed, only to find that it was nowt but you in the pond with a swarm of angry bees after you. By the time we’d all calmed down and come back inside, the chicken was burnt. I suppose next time we hear you hollering like that, we’ll all just ignore it in order to be certain the food don’t get ruined."

Tom shifted in his seat but otherwise showed no sign of embarrassment. "You just be sure and do that then." He grinned at his sister and despite herself, she grinned back.

"Right then," their da spoke up. "We’ve all got work that needs doin’. Rosie, your mum should be back soon and I expect she’ll be awful tired. Why don’t you make up another pot of tea and some nice sandwiches for her?"

"Yes, sir." Rose had already had it in mind to do just such a thing. First, she cleared up the mess from their tea, piling plates in the sink to be washed, wiping down the table and sweeping the floor. Next, she set a pot of water to boiling for tea and then set to on the dishes. Within an hour the room was set to rights, the tea was steeping and a tray of sandwiches and cakes had been prepared and covered for mum.

Lily was exhausted when she returned home. She had spent the day with the Bracegirdles on the next farm over. They were a young couple with only one child. Their lad had been caught out in a terrible storm a week ago and had been very ill since. They were overwhelmed with trying to care for the sick child and keep up with the ever present demands of farm life as well. Lily had gone down for the day to do what she could to help. She had cleaned the house and cooked as much food as she could, preparing several meals so that poor Mrs. Bracegirdle could focus on her child. Now she wanted to do nothing more than put her feet up and sit for a spell.

"Poor Mum," Rose sympathized. "Go get settled in the sitting room and I’ll bring you your tea."

In a few minutes, Rose had her mother comfortably settled in a cozy armchair with her feet up on a footstool in front of a cheerily crackling fire. Lily relaxed into the chair with a sigh.

"So how’s Ned doing, then?" Rose asked after giving her mother time to drink her tea in peace.

"Better, the fever’s down and he’s breathing easier. It’ll be awhile though, before he’s up and about." She paused to nibble on a cake. "His poor parents are a wreck. It’s the first time either of them had to deal with a serious illness and they’ve been terrible afraid." Lily smiled. "I remember the first time young Tom was sick. Oh, what a fuss we made over him. We probably near to killed him with all our worrying. My mum finally stepped in a put a stop to the fussing. Of course, she confessed to doin’ the same thing when I was a babe and I daresay you’ll do the same with your first child, too."

Rose laughed, enjoying the story. "I’m real glad Ned’s doin’ better. Now, you just sit here and rest while I get supper on." Rose leaned over and kissed Lily’s cheek affectionately before returning to the kitchen. She was kept busy for the rest of the evening, preparing a hearty stew for dinner and then cleaning up the remains after everyone had eaten. She didn’t let Lily do any of the work, knowing her mum had done enough work for several days at the Bracegirdles’.

By the time she crawled into bed that night she was worn out. Even so, it took her a long while to fall asleep. She was thinking on many things. She was looking forward to the picnic the next day. It had been a particularly wet and cold spring and this was the first chance they’d had for an outing in a long while. She hoped Sam would be able to join them. He had been taking over more and more of the responsibility for the grounds up at Bag End and didn’t have as much free time as he used to, but he’d told Marigold that he would try to make it for the afternoon.

Even after four years, Rose still hadn’t really reconciled her feelings for Sam. It was all so confusing. There were times when she was sure that she cared for him, but other times she thought that the very idea of loving Samwise Gamgee was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard of. She was still very young, of course, barely into her tweens. Still, she was remembering the story her mother had told her that evening and trying to picture herself sometime in the future with a child of her own, a fine young lad or lass to take care of and love. Somehow, it seemed that Sam was always there, in her imaginings, whether she wanted him or not, looking over her shoulder at the wee bundle in her arms, or holding the child himself. This was ridiculous, of course, but none-the-less, there he was. Finally, after tossing for nearly an hour, Rose drifted to sleep, after giving up altogether on trying to oust Sam from her fantasy.

The next morning flew by. There was a bit of spring cleaning to be done still and Rose wanted to get a lot done so she wouldn’t feel guilty leaving in the middle of the day. She helped her mum take down the curtains in the parlor and wash them. She also took the rugs out to beat them and let them air out. All of the bedding needed to be aired out as well, but that was tomorrow’s job. Finally all the chores were done, the wagon was loaded and everyone was ready to go.

"Come on, Rosie. Up you get," Tom helped his sister onto the bench before climbing up beside her. Jolly, Nick and Nibs hopped into the back and they were off. In less than half an hour they were on the road leading up the Hill. They were greeted outside the Gamgees’ hole by Bell Gamgee.

"Hullo, young Tom," she spoke cheerily. "You’ve got a lovely day for your picnic."

"That we do, Mrs. Gamgee," Tom replied. "Why don’t you join us? There’s always room for one more."

"That’s very kind of you, lad. It’s not quite warm enough for my old bones. I think I’ll just stay at home and have a nice tea in front of the fire," she said with a laugh. "But I’ll send the lasses out to you now." With that she turned and entered the smial.

It took only a moment for Daisy, May and Marigold to join the Cottons, with several well-laden baskets. Tom climbed down from the wagon and handed each of the lasses up, lingering just slightly while helping Marigold.

"Thank’ee Tom," she said with a smile, her cheeks turning rosy. She looked about. "Is Sam not here yet?" She frowned. "He promised to come."

"And here I am, Mari." Sam was walking down the hill from Bag End. "Sorry I’m late, I was helping Mr. Frodo replace some damaged shutters and it took longer than I thought it would." He nodded to Tom and swung up into the back of the wagon. Tom climbed back onto the bench and they were off.

They headed west of Hobbiton, going several miles before starting to look for a likely place to stop. Eventually they came to a small pond in the midst of a shallow vale full of wild flowers and sweetly scented grasses. Everyone climbed out of the wagon and stood about, taking in the fresh air and the beauty of the day.

"Right, who’s up for a little walk before lunch?" Daisy was eyeing a path meandering up the slope of the vale with interest.

"Maybe we can find some mushrooms," mused Jolly, whose passion for the fungi was legendary in his family. Nibs’ eyes lit up at that. His passion was nearly the equal of his brother’s.

"Fine," Tom laughed, "You two go hunt mushrooms, but don’t get lost and don’t be gone too long. We’ll eat all the food without you." Jolly was barely into his tweens and Nibs was only sixteen. Neither lad was terribly responsible and both needed a lot of looking after. Looking delighted, the two disappeared in short order.

Tom opted to take a short nap, having worked quite hard on the farm that morning, but the rest joined Daisy on the path she had spied out. The young hobbits walked along quietly for a time, speaking in hushed voices as they explored. Soon, Nick started singing a favorite walking song and before long everyone was singing and laughing.

Rose moved away from the group. She had spied some small, white flowers and wanted to investigate. When she got close enough, she was pleased to see that her guess was correct. The field was covered with strawberry vines. Further examination showed that many of the vines held small, ripe berries. Humming happily to herself she began to pick the succulent fruits, filling her pockets.

"Here, let me help you, Rosie." Startled, Rose looked up, surprised to see Sam standing there. She had been so intent on her task that she hadn’t heard him approach.

"Of course, Sam." She smiled warmly at him. "I think there’s enough here to take back for everyone." They made an efficient team and it didn’t take very many minutes to pick the vines clean.

Sam looked around and grinned ruefully. "We seem to have been left behind, the others are nowhere in sight."

"Faithless friends, to leave us stranded here." Rose grinned back. "P’raps we shouldn’t save any of these tasty berries, after all." So saying, she popped one of the tiny red fruits in her mouth. "Oh, these are delicious. Here, Sam, try one."

After tasting the berry, Sam was forced to agree that they were indeed very fine. The two settled to the ground to enjoy their little snack, forgetting any plans to share the treasure they had found.

"Well, that’s all of them," Rose stated after searching her pockets in vain.

"I think I have one left," and Sam held out one last juicy strawberry. "Here, Rosie. You take it."

"Don’t be silly. It’s yours. You should eat it."

The lad looked at the berry in his hand, torn between his desire for the fruit and his desire to please Rose.

"I’m stuffed," he lied. "I couldn’t eat another bite. You may as well eat it. Otherwise it’ll go to waste."

Rose laughed, but allowed herself to be persuaded by this argument. "Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we? I suppose I can make a small sacrifice and eat the poor berry."

Having finished their snack, they laid back in the grass and pointed out cloud pictures to each other.

"Look, Sam. There’s a sheep that’s been half sheared."

"D’ya see the little cloud over by that tree, Rosie? Don’t it look just like a hawk?"

"That one over there looks like a face, don’t you think?"

"Aye, and the bigger one next to it looks a bit like a boat." Sam paused for a moment. "I think it’s an elven boat and the face belongs to one of the elves. He’s going to the Grey Havens to set sail, leaving Middle Earth forever."

Rose sat up and looked at her companion. "That’s a sad thought. Why do the elves leave?"

"I don’t know, really." Sam looked thoughtful. "Mr. Bilbo said they leave because they are fading, or maybe because Middle Earth is fading, or some such." He laughed. "I never was very clear on the why of it. I’m not sure Mr. Bilbo was either. At least, he never was able to explain it very clear to me."

"Do you miss him, Sam?"

"I do. He used to tell such wonderful stories, all full of elves and dwarves and dragons and all sorts of things." He looked so sad for a moment that Rose reached out and touched his hand to comfort him.

"I know most folk considered him a bit cracked, going off to foreign parts with those dwarves and all," he continued, "but there never was a kinder, more good-hearted hobbit in all of the Shire, if you ask me. Why, look what he done for Mr. Frodo, rescuing him from those strange Brandybucks across the river and bringing him to Bag End, where he could live with decent folk." Sam fell silent, leaving Rose a bit surprised. She didn’t think she’d ever heard quite such a speech from him.

"And how ‘bout Mr. Frodo. D’ya like workin’ for him?"

"Oh, aye! He’s a wonderful master. My old gaffer wasn’t too sure at first. He don’t much like change and he’d been working for Mr. Bilbo for most of sixty years. Mr. Frodo does some things a mite different, more casual-like, if you get my meaning. He’s got some odd notions of his own. I’m forever finding him pottering about in the gardens. ‘Course, he always was like that. Must come of that wild childhood of his, no one looking out for him proper an’ all." Suddenly Sam blushed bright red, realizing he’d been gossiping about his beloved master.

"No matter, Sam. I won’t tell anyone," Rose reassured him gently. He looked at her in gratitude and she became acutely aware that she was still holding his hand. Now it was her turn to feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. When she tried to move her hand away, Sam caught it and held on tight.

"Well, it’s about time!"

Rose and Sam both gasped and jumped up, dropping their hands. They had been so absorbed in their conversation that they had not heard the return of the walking party.

"Where have you two been?" Daisy demanded sternly. "I turned around to ask you something, Sam, and you were both gone. No one knew where you’d got to." She sighed a sigh of the much put upon. "Tweens," she muttered, half to herself, "they’re such a lot of work." Daisy had come of age just that spring and felt herself to be a species above these foolish youngsters. However, her dignity was a bit diminished by the wreath of wildflowers she had placed atop her head and which had become sadly askew during her walk. Rose and Sam wisely suppressed their laughter until she had turned back to the others.

Rose was quiet on the walk back, resisting Marigold’s demands to be told everything that she and Sam had done, seen, said, felt, thought, or breathed. She was busy thinking. It had taken four years and one afternoon to come up with a certain sure answer to the question Marigold had asked her, although it had been a simple enough question. It turned out the answer was simple, too. A sweet smile came to her lips. She was sweet on Sam Gamgee.