Summery- (Set 1930's) When a drifter stops in a backwoods southern town, he doesn't intend to stick around long, and no one, including himself, could have imagined the effect he has on the lives of everyone involved, including his own. (better than is sounds…heh PLEASE R&R!!!)

Disclaimer- it's original… it's mine…yadda yadda

Tansy Webster is a precocious, wild 9 year old, sometimes too much so for a "young lady". She can't understand for the life of her why she has to be so different from the boys. She likes to play ball and ride bikes and go swimming just as much as they do, and she could prolly whup 'em all at it too.

Marie Webster is a widow, trying as hard as she can to raise her tom-boy daughter properly, keep their farm going when just getting through one more day without her beloved husband by her side seems almost impossible.

Dan Sullivan is a drifter with a mysterious past and the last person you would suppose could help these two, but when fate come knocking, Tansy knows nothing is ever going to be the same again…

Fire and Rain

By: DSC (SJK)

"I've seen fire and I've seen rain,

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end,

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,

but I always thought that I'd see you again."

A.N. Most of the grammatical errors are deliberate

Prologue

It could be worst, Mama always used to say, whenever it looked like I could do with a reminder. She was right, sitting at our kitchen table at dusk, Pa's balding head bowed in prayer, reaching over to take Ma's hand, Benny, our dog, pawing my knee, the smell of supper wafting from the steaming pans… it could be much worse. When the crops started to fail, and prayers were forgotten in hunger's haste, and I would sit up nights listening to Pa coughing in the next room… still things could get worse. But from where I stood on September third 1931, things could get no worse. It didn't rain that day, the day they laid Pa to rest in the dusty unyielding Alabama clay that had taken away everything… I reckon the heavens supposed it wasn't needed, Mama and I more than well made up for it. That wasn't the worst of it though, the crying, crying was easy. My face pressed in my pillow, trying to hide the tears and sobs from nobody… crying was simple. The worst of it was the moving on, the life living that we just couldn't do. The day after day that was nothing but a blur of emptiness and loneliness… Everyday, as I recall, was dark that year, and the year after that and so on until I forgot what I felt so empty for, forgot why I cried myself to sleep every night, and why the sun never shined anymore. Pa was gone, he was never coming back, but I knew that, sure I knew that… but me and Ma must have died too, because we sure as hell weren't living. I was nine and I hadn't really lived in four years. Then one fateful day in early May, 1935, he came, and changed everything, He taught me about just how much worse it couldbe, and the best I could be, he restored life to our world and sunlight to our souls…