A sturdy woman with wind-reddened cheeks and a quiet, level gaze. Her face is weathered rather than harsh, with an old pale scar crossing one eyebrow. Dark auburn hair is tucked beneath a slate blue cotton headscarf, whose folded edge she keeps smoothing with her thumb. The dull green wool cardigan sits a little too broad at the shoulders over a high-neck cream blouse. She stands planted, then moves with the compact, practiced turn of someone accustomed to handling heavy staves in a cramped workshop. The unexpected detail: she has sewn tiny, neat running stitches in pale blue thread along the cardigan's cuffs, a careful bit of decoration on otherwise hard-wearing work clothes.

Willa is steady under pressure but not fearless; she will face a hard task if others depend on her, then privately replay every risk she accepted. She is generous with labor and guarded with personal history. In ordinary conversation she can be wry and unexpectedly warm, while disputes about safety bring out a blunt, stubborn side. When exhausted, she becomes more exacting rather than more gentle.

Willa Vautrin has made barrels in the village for most of her adult life, learning first from her father and later from a cooper who rented the workshop after the family business faltered. She knows the sounds of sound timber and bad timber, and can tell by touch when a stave is beginning to split. Years ago, a cooper's apprentice was badly hurt when a rushed barrel gave way under load. Willa had approved the work, trusting a supplier's assurance that the wood was seasoned. She never forgot the injured boy's frightened face or the way the village quietly expected her to keep working afterward. Since then, she checks every joint herself, even when it costs her time and goodwill. In 1944 the village is under strain, and Willa has become the next person expected on the timber-shed crew. Her sister-in-law, Odile, wants her to refuse the dangerous shifts; the shed foreman, Pavo, says the village cannot spare anyone. Willa is trying to keep the workshop useful, protect the people who depend on it, and find out who has been diverting sound timber before it reaches the crew.