Chapter Ten

A few days later, while Amalia was in a shed sorting scrap metal and weighing its value as trade, Carina sought out Donovan where he was spreading compost on what would be their bean field in the spring. "I've got something for you. Don't worry about walking the fences when you're done with this field. Just wash up good and find me. I'll be with the animals."

Donovan didn't bother to ask which animals, because with Carina there was never any telling. She might say she was going to spend the afternoon trimming the goats' hooves only to be found mixing a new udder cream or walking a fence line, looking for a missing guinea hen, the goats forgotten. There wasn't much point in pinning Carina to a schedule. She did what needed doing in her own way, in her own time. Under her care the animals produced so well that Donovan had noticed a reluctance on Amalia's part to criticize any of Carina's other failings as a homesteader.

After he finished composting the small field, he returned the equipment to the barn, rubbed the jenny down and turned it loose in the paddock. Next he went to the garden to take a shower in one of the two stalls set up under bins that warmed the water in the sun, then put on some clean clothes and set off in search of Carina. He selected the goat paddock as a likely place, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he went down the path. He tried to hide the fact that he still tired easily, but it showed up in his limp, like a conscience that wouldn't let him tell a lie.

Carina wasn't at the goat pen, although Donovan saw evidence that she had been there in the form of a full water trough and several placid goats feeding from an overflowing hay bin. The jennet named Goneril stood nearby, watching the scene with sleepy eyes. Carina had told him donkeys were good guard animals, but on a day like today, he wondered just how much truth there was to this assertion. Goneril didn't look alert enough to notice a predator if it walked under her nose.

He found another jennet, this one named Cordelia, alone in a separate paddock on the other side of the barn. She was favoring a foreleg and Carina was keeping her away from the others to prevent reinjury. Cordelia was a friendly creature who craved companionship, and Donovan thought the solitude a little cruel as she trotted up to him for a rub and a handful of weeds.

The only place left for Carina to be was the chicken coop, and sure enough that's where he found her, mending a small hole in the fence of the ranging area. She worked steadily, but still found time to coo and chat with the fat, silky-feathered hens that had gathered to investigate the proceedings. It was the rustle in the flock and not the sound of Donovan's footsteps that drew her attention. She set down her tools and sat back on her heels. "I hope you didn't have any trouble finding me."

"Not too many places you can be."

Carina sighed and looked a little glum. "It’s too bad, isn’t it? I want to add some sheep, a horse or two and maybe a few alpacas, but Amalia says we've got as much as we can handle as it is. I suppose she's right."

"What's an alpaca?"

"What kind of education are they giving in the cities these days? They're kind of like a small sheep with a long neck. Their wool is good for weaving winter clothes and blankets. They come from South America. You know where that is, right?"

"Of course," Donovan said, proud to show off the knowledge of military history that he had been given in the Guard. "That's where Venezuela is, where we sent our troops to get more oil. Only they didn't have as much as they said they did, and they set the wells on fire so we couldn't get any of it. It was a big loss."

Carina frowned. "Yes, the loss of life in that country was tremendous. But you probably mean the loss of the oil, right?" Before he could answer she shrugged. "It's okay. You were taught what's important now, and oil is precious. It's life that's cheap. Give me a second to finish this fence and we can go to the barn together. I've got something for you." She bent back over the fence and twisted a new piece of wire in place with a pair of needle-nose pliers.

"Need any help?"

"No, it's strictly a one-person job." She tinkered a few minutes more, then sat back and gathered her tools. She cast a fond look at the chickens as she stood up. "Be good, chickies. You won't be going anywhere now."

* * *

In the barn, Carina handed Donovan a strange looking contraption of steel rods and leather bands. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's a leg brace. A very old fashioned one, but it will do the job."

"But my leg is getting better, isn't it?"

"This isn't for you to wear around here. It's for when you go to town."

Donovan caught her meaning. "To make any informers think I'm worse off than I really am."

"That, and to make sure you don't walk too normally. Just to be on the safe side, I was thinking we might also put a tack in your shoe so you won't be tempted to put your full weight on that leg."

"I don't think I'll need a reminder. The last thing I want is to get picked up."

"Well," Carina said, "Things happen and we get distracted." The look in his eyes made her pause. "Okay, you know best on that one. But do try the brace on. If it doesn't fit, I'll need to adjust it."

"Where did you get this thing?" he asked as he buckled the straps of the hinged device onto his leg. "I hope it doesn't feel as barbaric as it looks."

"It probably will. That's the point." Carina helped adjust a strap near his ankle. "I got it when I was on the reservation. It had been in a barn for years along with a lot of other stuff no one used. They didn't mind giving it to me, and I was able to fix it with some old harness leather." She stepped back to admire her clever handiwork. "Well, you certainly look handicapped."

Donovan took a lurching step forward. "I feel it, too."

"Walk up and down the barn a little. See if maybe this is something you can get used to."

Donovan dragged himself out of the tack room and went lurching and thumping across the dusty floor. At the end of the row of stalls he turned around. "I definitely won't be walking normally."

"Great. Maybe we can skip the tack in your shoe."

"Uh, yeah. I think so." Donovan reached down to adjust a strap. "And maybe we can oil this hinge a little, too."

"And make it easier for you to walk? No way."

"But I have enough trouble getting around as it is. I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but don't you think it's a little much?"

Carina pursed her lips. "We’ve got a few days to make any final decisions. But in the meantime, won't you please practice with it a little for my sake?"

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