Chapter Sixty-Two

When Carina heard that Amalia was planning to go to Jonasville, she would have none of it. "I'm going."

Amalia looked at her skeptically. "You're in no condition to travel."

"I'm going, even if I have to walk."

Amalia and Donovan conferred privately. "She and I will go," he said. "You stay here with the kids. Get one of the neighbors to come over, if you don't want to be alone."

"I don't care about being alone. I just don't think Carina is up for it."

"I think she's past the worst of it."

"She's practically catatonic, not to mention she won't eat. She'll be a strain on you."

"Maybe getting out in the open and doing something useful will help her get well."

"Or maybe she'll collapse from dehydration and lack of food. That's if she doesn't snap and run off into the desert. Taking her to Jonasville is crazy."

"Not letting a wife claim her husband's body is what's crazy," Donovan said. "Let's not argue about this. She says she wants to go, so I'll take her. Tell her it'll be the day after tomorrow and she's not going unless she eats and finds something reasonable to wear. That ought to bring her around."

* * *

That evening Carina ate a little atole. She spent an absurdly long time staring at it before scooping it up with all the joy with which she would've eaten arsenic. At Amalia’s insistence, she also choked down a vitamin and some chamomile tea laced with St. John's Wort and a bit of tranquilizer from their veterinary supplies.

After dinner Amalia boiled some coffee and pecan shells, and when the mixture had cooled, she put a dark blue dress into the mixture to soak. It was an old dress of Carina's that had somehow been overlooked in the afternoon's massive clothes-burning. With any luck, she could dye it dark enough to pass for black until Donovan could get her something new in Jonasville.

No one had any enthusiasm for lessons that evening, so they settled in the living room to work instead. Tasha snuggled close while Carina made a few desultory stitches on a sweater she had been knitting for Will.

Amalia tried to read from Mark Twain, but found she couldn't. The words just didn't seem right. She went to her room and brought out her Bible instead. "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help," she began. She glanced at Carina. "My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth."

Carina took a few stitches at her knitting, every line in her body resisting comfort. She tried to purl, dropped a stitch, frowned and tried to pick it up, but without any real interest in the task.

"The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night," Amalia continued. "The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul."

Carina raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but pretended to focus on her hands, her needles, on anything that would keep her from having to meet curious or sympathetic eyes.

"The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore."

"Let’s hope so," Donovan said from the easy chair, where he was stringing peppers.

Amalia read for awhile, skipping around to the parts she thought most appropriate. Finally the small print blurred and she set the book on the table. Tasha had dozed off, Will was nodding over a half-finished ristra of peppers, and Carina sat staring at nothing. Although she knew it was partly the effect of the tranquilizer, Amalia found this emptiness troubling. She and Donovan stood at the same time. Amalia picked up Tasha and motioned for Will to follow while Donovan helped Carina to her feet.

Amalia had barely gotten the children into their room and was helping them locate their nightclothes when voices in the hallway made her pause. "You can't not go to bed," Donovan said. "Look at you. You can barely stand up."

Carina mumbled something. Amalia left the children and went into the hall. "I'm not going in there," Carina said.

"She did the same thing this afternoon," Amalia told Donovan. "Put her in her bed anyway. She'll be asleep in another couple minutes and it won't matter where she is."

Carina began crying and leaned into Donovan for support. He put his arms around her. "Can't we put her in the children's room for tonight?"

"I don't think we should indulge her."

"It's just for one night." He cupped Carina's chin and tried to make her look him in the eye. "Just tonight, okay? You have to learn to be brave again."

Carina nodded and Amalia, disgusted, herded the children into Carina's room where they bounced on the beds. After she got them settled, Amalia went into the other room, where she found Carina in Tasha's bed with Donovan tucking the covers around her. The black dress lay across a wooden chair and Amalia fought a surge of suspicion. "I would've helped her undress."

"It's okay," Donovan said, smoothing Carina's ruined hair. "She was almost asleep. She couldn't have waited any longer."

Amalia looked for a moment at the still face against the pillow. "Are you going to sleep in here with me tonight?"

"I don't think so." Donovan kissed her on the forehead as if she were a child. "I'll be in our room if you need anything, though."

Next>>
<<Previous