Part Two, Chapter Seventeen

Donovan stood outside the motel in the pre-dawn darkness, directing the two boys who were loading their things into the wagon. It wasn't hard work, but leaving space for the coffin was a tricky matter. The load would have to be re-packed at base no matter what they did. It was either that or take the wagon empty and come back for their things afterward. At least this way saved time.

Carina came out of the motel, her last bag slung over her shoulder. She was wearing new black pants and boots, which made her look more capable and less delicate than she had seemed in her fluttering skirts. The clothes must have imparted some confidence, because she held her head up and moved with a measure of her old style, not particularly graceful, but direct and sure like one of her goats. She approached the side of the wagon and looked in, then she handed one of the boys her bag.

"Is that everything?" Donovan asked.

"Yes. I even looked under the bed, just in case. But if you have time, you might want to take a look, just to be sure. I’m still not in my right mind, you know."

"Actually, I was thinking you look like you're feeling better today."

Her gaze wandered to the keepsake box that the boys were loading into the wagon. "I slept a little better last night. Do you think it's time to get Alvi?"

"Yes, we're almost finished."

Carina walked to the barren field that served as a campground. Alvi's wagon was in its same spot, but the donkeys Caudillo and Patrón were in their traces, worrying their bits and tossing their heads. Although she didn't feel the same intensity of affection that she usually had when she saw an animal, Carina forced herself to rub their ears and noses. Now that the initial knife edge of grief was receding, she could remember some of Amalia's words and appreciate their wisdom. If she went through the motions long enough, the feelings would eventually come back, too. She patted her old friends and although she lacked the heart to coo and talk nonsense to them, she found herself smiling into their wise brown eyes. "I bet you know all his secrets."

She went around to the door and knocked. It opened at once, as if Alvi had known she was there and was waiting. He was dressed in the colorful gypsy outfit that Carina now recognized for a disguise. Nonetheless, it was a style that suited him. In the warm glow of an oil lamp he looked dashing and full of happy energy. "Good morning, my lovely," he said, reaching down a hand and guiding her over the threshold. "Come in and sit down. I was just finishing packing."

Carina looked around doubtfully. There were no wares or personal effects to be seen, so she couldn't imagine what kind of packing there was to be done. But as she sat on the edge of a wicker chest, he moved about tightening the many ties and straps that kept items hanging on his walls or lying flat on top of shelves and chests as the wagon bounced along the country roads. "I don't think I've ever seen what all you do back here," she remarked.

"That's because it's so dull, darling. I would never bore you with such matters if it could be helped."

Carina fell silent, looking at her hands. "About yesterday..."

Alvi stopped what he was doing. "Miss Carina, let us both forget what I said yesterday. It was too soon. I was out of line and I apologize."

"No," Carina said, shaking her head. "I mean, yes, it was too soon. But I was flattered. You're so sweet."

"Sweet." Alvi spat the word and returned to his work. "I live to be 'sweet.'"

"I'm sorry. That was the wrong word."

"Yes, it was."

"Well, what I meant was—"

Alvi looked at her again. "I know what you meant. You were quite clear. I was not listening, and that was wrong of me."

"This isn't about right or wrong."

"Isn't it? Good. That puts my mind at ease." He saw his jacket hanging from a peg and put it on. "Shall we go? I don't want to get a late start on my journey, and I'm sure you don't, either."

Carina got to her feet. "Yes, I suppose it's time. But Alvi, I don't want us to part like this. I don't like how it's suddenly all different."

The man's features softened. "Nothing is different between us. You can reject me a hundred times and I will still be your friend." He put a hand against her cheek and she closed her eyes and leaned into it with the instinctual move of a cat. He was about to speak when he saw the necklace.

Carina sensed his sudden shift in mood and opened her eyes. "What is it?"

"That's a very lovely necklace you're wearing." Alvi said quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen it before. Is it new?"

She reached a hand toward her collar. "Yes." Then she dropped her eyes. "Donovan gave it to me."

All Alvi said was, "How nice of him," but Carina sensed the sudden change that went far beyond anything that had been said before. Her racing mind thought of all the explanations she could bring to bear on the matter. How dare he think there was anything more to it than just another one of Donovan's youthful, impulsive gestures? But she sensed too, that anything she said would only make things worse. She pulled her collar up close around her neck and turned toward the door. "We should go. Caudillo and Patrón were looking impatient."

Alvi latched the door, followed her down the steps, then folded the stairs out of the way and locked them for travel. "They should know better than to be impatient," Alvi said to no one in particular. "I've told them again and again. Too much hurry is never a good thing. It takes patience to get what you want."

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