Part Two, Chapter Thirteen

Alvi showed up at eight o'clock, fresh and dapper in a black double-breasted suit. He wore a black felt fedora with a black and gray speckled feather in the band, and the collar of his matte silk shirt was closed with the latest fashion— a gold button imprinted with the picture of an animal, in this case a jaguar. Donovan felt unstylish by comparison in the handed-down suit he had worn to Mass the previous Christmas. He wished it had occurred to him to do a little shopping of his own while Carina was trying on dresses, but there was nothing he could do about it now. At least he'd gotten a good shave from one of the street vendors, and had the boy trim his hair while he was at it. Donovan was exhausted and he knew it must show around his eyes, but at least he didn't look unkempt.

Carina was still getting ready, so he motioned Alvi to a seat.

"Thank you. You look like you hardly slept last night."

By now Donovan had figured out some of the nuances of Alvi's speech and behavior. This was his way of saying he knew. "I didn't."

If Alvi was disappointed that they wouldn’t be debating this point, he gave no sign. "I don't sleep so well myself. Sometimes it gets so bad I have to go for a walk to clear my head."

"Do you?" Damn him.

"I especially like that part of the morning just before the sun comes up, when the people who have been up all night are coming home and the ones who turned in early like good children are starting their day. It's very interesting, like watching the changing of the guard."

"I bet it is."

Alvi fell silent for a moment, then looked Donovan in the eye. "I ran into an old acquaintance this morning. He says he was clobbered in a poker game last night; a game where he had reason to believe someone was cheating. Too bad. He has a sick child at home."

"Yes, too bad. One would think a man with those kinds of responsibilities would be more careful."

"You would think, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Donovan said. "I would."

Alvi stretched out his hands and examined his nails. For all his ready cash and fancy suit, his hands remained those of a working man, calloused and patched with deep-set grime. "It was a very odd evening at the establishment my friend went to. It seems a few wallets went missing."

Donovan shrugged. "It happens."

The men locked gazes, each waiting to see if the other would come right out with it. Finally Alvi said, "If I ever hear of you cheating or stealing from my friends again—"

"How am I to know who are your friends? Will they be wearing special signs?"

"They are all my friends in this town."

"All of them?"

"All of them." Alvi took a breath. "You know, those papers I got for you..."

Donovan scowled. "How much do you want?"

Alvi sat up, genuinely surprised. "This isn't bribery. I don't want any of your stolen goods." Reading the skepticism on the younger man's face he went on. "I only want for you to take your game elsewhere. What you do in Macrina or some other town is your business, but we have our ways here and don't need any of yours." Before Donovan could sputter a reply he added, "Did you ever think of her?" He waved in the direction of the closed bedroom door. "If you'd been caught, what was she supposed to do? I can't take her home. I’m committed to a circuit going the other way. I’ve stayed too long in town as it is. My movements only look free. I’m caught up in this game as much as anyone."

“Quit, like I did.”

“And be a fugitive?” He chuckled. "Thank you, no. What I do has its perks. But for every man I’ve got goods on, there’s someone else with goods on me. If you’d been caught last night, it’s Carina who would’ve suffered. She would've been stranded here. Most likely, she would've tried to make it home on her own and anything could've happened without someone to protect her."

Donovan felt his face grow hot. He hadn't thought about the danger to Carina.

"You were selfish."

"No. We were nearly out of money and there are things we need before we go home."

"I would've bought them for you. What do you want?"

"A gift for Amalia, and a few things for the children because they're growing so fast. And some proper dye so if Carina keeps insisting on wearing black, she can make some of her own things from the wool we trade for in the valley." He frowned. "And I don't want you to pay for it. I can do it myself."

"Feeling the weight of being head of the household, are you?"

Donovan sat back. "That's not how I would've put it. But now that there’s no one coming home, they have no one but me to look out for them."

"They can look out for themselves."

"Women shouldn't have to."

The peddler smiled. "Maybe you haven’t noticed, but Amalia and Carina are the last of an obsolete breed; women raised to neither need nor want a male protector. Oh, they like being fussed over, as who doesn't? It’s fun for them to have a man like you around for decoration, but they don’t need you."

Donovan bristled at the suggestion he was merely decorative. "There’s a lot of work to be done on that farm; the kind of work that only a man should be doing. You've seen the condition Carina is in. You can't say she doesn't need someone."

"Someone, yes. A friend, absolutely, but a man, specifically? No. If you hadn't been there, Amalia would've brought her to town and it would've worked out fine."

Although he knew Alvi was right, Donovan didn't want to hear it. "This is an interesting conversation, but the reality is that I was there and I'm looking out for her. For both of them. The children too, damn it. If that means I have to steal in order to give them what they need, that's what I'll do."

Alvi stood and stretched his arms overhead. "Life is tough when you've got to be the alpha male."

Donovan wasn't sure what that meant, but had a vague feeling he should be insulted.

"You know," Alvi went on, "There's a reason why in countries where a man is allowed more than one wife, he often doesn't bother. It's because the headache and responsibility—"

The door to the bedroom opened. Carina looked from one man to the other in bewilderment as the conversation suddenly stopped. "I’m sorry I interrupted your private chat."

Alvi walked over to her. "Carina, angel, you are the prettiest of war widows and I must give you a kiss." He pressed his lips against hers just a little too long to be platonic, then stepped back to get a better look at her. "The dress is lovely, my dear. Turn around, let me see. Margaret did a wonderful job. I will send her flowers as a token of our appreciation." He took her arm, preempting any attempt by Donovan to get close. "Do you have everything you need?"

"I think so." Carina scanned his face in bewilderment.

"Good." He steered her toward the door, not bothering to see if Donovan was following. "Let's get this travesty over with."

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