Part Two, Chapter Twenty

That evening as they drew near the Sanchez farm, Carina balked. "I'm not up for explaining," she said. "They'll think I'm needy, and I can't stand for even one more person feeling sorry for me right now." So they made camp in a recently cut hay field, using the wagon and their tarps to fashion a crude tent.

At dawn they hitched the jennets and prepared to tackle the pass. They wound their way upward in the cool of early morning, the fertile valley receding behind them as they climbed. It was hard work and as the sun rose higher Goneril and Regan sweated under the strain. Donovan and Carina shed their jackets as the mountain air warmed to valley-like temperatures. Finally they came to the pass. There were a few small rocks scattered over the road, but nothing they couldn't drive over.

"We may make camp early," Donovan remarked.

"I hope so," Carina said, looking at the sky in concern. "It's too warm today. That front is close by."

"What are you talking about?" The sky was blazingly clear in all directions.

Carina started to say something about cold fronts and warm air, but Donovan was no longer listening.

"Dammit."

Carina saw it too. "Maybe it's not as bad as it looks.”

"I don't think we're going to get off that easy." Donovan allowed the jennets to walk up to the boulder, where they stopped of their own accord. He set the brake and climbed down for a closer look. He kicked it, then went back to the wagon for the shovel and tried to leverage the boulder out of the way, but it didn't budge. He stepped back to consider. It didn't block the entire path. Animals and humans could easily pass to either side. But the wagon...

"At least it's not tall," Carina pointed out. "It's not as high as the axle is wide. Maybe we could build a ramp. You know, run one set of wheels up over it, while the other set remains on the road."

Donovan looked at the wagon, then at the rock, making quick mental notes. "We'd have to take everything out. But yeah, we might make it work. We could use the sides of the wagon to make a ramp."

"How long do you think it would take?"

"Maybe a couple hours, if all goes well."

Carina glanced toward the spotless horizon. "I think we need to try it. If we don't get through the pass ahead of the storm it'll only be that much harder afterward. And a storm is coming. I can feel it."

They unhitched the jennies, led them to the other side of the rock and tethered them to a scrawny sapling. Then they began moving boxes, bags, baskets and bedding to the other side where they staged it all neatly against the side of the mountain. Finally all that was left was the coffin.

Donovan climbed into the wagon and lifted one end, then the other. Then he scrambled out. "The other side is lighter," he said. "All you have to do is get in and push it toward me until most of it is out, then climb down and grab your end."

The coffin was heavier than Donovan was prepared for. He watched Carina stagger under the weight of the other end and wondered how big Miles had been. It was with a relief as much mental as physical that he finally set the coffin on the ground some distance from the sheer drop and the great rock in the road. He noticed Carina was rubbing her hands where the metal handles had bruised her skin. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She looked at the coffin for a moment, then returned to the problem of the wagon. "We'll remove the sides, and then use some of these smaller rocks to support the ramp in place."

Soon they were both at work releasing the boards that formed the high wooden sides of the wagon. While Donovan set them in place and tried to construct a way to keep them steady on top of the rock, Carina went searching for smaller stones to hold them stable on the ground. It took several trips, but at last their ramp was as secure as they could hope for under the circumstances. They pushed the wagon forward. "Wait a minute," Donovan said. He took a closer look at their setup. "I'm worried about the wheel on the ground slipping. We'll dig a groove to keep the wheel in place and make sure the wagon goes where we want it to and doesn't slip off the ledge."

Carina glanced at the sky again and frowned at the gray smudge on the horizon. She grabbed a trowel while Donovan got the larger shovel and together they started chopping a narrow trench in the dirt road. They were covered in dust by the time they were through, but when they finally stepped back to assess their work, they were satisfied. "I guess it's time," Carina said. She took a long rope, tied one end to the shaft and the other to the horns of Goneril's harness collar.

"Come on, baby." She gave a tug and Goneril began moving forward. Behind them, Donovan pushed the wagon until the one wheel caught in the groove and the other began going up over the ramp.

With an ease that was deceptive, the wagon went up and over the boulder, tilting crazily to one side before sliding smoothly down the other side of the ramp. Some rocks they had placed as a defensive barricade kept it from continuing down the path. The cart stopped with a jerk and an echoing rattle of loose boards.

Carina left Goneril nibbling some weeds. "We're pretty smart, aren't we?"

"We are." He threw his arms around her.

Carina laughed, but something she saw over his shoulder made her catch her breath.

"What?" He let her go and spun around. In the distance was an unmistakable dark line against the horizon. "How long do you think we have?"

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