Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Four

Carina and Donovan reached the abandoned ranger's cabin at dusk. It was too late to do any fishing, so they ate out of their stores. The meals were growing dull without fresh eggs, game or vegetables, but there was no point in complaining. The next morning they headed out at dawn and soon found themselves among the mesas. Carina grew thoughtful as the day wore on, and even the animals seemed to know they were barely a day from home.

When they stopped for lunch, Carina made love to Donovan in a desperate way, as if she could somehow keep time from slipping away, but it didn't lighten her mood. If anything, she became quieter as mid-day sloped into afternoon. By the time they reached the rancho, she was deep inside her thoughts and had to be brought back to reality.

"Where do you want to put the animals?" Donovan asked. "We can't keep them indoors. We're out of hay. They need to graze."

"Oh." Carina scanned the grounds without seeing.

"Never mind. I'll figure it out."

By the time he got the animals taken care of, the sun was going down. He found Carina on the back patio sipping scotch and watching the fiery reds and golds fade out over the mesas. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned and smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile, one that masked words he wasn't sure he wanted to hear. He sat next to her and accepted a glass of scotch— a real glass, not a cup.

"Where'd you find these?"

"In there." She waved a hand in the direction of the house, which explained nothing. "They seem to be real crystal."

"Maybe we should take them with us."

"If you like."

They watched the darkening sky in silence for awhile. A cool wind picked up and Carina shivered.

"Want me to get your cloak?"

"It doesn't matter." She took a deep breath. "About tomorrow..."

"What about it?"

"I want things to be as they were before. Between me and you. And between you and my sister, if that's possible. What's between us can't continue."

Donovan knew what she said was the proper thing, but fought a sudden wave of anger that she should be the one to say it. "Why not? We'll just tell her the truth."

"Yes. I'll tell her that right after becoming a widow, I've stolen her man. That'll go over well."

"She'll get over it. She loves you. You're her sister."

"Some sister I am." Carina reached for the bottle, but then thought better of it and set her empty glass aside. "Especially after I was the one who encouraged her with you. No, after tonight, it's over."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what your plans are, but the whole rest of my life is on that farm. This has to be it. Don't you understand?"

"No." He got to his feet. "Has there been nothing real about these past few days?"

Carina cast a guilty look at her hands. "My feelings for you are real."

"But you never intended it should last."

"I didn't intend anything. I didn't think at all. Did you?"

Donovan stopped pacing, ashamed of himself. "No."

"So I guess that settles it."

"It doesn't settle anything."

"It does for me."

He gazed at the stubborn set of her shoulders and the maddening way she lifted her chin, and he knew with a sick feeling in his stomach that she wasn't going to change her mind. What was it Alvi had said about obsolete women who didn't think they needed a man? A quiet voice inside him whispered that Carina was giving him a great gift, sacrificing her feelings to give him some measure of freedom, but he needed to prove her wrong. "Come to bed." He reached for her hand.

"It'll be no different in the morning."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do. I've made up my mind."

"I'll make you wish you hadn't."

* * *

Carina stood on the patio, cooking the last of their food. It had been insanity to delay so long in notoriously toxic Catalunia, to the point where their food stores were this low. If the wagon broke down or a jennet went lame today, they would have to hunt or forage. Carina straightened her back and looked out across the mesas. No, they wouldn't be so lucky. They would be home tonight. She stirred the contents of the skillet, fighting back tears. It was good food, but the smell made her gag. She held her breath and took the food off the grill, then walked toward the empty swimming pool where the air was clearer. Here it smelled only of wind, dust and piñon. She breathed deeply, waiting for the knots in her stomach to unravel.

Feeling a little better, she went back and divided the food onto two plates. Her stomach had settled, and a good thing, since she had no choice but to eat it. The brownies were gone, the juice Amalia had packed at the outset of their trip had gone rancid, and she needed something to sustain her. Courage alone wasn't going to do it.

Donovan walked onto the patio looking tired and pale underneath the glow of his brown skin. Carina's breath caught and for a moment she thought she'd never seen him look so handsome, all in black with that vaguely accusing look in his eyes. She couldn't bear it and turned away. "Breakfast is ready."

"So is the wagon." He sat down but only picked at his food.

"Better eat it. Other than a few dried apples, it's all we've got until we get home."

"Are you going to eat, too?"

"Yes." Instead of sitting down, she took an empty bowl, filled it with earth from the defunct garden and shook it out over the coals. They wouldn't have time to let the fire die of its own accord.

"You can still change your mind."

"I know that."

Donovan's eyebrows flickered and he looked away. "Just making sure." He fell to eating, as if it were a chore that couldn't be put off.

* * *

They spent the morning traveling the broad flat expanse of the mesa, finding themselves at noon on the edge of the trail leading to their valley. Donovan halted the team, set the brake and put a hand on Carina's wrist. "Wouldn't you like to—?"

She pulled her hand away. "No."

Donovan straightened the wagon, clucked at the team and they started down the switchbacks. They were nearly at the bottom, just one curve of the road between them and a full straight view toward home, when Carina, acting on a last wild impulse, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, as if trying to imprint some final memory of him upon her mind. Then just as suddenly, she pulled away and looked into the distance, jerking her chin up in the familiar way that Donovan knew was her way of staving off tears. "Is that it?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You'll regret it."

"I know."

"Okay, then." He slapped the reins against the jennets' backs and they turned the last corner toward home.

Next>>
<<Previous