Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Six

Donovan helped Will finish unloading the wagon and they took the animals to the barn. Amalia and Tasha disappeared into the kitchen to prepare dinner, and Carina finally had a few moments to herself. Now that she was home, she was exhausted to the core. Still, she had to perform the courtesies, get through this first evening with the family when they would be full of questions and would have so much they wanted to tell her in return.

A shower revived her. It felt good to wash off the dust of the road. Then she put on one of her new dresses, looked in the mirror and sighed. If she wanted Donovan to keep his distance, looking like this was the way to do it. She took out her compact and made up her face, just a little, so she wouldn’t look so completely washed out and sickly, then went into the kitchen.

Amalia was putting a dish of stuffed peppers into the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron, and gave Carina a jubilant hug. “I’ve missed you. How was it?”

Carina wasn’t sure how to answer and shook her head.

“You’re too thin, but your new dress is lovely. I saw all those packages. You did a lot of shopping while you were away.”

“Donovan did all the shopping after I bought my clothes the first day.”

“Oh. No wonder you came back with so much stuff.” Amalia frowned. “I didn’t think the money he took with him would go as far as all that. He must have supplemented it a little.”

“A little,” Carina said, thinking of the morning when he laid out all those coins and bills on the bed. “He couldn’t help it. Nothing there is cheap. He wanted to buy you and the kids some nice things.”

“That wasn’t necessary. Not if it meant stealing.” Amalia turned to Tasha, who was standing on a stool at the kitchen counter, stirring something in a bowl. “How’s that coming along?”

“Fine.”

“We’re using the last of Alvi’s rice tonight,” Amalia said. “Now sit down, relax, and let me finish getting dinner ready. Without you here, I’ve had less time to sketch, so I’ve been using the kitchen as a creative outlet.” She pressed Carina into a chair and poured her a glass of mulberry wine. Then she returned to getting dinner ready, offering news about the animals, crops, and of course, building and fence repair. “I was thinking we should re-plaster the house this winter. It's been looking a little neglected.”

“Yes, of course.” Carina looked around the bright kitchen. There was something comforting about returning to a familiar place. It would be a pleasure to cook on a proper stove again, with all the ingredients right there in the cabinets where they belonged. Unbidden, her mind drifted back to the meals she had prepared on the road in makeshift conditions.

“I’ve been asking around who in the valley has a jigsaw. I finally found one we can borrow.”

Funny how nothing about the hard floors, smoky fires and ever-present dust seemed so awful now. It was like an adventure. It would be nice to sleep in her own bed tonight, though. She’d go right now if she got any encouragement.

“And I thought we’d start with your room first.”

She hadn’t been listening. “That sounds nice."

Amalia gave a knowing smile. “You don’t have a clue what I’ve been talking about. It’s okay. I’ve only been talking so you wouldn’t feel like you had to say anything. It didn’t seem nice to ask a lot of questions when you've hardly got in the door. And then there’s, well, other things we need to discuss. Tomorrow, maybe, after you’ve had a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

Other things. Of course. In her capable way, Amalia had probably made all the arrangements for the funeral and was just waiting for her to come home so they could fix a date. The grave had probably been dug and neighbors told they would hear something soon. There wasn’t a rancher or small farmer in the valley whose animals she hadn’t tended. They would all be there, and every one of them would be full of sympathetic words. They would pity her with her shorn hair and black dress. Amalia was right. She didn't want to think about that now.

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