Chapter Nineteen
A small window sat just above the wash basin in the kitchen. It let Alexandra keep an eye on the area behind the house, with the garden and chickens and goats, while she washed the dishes.
It was mid-afternoon, the lunch things not long cleared away, and Alexandra was busy scouring a pot that had managed to acquire quite a coating of stove soot on the bottom.
At least, that’s what she told anyone who happened by.
The fact that it was taking so long had absolutely, positively nothing to do with Aidan being out back, chopping wood.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up nearly to his elbows, and his collar was open in deference to the heat.
The sun was descending, but its warmth still lingered.
The thin cotton clung to his shoulders and chest as he worked.
He paused his chopping for a moment, holding the axe with both hands and using it to stretch his back.
Alexandra’s eyes widened. Her mouth was dry in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the kitchen. She swallowed hard, her tongue thick and stupid.
“That pot must be in quite a state,” Lisa said from behind Alexandra.
She hadn’t heard her aunt come into the kitchen. Quickly, she looked down and began to scrub with renewed vigor. Her cheeks grew hot, and she prayed that Lisa would put it down to the stove.
Lisa came to look over Alexandra’s shoulder, tutting at the pot. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the coppers were allowed to get into such a state,” she commented. “Given the state of the rest of the house, that is. At least there’s plenty of sand to be had.”
Alexandra hummed a vague agreement, only half-listening. She dipped her cloth into the bowl of sifted sand and scrubbed at the pot again.
Lisa moved to stand next to her and gazed out the window. Alexandra kept her head down, as if the pot were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Hmm,” Lisa said. “You know, I never appreciated how nice the scenery in the desert could be.” She paused for a moment, during which Alexandra’s ears burned, and she wished fervently for a hole to open in the ground and swallow her. “You might ask Aidan to show you more.”
The pot clattered against the side of the basin as Alexandra’s fingers fumbled and she dropped it. She looked up at her aunt. “I beg your pardon?” she croaked.
Lisa arched a brow at Alexandra. “You’ve seen nothing outside of the ranch,” she said. “I’m sure there are some stunning vistas,” she added, nodding to where the landscape rose up from the flat dirt. “I heard there might be wild roses growing up there.”
“Oh,” Alexandra said, taking the pot up again. “That would be nice. We could make rose syrup, and rosehip jelly in the fall.”
“Just so,” Lisa said. She coughed once, frowning. She took a deep, shaky breath, and coughed again, the force of it making her grab the back of a chair. “Blast this elevation,” she managed.
Alexandra stepped closer to her, putting a steadying hand on her aunt’s back. She bit her lip as she watched Lisa try to pull in a deep breath.
“You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?” Alexandra inquired, peering closely at Lisa’s face. She was paler than usual, and there was something drawn about her that Alexandra had not seen before.
“Pray to Heaven I’m not,” Lisa said grimly. She and Alexandra shared a look of understanding—they both knew what a cold did to her lungs. “I’m fine,” Lisa insisted, waving Alexandra off.
Reluctantly, Alexandra resumed her scrubbing. Hints of copper finally showed through the black sludge caked on the outside. Taking a chance, she glanced out the window again. Aidan had stopped chopping and was mopping his brow with a kerchief.
Alexandra tilted her head. He’s not totally unlike this pot, she mused.
He was still nothing like what she’d been hoping for.
There was more of Mr. Rochester about him than she had anticipated, and no picture of charming civility.
What she couldn’t square was how people on the ranch and in town spoke of him.
They all seemed convinced he was a kind man, gentle and congenial. It was enough to make her head hurt.
She turned to consult with Lisa (or, more likely, to simply vent her frustrations again), but found that her aunt had retreated. Alexandra frowned. She hoped that Lisa had gone upstairs for a lie-in; she’d been looking even more tired and pale than usual.
As she was finishing the scrubbing, there was a knock on the screen door at the front of the house.
Alexandra, wiping her hands on her apron, went to see who it was, and found Antony on the other side.
He was all good humor every time she saw him, though a large mustache hid the great majority of his smile.
“Why, it’s Mr. Byrne,” Alexandra said, unable to keep herself from returning his open grin.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Rawlins,” he said politely, taking his hat off. “I’ve come on rather serious business.”
“Have you indeed?” Alexandra inquired, curiosity piqued.
“Yes indeed,” Antony said. “It’s come to my attention that a very necessary part of the children’s education is being neglected.”
Alexandra pulled back slightly at that. She was not making as much progress with them as she’d hoped.
“Oh?” she said guardedly. “And what is that?”
With a flourish, Antony produced a bag of marbles from behind his back that clicked together as he did so. Alexandra stared for a moment, and then huffed out a laugh that was partially a sigh of relief.
“Yes, clearly a very important bit of learning, that,” she said.
Antony made a show of being insulted. “Madam, I’ll have you know that the entire schoolyard economy is based on winning and losing at marbles. Friendships are won and lost—honor is on the line!”
Alexandra laughed. “Well, I confess I’m not versed in them myself,” she admitted.
“Don’t worry,” Antony said. “We’ll have three experts to bring you up to speed in no time.”
“The children will be in shortly,” Alexandra said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter the house. “They’re just finishing up their chores.”
“Good, good,” he said, looking about the house, craning his neck a bit. “Is your aunt about? That is, will she be joining us?”
“I’m afraid not,” Alexandra replied, latching the screen door shut again. “She’s retired upstairs to rest.”
“Oh.” Antony’s face fell for a moment, but he quickly regained his cheerful air. “I can make do with the children.”
“It’s really very kind of you to make time for this,” Alexandra said, drifting toward the kitchen. Antony followed her, and she offered him a cup of cool water from the barrel. “I’ve been looking forward to a little walk on my own.”
Antony took a sip, then regarded Alexandra. “I imagine you don’t get much time to yourself these days,” he said.
Alexandra bit her lip, suddenly unsure. “Are you certain about this? Will you be all right with the children?”
Antony waved her off. “You go on. I’ve wrangled them all before.”
“I won’t be gone long,” Alexandra said, untying her apron and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. She picked up one of the small garden baskets and slung it on her arm on the off-chance that she found anything worth gathering.
Alexandra waved farewell to him. She cared for the children deeply, far more than she had expected to, but she hadn’t realized how much she had missed her solitude. The sun was descending, the air cooling ever so slightly; Alexandra couldn’t help but walk with a light, bouncing step.
She rounded the long side of the barn, hiked her skirt up in one hand, and began to trek upwards. She didn’t mind the difficulty; she was just glad to see grass again, which grew more plentiful on the hills.
Within a few moments, she had crested the top.
Breathing slightly heavily, she turned back to the ranch, her hands planted on her hips, and took in the view.
She was at about the level of the barn’s roof.
From here, she could see a couple of the horses that remained at the ranch.
The others were up in the hills somewhere, grazing on the free grass of the range.
She was no expert, but she understood the Two Dog to be of a decent size and reputation.
She frowned; for all of Aidan’s pride about the ranch, some fences needed mending.
The barn, too, showed itself poorly, with a board missing here and there, and the red paint faded.
The number of horses had decreased dramatically since she’d arrived, too.
Maybe it’s seasonal, like farming, she thought. Could be that it’s just a time of low numbers.
Far beyond the ranch, to the south and west, she could just see the tip of the spoil heap from the mine rising up. If she squinted, the machinery poked up like a strange beast of gears and steam. She’d never realized just how close they were to the mine before.
Alexandra took a deep breath, savoring the smell of grass, and turned toward the hills that continued to rise and roll behind her. The moment she turned, however, she found she wasn’t the only one enjoying the view: Aidan stood behind her, watching her with a curious look.
She had told herself she came up for the quiet. She was aware, in the half-second before she spoke, that she was not sorry to see him.
“Oh,” she said, blinking rapidly. “You’re here.”
“I am,” Aidan confirmed, his deep voice carrying across the span between them.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Alexandra said. “I’ll go.” Her disappointment showed.
“No,” Aidan said quickly, his voice loud in the quiet away from the ranch. “That is… you could stay. I mean, you must’ve had some purpose in coming up here.”
“Mostly to get away for a moment,” Alexandra admitted.
Aidan bobbled his head around in a noncommittal nod. The silence stretched between them, filled only with the buzz of insects and birds in the waning daylight. He didn’t move to leave, which was unexpected.
Gathering up her courage, she forced a pleasant expression onto her face. “I’ve heard that wild roses grow up in these hills—might you know where they are?”