Chapter Eight
Malika
Mavis pulled a handwoven willow basket lined with white cotton cloth from a kitchen cupboard. She handed Malika the basket.
“We eat whatever’s in season,” Mavis said. “Serviceberries are ripening right now, and they make excellent pies. You’ll have to pick them first, though. There’s a patch in a clearing not far from the creek.”
Malika began to have doubts as to the success of this pie-making venture. She hadn’t anticipated so many steps. She stared into the empty basket, which seemed destined to remain in that state.
“How will I recognize these serviceberries?”
“Jayce knows what they are and where you can find them.”
Malika’s faith in pie-making returned. This was excellent news.
She hadn’t seen him since the night before last, at the lodge, and was beginning to worry that their kiss hadn’t been pleasurable for him—although she couldn’t imagine how that could be.
She’d found it magnificent. The intriguing bulge she’d felt against her thigh, and the way he’d watched her from the shadows the night prior, indicated a clear show of interest.
Perhaps she was rushing him, and he preferred to take charge. One of her sisters’ husbands was like that. She claimed he preferred to take the lead in the bedroom, and that he enjoyed it most when she pretended to protest. He’d even given her a word to say if she felt unsafe.
The possibility was worth exploring. They would go berry picking together. Alone. Near a creek, which she believed was a small river. What an excellent place for flirtation and ruin.
Except when Jayce walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t alone. The cute, curly-haired, blond-headed Tilly, and the adorable, pony-tailed, blond-headed Linda, were with him. Malika reproached him with her eyes. He lobbed innocence at her in return.
Tilly and Linda also both carried baskets. Tilly’s basket was covered by red checkered cloth.
Linda vibrated with joy. “My daddy packed us a picnic.”
Her joy was infectious. A picnic. Malika had been on many such excursions when she was a child.
Her two oldest sisters and the three mothers would round up the children, load everyone into a caravan of vehicles, and they would drive for several hours to the coast, where servants had food and games waiting for them.
She’d played in the waves and there were caves to explore.
Today’s picnic involved labor—but berry picking led to pie-making and making pies led to Jayce.
She stepped onto Mavis’s small porch, where she’d witnessed a spectacular sunset last night.
This morning, the mountains sparkled with dew.
Birds blustered noisily above as they walked a small path cut through the trees.
Her lungs filled with fresh, tangy air when she breathed in.
Her empty basket swung happily from her arm.
To think she’d have an entire summer to enjoy this.
“How goes the war of the ferrets?” Tilly asked Jayce.
They walked ahead of Malika and Linda. He carried a rifle instead of a basket, and he adjusted the strap, so the barrel was aimed at the sky.
“My mother is winning,” he said shortly.
Tilly laughed.
It was impossible for Malika not to like Tilly, despite the easy friendship she and Jayce seemed to have—a friendship that did not involve flirting, Malika was happy to see, although she found it hard to believe.
How could any woman not flirt with Jayce, despite his occasional bouts of ill-humor? The man was so beautiful.
Linda trudged along next to Malika.
“Are you really going to marry an old man who’s already married?” Linda asked.
Jayce’s back stiffened. One foot broke stride with the other. Tilly paused and half turned, as if ready to intervene in case Malika required help with an answer.
Which she did not. Malika was familiar with bold children. She used to be one, herself.
“He’ll have to catch up with me first,” she said. “My brother killed the man I loved and now we’re both on the run.”
Linda’s small face reflected seven-year-old wisdom. “Your brother should have killed the old man.”
“That’s what I told him,” Malika said.
“What about the old man’s wife? Why doesn’t your brother just get rid of her too?
” Tilly asked, entering into the spirit of things.
“What?” she demanded of Jayce, whose disapproval was thick enough to scorch earth.
“The old man must have money if he can afford a second wife. Get rid of the first wife, and since he’s old, he likely doesn’t have a whole lot of years left.
Natural causes could take care of him.” She winked at Malika, making Malika like her even more.
“Then Malika’s left with his money and enough years ahead of her to enjoy it. ”
“Unless she’s caught and hangs for her crimes,” Jayce said darkly.
“We hanged Beau last year,” Linda informed Malika. “There was a church picnic and everything. It was fun.”
It did sound like fun.
“But Belle says we aren’t allowed to hang anyone, anymore,” Linda added sadly. She perked up. “That means you can’t be hanged.”
“There you have it,” Tilly said, as if the matter were settled. “Your brother’s not going to hang, either. A few more murders won’t make any difference to him, so marry the old man and let nature take its course. And remember—accidents happen, and nature can be cruel.”
Linda nodded. “Bears will eat you.”
Nature could indeed be very cruel.
But, while there were days when Malika could happily watch Adeel hang, and overall, she was indifferent to Eli Chamas’s fate, it was the fate of Eli’s first wife that concerned her.
Malika had no desire to share a marriage with her, because she would always be the first wife, but neither did she wish her harm.
She might be a perfectly lovely woman. She might be someone like Malika’s favorite sister, Aisha, or Jayce’s mother, Vanessa.
“The kinder option might be to not marry at all,” Malika said. “My brother is bound by honor to protect and provide for me. If he doesn’t return for me, then I will simply find a way to provide for myself.”
“That’s the spirit,” Tilly said.
“Didn’t you dishonor your brother already?” Jayce asked Malika, making a valiant attempt to stick to his role. “Isn’t that why you’re here? Because you got yourself ruined?”
Linda spoke up. “She doesn’t look ruined. She looks pretty. But not as pretty as Belle,” she added, for honesty’s sake and to keep everyone humble.
“Thank you, Linda. No one is as pretty as Belle. Except maybe for Jayce,” Malika said, because she could be honest too.
“You know what? You are as pretty as Belle,” Tilly said, staring thoughtfully at him. “I never noticed before.”
“Go ahead. Have your fun, ladies,” Jayce said.
He stalked off.
Linda touched Malika’s hand to draw her attention. “I was going to marry Jayce when I grow up, but now I’m going to be ruined like you, instead.”
“Please let me be there when you tell your dad,” Tilly said. “Let’s go. Berries await.”
Soon, the trees thinned and the dirt path opened into a pretty meadow partially ringed by low bushes.
The bushes nearest the woods were heavy with small round berries of every shade of pink from light to dark purple blue.
On the far side of the clearing, the meadow sloped downward, and grass shifted to gravel.
Beyond the gravel, water flowed over rocks lining a shallow creek bed.
How very pretty.
Jayce, who arrived first, began a quick walk around the wooded perimeter of the meadow.
“He’s checking for bears,” Tilly explained when Malika asked why.
It turned out that bears liked berries too.
Jayce must have spotted something. He laid down his rifle, parted some bushes, then reached through with one arm. The bushes swallowed his head and upper body. He let out a hoarse shout. His whole body jerked, vibrated a few times, and he stumbled out of the bushes, swearing and shaking his hand.
Malika and her wide-eyed companions huddled together and watched as he leaned forward, head hanging, his hands on his thighs.
“Bear fence,” he rasped when he’d recovered his voice. He rubbed the left side of his chest with the heel of his palm. “Stay on this side of the bushes.”
“What’s a bear fence?” Malika whispered to Tilly.
Tilly didn’t take her nineteenth century role as seriously as Jayce, because she didn’t pretend not to know what Malika was talking about.
“An electrified fence. It delivers a pulsed shock of electricity that’s supposed to scare a bear off.
Adam must have set one here to see if it’s enough to drive them away from a food source. ”
“They had bear fences in the 1800s?”
“No. That’s why Adam hid it. But in the 1800s, we were allowed to shoot bears. Now the government put collars on them so researchers can track them.”
“Benny says the government puts trackers in vaccines so they can track people too.” Linda held out her arm. “I’ve got a tracker in me right here. See? Belle put it in me.”
“You do not have a tracker in you,” Tilly said. “Belle gave you protection against measles, rubella, and pertussis.”
“Does it work on bears too?” Linda asked.
“No. That’s why we had to bring Jayce along. He’s our bear protection.”
Jayce picked up his rifle. “How about I go sit down over here and catch my breath for a little bit while you ladies pick berries?”
Tilly handed the picnic basket to him. “You might as well protect the lunch too.”
Malika began picking ripe berries and dropping them into her basket. She checked on Jayce every few minutes to make sure he was alive. He kept rubbing his chest and shaking his arm.
“Should we be worried about him?” she asked Tilly.
“Good heavens, no.” Tilly dumped a handful of berries into Linda’s abandoned basket.
The little girl was more interested in exploring the tiny worlds that existed under the bushes.
“He’s a full-grown, healthy man. He got a little jolt of electricity, and he’s using it as an excuse to avoid women’s work. ”