in a vague, unfocused way, as if making up his mind about something.
He’s not really looking at me, she thought. He’s trying to figure out how longgood manners require that he stand here bored to death talking to me.
“You might want to come with me,” he said.
He had looked away from her, busying himself rolling up his shirtsleeves. She
could see the taut muscles running up his forearm and felt an urge to run her finger over them.
“Where?”
“Surprise.” He grinned and put a finger to his lips. “Come along.”
He turned and she followed, hoping his water skin held enough for two, as
she had brought none and was already thirsty. He walked on, never looking back
to see if she was still there. The trail was narrow so she had no choice but to trudge along behind him.
Like one of those squaws, she thought, remembering the day she and
Mourning had driven over to see the Wyandot Indian village. Olivia had brought
her journal and began making a sketch of the long houses.
“Look, here come the tribe,” Mourning said.
A long line of people was moving into the clearing, single file. The women
were all at the end of the line, carrying everything in the world on their backs.
Olivia could see only the hems of their dresses and their feet, as they shuffled along under piles of stuff.
Well, at least I’m not carrying a mountain, she thought, as she watched Jeremy’s back and wondered if he intended to ever say another word. They
continued in silence for half an hour before coming to the river, at a place where
it was too deep to wade across. Flat-topped white rocks formed a zigzag trail across it and Olivia assumed he intended to lead her over them.
Aha. Now he’ll have to offer me his hand.
But Jeremy paused under a spreading maple next to a stand of bushes and
motioned for her to follow his example and sit down.
As he settled himself, back pressed against the trunk of the tree, he said, “If
we both keep very quiet you have a good chance of seeing something special.”
“What?” she asked.
“Wait and see.” He put his finger to his lips again.
She sat a short distance from him and fidgeted. Finally she moved around so
she could rest her back against the opposite side of the trunk.
“You don’t have any food with you, do you?” he asked over his shoulder. “In
your pockets or anything?”
“No, sorry.”
“I’m not asking because I’m hungry.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“You’ll see.”
They sat in silence. The bugs didn’t seem to be bothering Jeremy, but they
were all over Olivia and she batted her hands at them. She was hot and tired and
soon grew restless. What were they waiting for?
Jeremy fiddled in his pocket, twisted around, and motioned for her to lean
toward him. At last. Her irritation evaporated. He was shy and had been getting
