you would approve of.”
She bit her bottom lip. All day this man had lectured her in a tone that grew
increasingly superior. Now he seemed to have gone out of his way to make her
feel condescended to. She was impressed that he knew so many things, but had
grown weary of his company. How could she have longed so desperately for this
chicken-chested blowhard to touch her?
It was growing dark when they rode up to the cabin. Mourning was still out in
the farm, but walked in to meet them.
“Hullo, Mourning,” she said.
Mourning nodded to Jeremy and then asked Olivia, “Where you been at? I
thought sure a bear or wolf went and et you.”
“I ran into Jeremy and he showed me the way to his place.”
“Look at you, ridin’ bare back, just like an Indian warrior.” Mourning held out
his hand to help her down.
She scooted back and put an indifferent hand on Jeremy’s shoulder while she
slipped her leg over Ernest’s back and then gripped Mourning’s hand and
descended with a thump.
“We’d be happy to have you stay for supper.” She looked up at Jeremy, hoping he would refuse.
“No. Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got to be going. Get some kip. Mind
yourselves. Good to see you again, Mourning. After.” He touched his hat and
rode away.
Mourning stood next to Olivia, watching Jeremy disappear into the dark.
“So I guess you had a good time,” Mourning said.
Olivia stared at the dark trees for a long pause before she turned to face him
and said, “No. No, I didn’t. Not at all. He’s got a great cabin and you have got to
see this pulley system he rigged up for bringing water up from the river. And his
shower. It’s amazing. He’s a clever man and a good neighbor, but you’ll be glad
to hear he’s like you said.”
Mourning looked at the ground. “Never said I be glad ’bout that. But least he
be your friend. Ain’t what you want, but havin’ the person you care ’bout as a friend ain’t nothin’.”
Olivia looked into Mourning’s face, appearing startled, as if she had just
awoken. As if the clouds had parted and a mystery had been solved. It was a devastating realization.
It’s Mourning, she thought. Mourning is the one I care for. Has been for along time. Not just as a friend. He’s the one it could be wonderful to share a life
with. But with Mourning there is nothing to hope for, no “if only he wanted me.”
Never. I might as well wish both of us dead as wish for him to express desire for
me. Nothing will ever change that. And no other man will ever feel like part of
me, the way Mourning does.
She slowly raised her hand to touch Mourning’s cheek before she spoke.
“You’re absolutely right. Having the man I truly care about as a friend is not nothing. I’d say it’s quite something.” The words hung between them for a
moment and then she said, “I’ll go start supper. I apologize for running out on you today.” She turned away.
