Rio Grande Wedding Part 15

His mouth turned down and he lifted his coffee cup. "I do not blame anyone here. People wish to protect what they have, no? And if thepoliticos inMexicowould do what they should, we would not need to run here."

"Yeah. It's a complicated issue.

"No," he said quietly. "It is simple, really. As long asAmericais here, so much richer, there will be Mexicans who come."

Molly smiled. "That does make it sound simple." To shift the direction of the conversation away from politics, she said, "I've wanted to travel inMexico. What's it like?"

"In the north, much of it is like this." He spread his hands toward the door. "But then it gets better. Where I lived, the land is rich. We grow many things, and sell them to the exporters you know, who make frozen vegetables?"

"And what made it a good life?"

He inclined his head, making that hair fall a little to one side. Light caught on the glossiness, and Molly knew she was only talking to keep him there. But when he lifted his eyes, frankly, to hers, she decided he talked in order to stay. "It's a simple world. The days are the same. It's good, knowing you will wake up in your bed and the fields will be waiting, and then at night, we will sit in the back with the dogs, and maybe some children, and somebody plays guitar." He smiled. "Boring, no?"

"Not at all." In fact, she thought his description said a lot about his character. It reinforced her feeling that he was a man of the land, truly born of it, with the rhythms carved in his soul. "It sounds peaceful."

"Peaceful. Yes, that's a good word." Absently, he touched his ribs.

"Are you in pain?"

"No. Not so much." He laughed a little, as if in surprise. "I was thinking this is a peaceful place, too."

Molly laughed. "No, this is really boring. I had to get Leo, the cat, to have some entertainment." Apologetically, she lifted a shoulder. "I don't always like living so far out. I lived in town all my life."

"So you want the cars in the streets, those lights shining in your window?"

"Not exactly but I like kids walking by after school. And talking with my neighbors.

Having somebody over the back fence."

The large dark eyes fixed on her face, strangely sober. "You are lonely. That is why you wanted me to stay."

Molly ducked her head instantly, but it wasn't quick enough to hide her humiliation. It burned along her ears, and she was grateful for the hair that would covet it.

He touched her hand on the table and said gently, "I know about lonely, too."

She couldn't quite bear to look at his face, but his fingertips rested lightly on her fingernails, the lightest possible touch, and she could look there. "Loneliness," she said absently, and raised her head. "It's lonely and loneliness. One is an adjective, the other a noun."

"Ah." He nodded, but did not take his hand away. "Same in Spanish.Solitario andsoledad." He tapped her forefinger with his own. "And one more, too. If a place is lonely, it isaislado ."

"Aislado."The word made her think of a desert beneath a full moon, a lone rider crossing in danger. "I like that."

"You are lonely," he said. "I know about loneliness. And this " he gestured to the door " is, for you,aislado . Can you say that word in English?"

She thought. Shook her head. "No. I don't think there is a word." She lifted a shoulder. "Haunted, maybe."

"Is your land haunted, Molly?"

She thought of the nights when she lay alone in her bed and heard coyotes howling in the distance and sometimes not so distant. She thought of the emptiness of the fields when they were blanketed in snow, and not a single footstep showed on it for days and days. "No," she said. "Aisladois better."

His smile shifted every line, every angle in his face into a new light, putting mischief in his faintly tilted eyes. Molly wondered why it felt so amazingly good to have that zillion-watt grin turned on her.

And at the answer, she was appalled. Loneliness. She had been terribly, terribly lonely out here, and he broke the sameness. He made her smile, and gave her someone to take care of and someone to talk to.

Stiffly, she stood. "You should go back to bed."

Perplexed, he inclined his head. "I offended you."

"No," she said. "I embarra.s.sed myself, that's all, and I'd like a little time to recover my dignity."

He frowned a little, but leaning on the table, pulledhimself to a standing position.

Molly moved close automatically to offer her shoulder, and he looped his long arm around her, using the wall for additional support.

And though they'd done this several times, Molly found herself a little lost in the sensations tonight. She was aware of his lean hip close to her side, of his wrist against her shoulder, and more than anything, the scent of him, his skin and hair and the warm places.

"Do you want to go to your room, or would you like to watch television or something, maybe?"

"I would like television." His voice didn't show nearly as much strain as it had earlier, and she was taking far less of his weight than she had this morning. He must be prodigiously healthy.

Then she realized he'd walked under his own power to the back door earlier, and she raised her head. "You didn't really need my help this time, did you?"

A wicked glint sparked in the laughing eyes. "Si,senora. I feel so weak."

They'd reached the living room, and she slid away. "You must think I'm very silly."

He laughed, and caught her collar before she could quite get away. "No. I think you are

kind." The smile faded a little as he took her hair, now braided tightly, into his hand. "And I did not mean to hurt you when I said you were lonely."

Every word, made oddly musical, in his accent, fell like rain on her dry soul. "It's all right." She took a breath. "It's probably true. Lucky for you, huh?"

He let her braid fall. "Yes. Lucky me."

Chapter 6.

Molly ill.u.s.trated the use of the remote control, and aware of an odd, pleased sense of happiness, went back to the kitchen, mouthingdotada under her breath, putting her tongue on her teeth in imitation of him, then tried the other words. Especiallyaislado . Great word.

Running the sink full of hot sudsy water, she mused for the millionth time on the fact that, even with all the opportunities around her, she still did not speak very much Spanish. There were four all-Spanish radio stations and two television stations in the area. At least half the people in the valley spoke Spanish albeit a colonial version that had some inconsistencies at home and within the community, to each other.

Everyone was expected to know the most basic things.

It seemed, with so much opportunity, almost absurd that they weren't all bilingual.

The phone rang as she was drying her hands. Expecting Lynette, Molly answered cheerfully.

"Oh, good," said the voice on the other end of the line. "You sound a lot better."

It was Cathy, the nursing supervisor at the small hospital where Molly worked. Busted.

"Iam, thanks. It wasn't that bad to start with. I just didn't think I ought to be breathing all over the patients with a virus."