Page 23 of Rainshadow

The news was so surprising that her mother might have said that a parade was going by the house.

“A visitor?” Flora said, stepping out of her room.

Her mother looked at her with narrow, questioning eyes. “A man.”

“A man?”

Flora’s heart leaped. She stopped herself from rushing to the door.

In her fantasies, Ethan came to her and stood waiting on her doorstep. Now, he was there, and she felt as though she were in some book, some dream, the hero of her story come to tell her that he chose her, that it was really she that he desired.

“Ethan,” she said.

“Your mother didn’t invite me in,” he said, and his voice was as cool as the night.

“Come in, please, come in,” Flora said. She was breathless. She felt like she could faint into his arms as they stood in the cramped little living room of the bus.

“Where have you been, Flora?” he asked. “Sylvia said you quit? That didn’t sound right to me.”

Flora looked up at him. His eyes, questioning and kind, made her heart thump. “Did she tell you what happened? To her horse Bane?”

“Yes,” he said, “a terrible accident, but not your fault. She doesn’t blame you.”

“It seemed like she did. I can’t… I can’t work for someone who thinks I killed one of her horses, Ethan. She’s so…”

“I know. I know she’s difficult,” he said, closing his eyes. Then, he took her hand. His own hand was soft and cool, and calmed her. “She’s difficult because…” He took a ragged breath. “She’s sick, Flora. She’s very sick. She was never an easy woman to get along with, but she was, at least, vibrant. Now…” He looked up at the painted ceiling of the bus, closed his eyes again. “Now she’s so angry. Angry at the world, angry at me, angry at everything. It’s not you, Flora, that she’s angry about. You have to understand.”

Flora nodded.

“She can’t run the farm without you. I can’t help her. I’m allergic to horses. Did you know that?”

They both laughed, a quiet, sad laughter.

“She is so determined, so independent, but she just can’t do it. She’s weak, and she’s getting weaker every day. One day—” He seemed unable to continue.

One day, Flora thought, Sylvia would die.

“What do you want from me?” Flora asked, looking up at him, and she tried to tell him with her eyes how much she cared for him. “I can’t… if Sylvia hates me, doesn’t want me there, I can’t work at Rainshadow.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Ethan insisted. “I’ve made her promise that if you come back, she must be kind to you.”

“I don’t know,” Flora said. “I’ve applied for another job.”

“Where?”

“As a policeman,” Flora said, laughing in a sort of self-deprecating way. “Mounted police.”

“Oh,” said Ethan, his elegant eyebrows peaking in surprise. “That might be a wonderful job for you. But they wouldn’t need you like Sylvia needs you. Like I need you.”

Flora looked up at him. What was he really asking her?

“Ok,” she said. “Until I hear back from this other job, at least.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Ethan said, and gave her hand a squeeze. “And… I’ll drive you home from now on, ok? Until you can get a car? You just have to wait for sunset when I’m off of work.”

“I don’t mind walking.”

“We’ll see.”

---