When he looked at her like that, she thought,Sex dream. Oh please. I want a sex dream.
“I’d like to show you something, and explain a few things. Think you could stand my company for a few hours?”
“I do.” They smiled together, and she thought,Those are the two words that started all this.
He picked up the reins and they rode in silence for a while. “Who was the pastor?”
“That’s Tobias.” He sounded grim.
“Is he a good minister?”
“The worst. His sermons are a misery to hear. We built him a church but that didn’t help.”
“Wonder why he became a pastor?”
“His father made him.” She looked at him.
“Three shots of whiskey and he won’t stop talking.”
Etta understood. Her grandfather was a man who was sure he knew how everyone should live. He’d wanted Etta to be a lawyer. No one was less suited for that profession than she was. She wanted people tolikeher.
As they went across the undulating grassland, Etta felt sure they were in Kansas. She didn’t want to question him and make herself seem stranger than he already thought she was. “Where are we?” or “What year is it?” were as bad as “What war was it?”
He halted near a narrow, shallow river. There were pretty cottonwood trees along the side. It was a beautiful site. “This is nice.”
“I always thought so.” He nodded toward a small hill nearby. There appeared to be a door in it. “That’s where I grew up.” He hesitated. “Would you like to see it?”
“Very much so.”
He got down and Etta tried to figure out how to do the same, but the wagon was so high off the ground. Besides, she had on what felt like 150 pounds of clothing. But he came around to her side and held up his arms.Great, she thought and sort of fell forward, like a toddler playing Catch Me.
He swung her about, set her on the ground, then headed toward the door.
It was a house that was partially dug back into the hill, with extending walls made out of hard blocks of dirt. As she looked around, he told her about elephant grass and plowing under it and how the pioneers had made the sod houses.
She was more interested in the interior. It was one big room, with a bed in the back corner.
There was a fireplace and an iron stove with two burners on top. There was even a little oven.
The walls were coated in plaster that had been dyed pale blue. There was a nice oak table and chairs. As he talked, she opened a couple of wall cabinets. Inside were canned goods, rice and flour, and other food. Yes, she could make a meal with these. The place was quite clean and looked like it was still being used. “Is this your man cave?”
He stopped his history lecture. “My what?”
“Your place to get away by yourself. To escape all things female.”
He looked pleased at her perception. “It is. Not even Alice knows that I keep the old homestead up. Would you like some peaches?”
She’d seen the cans. “I’d love some.” She watched as he opened two cans with a big knife, handed her one and a spoon.
“You want to go outside?”
She followed him to the river. They sat on the grass, looking toward the water. Etta loved the peaches. They weren’t like twenty-first century canned fruit that was in a heavy syrup of sugar. These tasted more like peaches you’d pull off a tree.
“I guess I should explain about Cornelia.”
“If you want to.”
“My father came to America from Italy, and he was a good worker. He was ambitious and determined to succeed. He did without so he could buy more and more land. Maybe that’s why he and my mother died so young.”