Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

She heard the plodding of horse’s hooves on the hard-baked ground and the rattle of metal harness pieces. Stefan was coming in from the fields. She straightened and pushed her skirt over her knees when he came into view.

“Is supper ready?” he asked and whoaed the mare.

Anger flashed through her at the way he expected her to work in the fields and have supper ready when he came in, too. “No.” Her voice was a dry rasp. “I just got the mare unharnessed.”

“Veil? She is unharnessed now,” he prompted irritably.

It was useless to argue that she was tired. Supper still had to be put on the table, and it fell to Lilli to do it. She walked stiffly into the shack and banged things around. It helped to momentarily relieve her frustration and growing sense of hopelessness that all this work was for nothing. There was only the slimmest chance that they’d have a third of their usual harvest.

With the potato soup heating on the stove, Lilli went to the wash basin and dipped a cloth in the water to press against her hot skin. A small rectangular mirror hung above the basin. She looked at her reflection—the dullness of her hair, her sun-browned skin, and the hollows under her eyes. She was a very old twenty-five.

“There’s no reason to think about him anymore,” she murmured to herself. “Webb wouldn’t want you now.”

She turned away from the mirror, unable to look at herself. The wet cloth was laid aside as she walked to the stove to stir the soup. Outside, she heard Stefan at the cistern, pumping water into a bucket. She stepped out the door to call to him.

“Don’t forget to water the garden.” It had nearly burned out in this heat, but some of the vegetables might be saved.

Stefan was bent over the bucket, sloshing water on his face. He looked so old and broken, without the will to go on, but there was a stubbornness in him, too. It came from that awful fear of failure that drove him. Although he never told Lilli, he was convinced this long, dry weather was God’s punishment for his German birth and the war that raged over there. Instead of shouldering it as a cross, it became a chip. When he cupped his hand to take a drink from the bucket, Lilli frowned worriedly.

“The water hasn’t been tasting right, Stefan,” she warned. “I’ve been boiling it before we use it for drinking.”

But he paid no attention to her and swallowed several handfuls before he straightened. “It is just varm,” he insisted and picked up the bucket to take it to the garden.

Everything was warm, Lilli thought. It never cooled off, not even at night. She went back into the house and ladled the soup into bowls. The table and chairs had been moved outside so they could eat where the air was not so stifling. With this endless heat, it became so close in the shanty that Lilli felt suffocated. But it wasn’t much better outside unless the wind blew. Even a hot breeze was preferable to none, although it meant dust being blown into the food. Not that it mattered, since her mouth felt gritty all the time.

Confined and restless, Webb laid down the pencil and pushed out of the big leather chair. The damned paperwork was endless. It multiplied into mounds every time he turned his back on it for one day. He crossed the den to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of whiskey. After a quick, burning swallow, he shuddered and rubbed the back of his neck.

There was a noise, the faint squeak of a floorboard. He looked up and saw Ruth in the doorway. He attempted a smile. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t disturb you if you were working.” She glanced at the desk. “Are you all finished?”

“Hardly.” He tipped his head back to toss down another swallow.

“I came by to invite you to have supper with Dad and me,” she explained.

He hesitated, looking at her, then shook his head. “I’d better pass. I’m liable to spend the evening talking instead of taking care of that paperwork.”

“You do have to eat,” she persisted. “I promise I’ll chase you out as soon as you’re finished eating.”

“Or maybe you could stand over me with a ruler,” Webb suggested in a dry reference to her schoolteaching.

“If you’ve ever been in my classroom, you’d know I don’t do that with my pupils.” She smiled tentatively. “You used to stop by now and then, but you haven’t been by lately.”

“I’ve been too busy.” He shrugged aside the length of time that had passed since he’d been in her company. “I’m surprised you noticed. Haskell seems to be a regular caller nowadays.”

“Does that bother you?” She hoped it did. She hoped he was jealous. He had noticed Virg Haskell was paying attention to her even though she had tried to discourage him.

“Why should it bother me?” He frowned his surprise at the question. “You’re the one he’s seeing.” Another thought occurred to him. “Is he pestering you? I can tell him to leave you alone, if you want.”

“That isn’t necessary.” Ruth lowered her head, feeling defeated again. “Will you come to supper?” She repeated her invitation, taking one more chance that he’d accept.

His gaze ran over her, as if measuring her against someone else. “No, thanks,” he refused.

A little knife twisted in her heart. “You still haven’t forgotten her, have you?” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but now that she had, she wasn’t sorry.

His mouth thinned and came down at the corners. “No, I guess I haven’t,” he agreed in a clipped voice. Neither of them had to say her name. They both knew she had meant Lilli.

“She’s married, Webb.” It took a great deal of courage for Ruth to say that.