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Inside the cabin, Isabel collected herself and rushed to dress and pack a meal for the day. A couple hours later, they sat beneath a pungent eucalyptus eating the tortillas with brown sugar, powered cocoa, and cinnamon rolled into tubes that she'd made, and handfuls of dried apricots.
They'd gathered a good share of berries, having dodged a group to the south by riding west several miles, then doubling back in the higher country and heading for the glen undetected.
John had surprised her with that piebald mare she'd wanted—saddled and waiting in the yard next to his mount. When she asked him how he'd managed to get the horse when he'd given her all the berries, he wouldn't tell her. For a few flickering seconds, she wondered if he'd held out on her… if he'd kept some berries for his own vices.
She knew that nearly all the businesses in town were now taking only berries as payment. And she knew that John liked his liquor… But she didn't press him for an answer. She had to trust him. They were partners now.
"Goin' to be a cooker today," John mentioned as he brought his leg up and rested his forearm on his knee.
His accent made her ask, "Where are you originally from?"
He turned toward her. They shared the small blanket she'd brought, John leaning his back against the eucalyptus trunk. "Texarkana, Texas."
"You sound like you're from Texas."
"Do I? I didn't think my drawl was that noticeable."
She shook her head while smiling softly.
"Where're you from?"
"Los Angeles," she replied.
Isabel faced forward and looked at the expanse of wide open country growing wild with lilac, spicebush, and California juniper. It was hard to believe that she'd actually lived in the city, been confined by brick buildings, the first motor cars, and street noises so loud she'd grown used to them.
"You lived alone?"
"No. With my sister and her husband."
She thought about the two years prior to her arrival in Limonero.
She'd been living in a tiny apartment with Kate and Andrew while working as a maid at the Hotel Ramona. As much as she loved her sister, Isabel found the close quarters disquieting, especially when tensions rose between the couple.
Having gone through a bad marriage herself, Isabel hadn't wanted to add to Kate and Andrew's troubles by being in the way. So she'd packed her belongings, wished her sister well, and left on the first northbound train with the promise that she'd write. She did stay in touch, and was glad to hear the couple was working out their differences.
"Do you have family back in Texas?" she asked, folding her napkin and John's and putting them back in her picnic hamper.
"Nope. My dad and his new wife live in Mexico. My mother's dead. I've got a brother—Tom, who lives in Montana. I haven't seen him in ages." His expression grew distant, as if talking about his brother wasn't something he was used to. "You see your sister much?"
"No."
"Sometimes families just drift apart, I expect."
Quietly, she nodded.
They shared something, and it somewhat unsettled Isabel. Both of them had family; both of them were on their own. Both of them seemed to be… loners. She didn't like the word. She hated even using it on herself. But it was the truth. She didn't get close to people. The only person she could call a friend was Duster, and even so, she didn't see him as often as she used to. Except for that night in the Blossom, she hadn't sat with him for a long spell and had a conversation.
"You sure have had a slew of jobs since coming to town," John commented, pulling Isabel from her thoughts.
The dry inflection in his tone put a pebble in her shoe. It sounded as if he wondered what was wrong with her that she couldn't hold the same position for more than a few months.
"Yes, I have." She stared at him, daring him to make a smart remark.
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't bite my head off. I was just making an observation. Hell, the same could be said about me."
"You're right. It sure could."
She'd seen him working at the feed and seed, the livery, repairing the engines Calco used on the rigs, and warming the bench in front of the Republic while eating peanuts and drinking beer. The latter was his favorite occupation.
