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“Well?” Wilma challenged, giving Paige an impatient stare. “You going to weave those yourself?”
“Oh,” Paige said, hurrying to place Wilma’s basket beside the rest of the willows. “What beautiful baskets,” she sighed, admiring the intricate shapes, sizes and designs. She leaned down to take a closer look at a small, tightly woven, narrow-necked basket of reds and rusts not much bigger than Paige’s hand. “Exquisite.”
“It is yours.” Aiesha picked up the tiny treasure and held it out to Paige.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Paige cried, taking a step back.
“Bad luck to refuse,” Aiesha stated, still holding it out. “A friendship gift.”
Paige glanced from Aiesha to Wilma, who watched with her eyebrow cocked and a hand on her hip. “Best take it. We’ve had enough bad luck around here without you bringing on more.” Her quirky grin followed, along with a wink.
“I don’t know what to say,” Paige whispered taking the basket in both hands. She swore it warmed her palms, as if it contained special magic. And it definitely warmed her heart.
Placing her gift carefully on the fur where Aiesha worked, Paige reached behind her neck and undid the clasp on the fine chain she wore.
It held her antique twenty-dollar gold piece. Her first gift to herself after leaving foster-care, getting a job, renting an apartment, and becoming an adult. It was her symbol of freedom. Of being the master of her own life.
Though it still meant a great deal to her, some of its luster had been lost when she’d recently realized she hadn’t really been the master of her life, after all. She’d merely kept everything spinning in a holding pattern, waiting for Austin to come. To keep his promise. To be a family.
She pulled the necklace loose and handed it to Aiesha. “A friendship gift.”
Aiesha’s eyes sparkled as she took the coin in her palm, letting the delicate chain dangle from her fingers. She gingerly traced its surface with a finger, her grin growing with each pass. “Aiesha thanks you.”
The happiness bursting inside Paige from the joy on Aiesha’s face was a far greater gift than the necklace had ever been. She turned to Wilma. “I regret I only have the one necklace to give, but I’d love to help you gather more reeds and willows if you need them. In fact, I’d be grateful if you’d show me where and how to get them.”
Wilma’s enigmatic smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Sure. We can go. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll even lend you a basket. If we come back with a big enough load, Aiesha might trade you for a good,serviceablebasket. You can’t do a lot of work with thatlittle prettyyou just picked out.”
“Thank you,” Paige said. “I’ll take you up on that. But,” she gazed at her stunning little basket, “I guess I’m still a sucker for beautiful things.”
“I will show you more beauty,” Aiesha said, moving to a clay pot near her sleeping furs.
“She must like you,” Wilma whispered. “She doesn’t show her treasure to just anyone.”
When Aiesha came back, she opened the drawstrings on a small leather pouch and poured eight small, polished stones into Paige’s palm. “Oh, my,” Paige gasped. “They’re stunning. They truly are a treasure.”
“Yes,” Aiesha grinned proudly. “For something special.”
“Thank you for showing me,” Paige said, carefully handing them back. “They’re truly beautiful.”
When she left the tepee half an hour later, the women were no longer strangers. Paige imagined them as the mother, aunt, sister, best friend, she’d never had. They’d laughed, joked, and even gossiped a little.
She’d asked about Austin and listened as both women confirmed everything Elsie had told her. How much longer she could continue to defend her brother, even to herself?
* * *
Wind buffeted the tiny tent,whistling and howling as distant thunder cracked the sky. Cocooned inside, Paige felt as if she and Taran were the only two people left in the world.
“How was your day, dear?” she teased, passing Taran a plate of cold meat and vegetables. They both sat cross-legged on their sleeping bags, pleased to be out of the wind that had pummeled the valley since dusk. Propped against Taran’s bag, his flashlight gave an otherworldly glow to the tiny space.
Taran had brought his own pot of hot water after finishing his day with Finn and took a turn washing up inside the tent. He’d used Will’s dirk to shave and now Paige’s traitorous fingers itched to test how close that shave really was.
Since he’d left his dirt covered boots outside the tent, Taran set the dirk atop his bag. Paige had to admit the workmanship was beautiful. But she knew Taran’s attachment came far more from his friend’s generosity, than the knife’s beauty.
Passing Taran some water to drink, Paige couldn’t help leaning a little closer to capture his clean scent. That same bar of soap hadn’t been nearly as captivating when she’d used it.
“ ’Twas a good day…uh…dear,” Taran grinned, taking the plate. “I enjoy Finn a great deal. Despite his being Irish,” he teased, taking a bite of venison, and chewing with satisfaction. “He’s been here near a year. But tragically, when hetraveled, his wife and son were left behind. He grieves them terribly. ’Tis a horrible thing tae lose the ones ye love.” His eyes held hers for several seconds before he looked away and stabbed a tomato. “I dinnae ken anyone knows that better than ye.”
She waited a moment before diving into the question uppermost on her mind. “Did Finn remember Austin?” She prayed if he did, his response would be different than those she’d already encountered. Otherwise, all hope was lost for her to continue believing otherwise.
