“You mean this is the only one?” Marie asked with a sound of stunned awe in her voice after what the woman had said.
“Yes, I make one of a kind pieces for the store. I don’t know who exactly it’s for when I make it, but I know every piece of jewelry I make will find the right home.” Her eyes had taken on a far-away look as if there was something mystical calling to her. Her long silk skirt and the matching sapphire-blue silk scarf tied around her hair, gave her a witchy, but appealing, air.
“Thank you, I believe you’re right. It’s perfect for us both.” Matteo reached out his hand to shake the woman’s fragile, almost bird-like hand before he turned back to his wife. “Right, well, now let’s go find Anton and get some groceries.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Marie agreed and gave the jewelry maker a broad grin. “Thank you for making this for me.”
“It was my pleasure,” the woman said softly as they left the store hand in hand.
Matteo looked around as they left the shop behind and walked down to the grocery store. He was always vigilant when he left the safety of a confined space but even more so when Marie was with him. He didn’t learn to be that way after the attack, it had come naturally once she became his wife, but now he felt even more determined to keep an eye out for any danger. She deserved every ounce of devotion and vigilance he gave her.
9
“There are turkeys outside,” Marie said to Matteo the next morning as he walked into the kitchen. “Four females and a male.”
“How do you know the difference?” he asked with mirth in his voice, as if he was always amazed and amused by the things she knew.
“Females, the hens, have lighter colored skin on their heads. The males will have red and blue looking skin. And then there’s obviously the feathers when they puff up to attract the females. This one had a moment where he walked around, dragging his feathers in the snow.”
“I see,” he muttered as he walked over to the window to look out at the small group of turkeys still out there, scratching around in the snow. “Should we put some sort of food out for them?”
“I don’t think so. They might get used to it and that wouldn’t be good.” She looked down at the sausage she had frying in a pan and tried not to think about how long they’d be there before they went back to New York.
Even with Anton in the attic above them all day, it still felt peaceful, quiet, like it was just them two. He’d disappear into the room he’d made an office for a while off and on throughout the day, but he was still there, and she loved that. They’d never spent so much time together and while it was hard to hide the things she didn’t want him to see with him always there, she’d managed so far.
One of those things was how the tremor in her pinky finger had spread to her whole right hand. It even traveled up her arm sometimes, but so far, she’d been able to keep it from him. She’d put her arm behind her back, or under her head, or turn that part of her body away from him when she felt it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t there, that the worry wasn’t there.
“Have you never hunted before?” she asked as she checked on the biscuits in the oven, mainly as a way to distract herself from her own thoughts. He answered as she pulled the golden-brown buttermilk biscuits from the oven.
“No, it’s not something my family ever really participated in, as far as I know. We’re city people and our food has always come from a butcher or a grocery store. We don’t kill wild animals for sport either.” Something in his tone told her that there was more to that last sentence, something along the lines of: “we don’t kill wild animals that are human unless they cross us in some way”.
She didn’t want to think about that either, right now, and turned to the sausage now finished in the pan. “Do you want gravy with breakfast, or shall we just have sausage biscuits with scrambled eggs?”
“Sausage biscuits are fine.” He poured three glasses of orange juice and set them on the table as Anton came into the kitchen.
“It smells lovely, as always,” the big man said as he went to sit in his usual chair, at the other end of the rectangular table.
The room was filled with windows so there was plenty of natural light as the sun streamed down onto snow that reflected it back with bright, piercing beams. It was too cold for the snow to melt but the sun tried to do its job.
Marie set the food down onto the table and sat quietly as the men discussed security. They’d repaired the fence the bear had broken in through the day before and had checked the rest of the perimeter. The only way anyone could slip in now was through the gate, which was basically just a cattle gate, meant to keep vehicles out. That’s how the turkeys had gotten in, Marie thought as she glanced out of the window in front of the table.
“I called the owner and he said we can replace the gate if we want to, at our expense of course,” Anton told Matteo as he placed scrambled egg onto the biscuit and then a piece of sausage. He glanced up at Matteo and then, swiftly, at Marie.
She hid a smile behind her biscuit as she took a bite. He was getting used to being around her. That was good. She had started to feel bad for him, that he had to be around her so much when it obviously made him uncomfortable. He was coming around, though, and that was a good thing.
“You going to run into town and get that?” Matteo asked as he built another biscuit, then went to the fridge to bring back slices of cheddar.
Marie took one of the slices and assembled her own biscuit. “If you’re going into town, can you stop at the store and get a beef roast? I think I’d like to cook one for dinner.”
She’d found a slow cooker in one of the cabinets earlier and wanted to use it. Matteo had already banned her from wood-carrying duty for the day because it was so cold, so she needed something to fill her time. She could only do so much knitting and reading could consume days, but none of the books she’d bought really grabbed her now that she was back at the cabin. Maybe a day of cooking would do her some good.
“Sure, Marie.” Anton nodded and smiled at her quickly, before he looked away, his face now red because their eyes had come together. That poor man, she thought and got up from the table.
“I’ll get everything started here for dinner and put the meat in when you get back then.”
She put the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen while the men got ready to get on their way.
Matteo would spend a couple of hours bringing in firewood while Anton was gone. Marie watched him for a moment from one of the windows, long after Anton had gone, and wondered at how strong he was. He might be a city boy, but he worked hard, all day long.
She admired the way his body moved as he brought in armfuls of wood, even under the thick coat he’d found in town. It was a black, insulated coat, typical of those in the farming community because it was able to keep the wearer warm, even in the coldest of temperatures. It wasn’t the kind of coat he’d wear at any other time in his life, she knew, but it suited him, she thought. The black knit cap on his head did things to her too, to her insides that were always on alert around him.
The black cap made his eyes stand out to her in ways that just made her feel… squishy. Like her insides had turned to mush and if she looked at him too long, she’d forget words. All of them. She turned away from the window now and went to prepare the vegetables she’d use in the pot roast. She’d found a recipe she wanted to try and wanted to make sure she had everything before Anton came back. She’d call him from the house phone if she needed something.