Jay wouldn’t let Nimmi and me go alone into the lower pasture in the dead of night to collect the gold. He’s already upset with me for going out to Canara Enterprises by myself.
Now he’s with us at the edge of the pasture as we call out, softly, to the sheep. We work as quietly as we can, but there is little we can do about their bleating. Nimmi grabs a sheep, I shine the flashlight on it and Jay cuts through the stitches to retrieve the gold bars.
I’ve stabled Chandra for the night and brought our other horse, a short blond pony. If our calculations are correct, the gold will weigh no more than twenty pounds, less than a small child, and the pony should be able to handle the burden.
The task is difficult because we’re working in the dark. We hear night animals around us: marmots and weasels going about their business in the recesses of the surrounding pine forest. Down here, in the lower meadow, the sheep are relatively safe from large predators. If a leopard or Himalayan bear were to attack the flock, it would leave us with fewer gold bars. I tell myself I mustn’t worry about what I can’t control; even so, my heart is racing and the blood is pounding in my ears. Although the night is cool and my fingers feel like ice, I’m sweating underneath my jacket. I’m still wearing the same clothes from this morning when I went to look for Nimmi up in the mountains.
From time to time we happen upon a sheep we’ve already worked on; we let her go and find another. Nimmi was smart to count the flock when she brought them to the lower pasture earlier. Once we’ve reached thirty-nine, we’ll know for certain that we’ve checked them all.
It takes two hours. We know we’re done when the total number of gold bars we’ve collected matches the number we calculated. As we predicted, every animal was carrying four bars. We put the gold in Nimmi’s flower basket, then tie the basket on the pony. I use the rajai I brought from home to cover our illicit cargo.
Nimmi casts an eye over the flock, the pockets of fleece hanging open on both sides of their bodies. “They should be sheared—really sheared. Then I could sell the wool and keep the money for my nephews.” Nimmi’s voice catches. “That’s what Vinay would have done.” She turns to me. “I can do it in the mornings little by little before I get to the clinic. I should be done in four days.”
I tilt my head. Of course.
* * *
It’s midnight before the three of us and the pony arrive at Nimmi’s house. Jay and I wait at a distance with the pony while Nimmi collects her children from the Aroras and brings them down to her lodging, one in each arm, both asleep.
She asks me to come inside with her as she settles Rekha and Chullu on the bedroll.
She whispers, “I won’t open my flower stall tomorrow. I’ll go with you to Canara instead, Ji.”
I understand why she doesn’t want Jay to hear; he’s upset enough at me for going alone today. “We can’t both be absent from the clinic for a second day. We’ve caused enough disruption. I would rather you go to the Healing Garden tomorrow. Pretend everything is normal. Tell the nurses you weren’t feeling well today or make some other excuse.” In the quiet of the evening, I’m careful not to speak of gold. “They know me now at Canara, so it’s better if I take it.”
Nimmi looks at me for a long moment, her face covered in shadow. I can see the white orbs of her eyes. It’s as if she wants to say something, but then she wags her head and closes the door after me.
I can tell when something’s bothering Jay. He stops teasing me. While I stable the pony next to our backyard corral, and give him food and water, Jay carries Nimmi’s gold-laden basket into the house.
When I come into the drawing room, he’s sitting in an armchair, rolling a glass of Laphroaig between his palms. He’s already poured a glass for me and holds it out for me to take.
I take the glass and smooth his hair. “You’re worried?”
“Who wouldn’t be, Lakshmi? Why would you risk your life—our lives—for someone else’s problem?” His voice is low and measured.
I let his words sit for a moment. Then I go to the side table where I keep letters and extract the most recent letter I received from Malik.
I return to Jay and hand him the letter. “Malik sent this to me a week ago.” I pick up my glass of scotch and leave him to read the letter alone.
Dear Nimmi and Auntie-Boss,
I’m learning a lot here in Jaipur. Like what materials are best for which type of building. The cost of buying land and the cost of building from the ground up. How foundations are laid. Manu Uncle has been sending me around to different departments within his facilities division so his people can teach me all parts of the business. By now I’m starting to see buildings being constructed in my dreams. (You would love Hakeem, the accountant I work with. He’s a funny little man. But I like him. He’s been here forever—probably since the Moghul Empire!)
The best part of this experience has been spending time with Nikhil. He’s just like Radha—twelve going on twenty! Boss, you would be so impressed with how Kanta Auntie and Manu Uncle have raised him. He’s a sweet, funny boy, and—more important, in my book—a phenomenal cricket player! We spend many Sundays batting and bowling. He’s almost as good as I am! (I’m sure he would disagree and say I’m pretty good for an old man.) I can’t wait until Chullu is old enough for me to put a cricket bat in his hand! Please tell Rekha that I haven’t forgotten about the rainbow I’m supposed to bring back for her from Jaipur. She thinks every city has its own rainbow, and I don’t have the heart to disappoint her!
Boss, the next part is just for you, so don’t read it to Nimmi!
I know you want the best for me. You always have. And for that, I’m grateful. But the longer I’m away from Nimmi, the more I realize how much I care for her. I miss her quiet ways. I admire how hard she works to feed and clothe Rekha and Chullu (both of whom I’ve come to love as my own). I help her out with a little money now and then, but—Hai Ram!—I have to practically force her to take it.
I realize that you might wish a different woman for me—more learned or more sophisticated—but I’m content with Nimmi. In the eight months I’ve known her, I’ve learned about the beauty of the Himalayas and the treasures the mountains hold. I know she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but I would ask you for a favor.
Please treat Nimmi as you would a sister, as you’ve always treated Radha. Nimmi will never ask you for anything, so you might have to thrust your kindness on her. She has such a good, loyal heart. Her loss has been tragic—no one should have to lose a spouse so young. But it has been my gain and brought me much happiness.
Yours,
Malik
Jay finds me in the bath. I’m scrubbing the last of today’s grime, horse odor, dust and sweat from my skin. Jay sets the letter on the edge of the tub, puts his hands in his pockets and rattles the loose change he’s carrying in them.