CHAPTER20

nowinthenighthelayandwaitedforthegirltocometohim.therewasnowindnowandthepineswerestillinthenight.thetrunksofthepinesprojectedfromthesnowthatcoveredalltheground,andhelayintherobefeelingthesupplenessofthebedunderhimthathehadmade,hislegsstretchedlongagainstthewarmthoftherobe,theairsharpandcoldonhisheadandinhisnostrilsashebreathed.underhishead,ashelayonhisside,wasthebulgeofthetrousersandthecoatthathehadwrappedaroundhisshoestomakeapillowandagainsthissidewasthecoldmetalofthebigautomaticpistolhehadtakenfromtheholsterwhenheundressedandfastenedbyitslanyardtohisrightwrist.hepushedthepistolawayandsettleddeeperintotherobeashewatched,acrossthesnow,thedarkbreakintherocksthatwastheentrancetothecave.theskywasclearandtherewasenoughlightreflectedfromthesnowtoseethetrunksofthetreesandthebulkoftherockswherethecavewas.

earlierintheeveninghehadtakentheaxandgoneoutsideofthecaveandwalkedthroughthenewsnowtotheedgeoftheclearingandcutdownasmallsprucetree.inthedarkhehadedit,buttfirst,totheleeoftherockwall.thereclosetotherock,hehadheldthetreeupright,holdingthetrunkfirmwithonehand,and,holdingtheax-haftclosetotheheadhadloppedoffalltheboughsuntilhehadapileofthem.then,leavingthepileofboughs,hehadlaidthebarepoleofthetrunkdowninthesnowandgoneintothecavetogetaslabofwoodhehadseenagainstthewall.withthisslabhescrapedthegroundclearofthesnowalongtherockwallandthenpickeduphisboughsandshakingthemcleanofsnowlaidtheminrows,likeoverlappingplumes,untilhehadabed.heputthepoleacrossthefootoftheboughbedtoholdthebranchesinplaceandeditfirmwithtwopointedpiecesofwoodhesplitfromtheedgeoftheslab.

thenhecarriedtheslabandtheaxbackintothecave,duckingundertheblanketashecamein,andleanedthembothagainstthewall.

“whatdoyoudooutside?”pilarhadasked.

“imadeabed.”“don’tcutpiecesfrommynewshelfforthybed.”

“iamsorry.”

“ithasnoimportance,”shesaid.“therearemoreslabsatthesawmill.whatsortofbedhastthoumade?”

“asinmycountry.”

“thensleepwellonit,”shehadsaidandrobertjordanhadopenedoneofthepacksandpulledtherobeoutandreplacedthosethingswrappedinitbackinthepackandcarriedtherobeout,duckingundertheblanketagain,andspreaditovertheboughssothattheclosedendoftherobewasagainstthepolethatwasedcross-wiseatthefootofthebed.theopenheadoftherobewasprotectedbytherockwallofthecliff.thenhewentbackintothecaveforhispacksbutpilarsaid,“theycansleepwithmeaslastnight.”

“willyounothavesentries?”heasked.“thenightisclearandthestormisover.”

“fernandogoes,”pilarsaid.

mariawasinthebackofthecaveandrobertjordancouldnotseeher.

“goodnighttoeveryone,”hehadsaid.“iamgoingtosleep.”

oftheothers,whowerelayingoutblanketsandbedrollsonthefloorinfrontofthecookingfire,pushingbacktheslabtablesandtherawhide-coveredstoolstomakesleepingspace,primitivoandandréslookedupandsaid,“buenasnoches.”

anselmowasalreadyasleepinacorner,rolledinhisblanketandhiscape,notevenhisnoseshowing.pablowasasleepinhischair.

“doyouwantasheephideforthybed?”pilaraskedrobertjordansoftly.

“nay,”hesaid.“thankthee.idonotneedit.”

“sleepwell,”shesaid.“iwillrespondforthymaterial.”

fernandohadgoneoutwithhimandstoodamomentwhererobertjordanhadspreadthesleepingrobe.

“youhaveacuriousideatosleepintheopen,donroberto,”hesaidstandingthereinthedark,muffledinhisblanketcape,hiscarbineslungoverhisshoulder.

“iamaccustomedtoit.goodnight.”

“sinceyouareaccustomedtoit.”

“whenareyourelieved?”

“atfour.”

“thereismuchcoldbetweennowandthen.”

“iamaccustomedtoit,”fernandosaid.

“since,then,youareaccustomedtoit——”robertjordansaidpolitely.

“yes,”fernandoagreed.“nowimustgetupthere.goodnight,donroberto.”

“goodnight,fernando.”

thenhehadmadeapillowofthethingshetookoffandgottenintotherobeandthenlainandwaited,feelingthespringoftheboughsundertheflannelly,featheredlightnessoftherobewarmth,watchingthemouthofthecaveacrossthesnow;feelinghisheartbeatashewaited.

thenightwasclearandhisheadfeltasclearandcoldastheair.hesmelledtheodorofthepineboughsunderhim,thepineysmellofthecrushedneedlesandthesharperodoroftheresinoussapfromthecutlimbs.pilar,hethought.pilarandthesmellofdeath.thisisthesmellilove.thisandfresh-cutclover,thecrushedsageasyourideaftercattle,wood-smokeandtheburningleavesofautumn.thatmustbetheodorofnostalgia,thesmellofthesmokefromthepilesofrakedleavesburninginthestreetsinthefallinmissoula.whichwouldyourathersmell?sweetgrasstheindiansusedintheirbaskets?smokedleather?theodorofthegroundinthespringafterrain?thesmelloftheseaasyouwalkthroughthegorseonaheadlandingalicia?orthewindfromthelandasyoucomeintowardcubainthedark?thatwastheodorofthecactusflowers,mimosaandthesea-grapeshrubs.orwouldyourathersmellfryingbaconinthemorningwhenyouarehungry?orcoffeeinthemorning?orajonathanappleasyoubitintoit?oracidermillinthegrinding,orbreadfreshfromtheoven?youmustbehungry,hethought,andhelayonhissideandwatchedtheentranceofthecaveinthelightthatthestarsreflectedfromthesnow.

someonecameoutfromundertheblanketandhecouldseewhoeveritwasstandingbythebreakintherockthatmadetheentrance.thenheheardaslitheringsoundinthesnowandthenwhoeveritwasduckeddownandwentbackin.

isupposeshewon’tcomeuntiltheyareallasleep,hethought.itisawasteoftime.thenightishalfgone.oh,maria.comenowquickly,maria,forthereislittletime.heheardthesoftsoundofsnowfallingfromabranchontothesnowontheground.alittlewindwasrising.hefeltitonhisface.suddenlyhefeltapanicthatshemightnotcome.thewindrisingnowremindedhimhowsoonitwouldbemorning.moresnowfellfromthebranchesasheheardthewindnowmovingthepinetops.

comenow,maria.pleasecomeherenowquickly,hethought.oh,comeherenow.donotwait.thereisnoimportanceanymoretoyourwaitinguntiltheyareasleep.

thenhesawhercomingoutfromundertheblanketthatcoveredthecavemouth.shestoodthereamomentandheknewitwasshebuthecouldnotseewhatshewasdoing.hewhistledalowwhistleandshewasstillatthecavemouthdoingsomethinginthedarknessoftherockshadow.thenshecamerunning,carryingsomethinginherhandsandhesawherrunninglong-edthroughthesnow.thenshewaskneelingbytherobe,herheadpushedhardagainsthim,slappingsnowfromherfeet.shekissedhimandhandedhimherbundle.

“putitwiththypillow,”shesaid.“itooktheseofftheretosavetime.”

“youcamebarefootthroughthesnow?”

“yes,”shesaid,“andwearingonlymyweddingshirt.”

heheldhercloseandtightinhisarmsandsherubbedherheadagainsthischin.

“avoidthefeet,”shesaid.“theyareverycold,roberto.”

“putthemhereandwarmthem.”

“nay,”shesaid.“theywillwarmquickly.butsayquicklynowthatyouloveme.”

“ilovethee.”

“good.good.good.”

“ilovethee,littlerabbit.”

“doyoulovemyweddingshirt?”

“itisthesameoneasalways.”

“yes.aslastnight.itismyweddingshirt.”

“putthyfeethere.”

“nay,thatwouldbeabusive.theywillwarmofthemselves.theyarewarmtome.itisonlythatthesnowhasmadethemcoldtowardthee.sayitagain.”