Page 90 of In a Far-Off Land
Oscar found a can of tuna in the cupboard. “How long have you been in love with her?” he asked, working an opener around the can.
Max stared at the coffee. “You really are a pain in the backside, you know that?”
Oscar set the can on the floor. Julia jumped down to investigate, and Max shook his head as if he had expected as much.
“Well?”
Max closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. “My heart can’t take it again.”
“Take what?” Oscar felt something new, something he didn’t recognize. Pity, probably. Compassion... maybe.
“Someone who doesn’t love me back.”
Oscar didn’t believe that she didn’t love him back. He’d seen Minerva Sinclaire look at Max. Of course, lots of women looked at Max like that, but if there was a chance for them... Lupita was right. Max needed to know all of it.
Oscar switched into Spanish. News like this should be heard in your mother tongue. “Brother, there’s something I have to tell you.”
CHAPTER 11
Odessa, South Dakota
PAPA
Ephraim propped the shovel against the Ford and leaned heavily next to it, breathing hard. The snow was wet and heavy for February. He caught sight of Penny watching him through the window and waved, mustering up a smile. She waved back, frowning.
He’d have to hurry if he wanted to make it into town on time.
The Ford took a few cranks, but the engine finally coughed and rumbled. The snow started falling in earnest—fat, wet flakes that made a plop as they hit the windshield. He steered around frozen ruts to the main road and increased his speed.
He was a mile from town when the old Ford gave up the ghost.
He hauled himself out into the cold and cranked. The cylinders didn’t even fire. He cranked again. Nothing. Ephraim pulled the sodden wool mitten from his hand and fished the pocket watch out from under his overcoat. Almost four o’clock.
He’d have to walk home, get the tractor, and haul the Ford to the barn, where he could work on her. Or he could trudge another mile through the wet snow to the bus station and arrive soaking wet and cold, late for the eastbound bus.
There was nothing for it. He pulled his hat low and started walking.
MINA
Odessa looked different than I remembered.
Smaller, grayer. The streets were empty except for a few old-model Fords parked in front of the feed store, the sky a drab blanket over boarded-up storefronts. Had Odessa changed, or was it me?
My stomach clenched like a fist as the bus lurched to a stop. I took a shaky breath and stood. My knees wobbled as I pulled my valise from the rack over the seat, then walked to the front of the bus.
“Take care, young lady.” The driver gave me a cheery wave. I tried to smile but failed, my mouth trembling. We’d been together since Ogden. I didn’t even know his name but felt like I was saying goodbye to my only friend in the world. I guess that goes to show how pathetic I really was.
I stepped off the bus and my heels sank into the snow. Wind bit at my jacket and swirled around my stocking-clad legs. The door shut behind me with a thump, the engine roared, and the bus pulled away, leaving me in a cloud of gasoline fumes and doubt.
I’d left home sure of myself and what I was doing. I was coming home sure of nothing... with nothing. A terrific wave of despair washed over me. Despair and regret and utter weariness.
Papa had every right to turn me away.
What if he did? I had nowhere else to go. The snow soaked my hair, and cold droplets ran under my collar and down my back.
Don’t be a sap, Minnie. You can’t stand here in the snow all day. The walk to the farm was long, but there was nothing for it. I started along the street, my feet sinking into the cold snow.
And that’s when I saw him. A long way off, so for a minute I thought it was wishful thinking. Then I heard his voice—muffled by the snow but familiar. So familiar it made my breath stop. The way he stood, the slouched hat.
