Before the baby, I’d been afraid that things would change between me and Luca, that maybe he would be like some men and not want me until it was time for the next baby. That would have been like death to me. But I was wrong. Our nights were different only in that somehow, they were more intimate. There was a kind of communion now that had not been there before, for all our closeness. Now there was truly a cord that bound us, a tangible one that would continue to exist long after we were gone. And I loved him so, though I never said it, loved him with a conviction that I would never have thought possible. Luca never told me he loved me either, but I never felt the lack. How could I, when his every touch, his every glance told me so in a way more telling than words. He loved me and more than that, I felt loved, and in my ignorance, I hoped that that would protect us. But I know now that there was something dark moving toward us even then, something older than Luca’s love, and something that was far more familiar to me. How did I know this? Because the light always attracts the dark. That’s the way of it.
There was no herald. I simply walked into McAllister’s Dry Goods Store one morning and there was Aaron stocking shelves. He grinned at me and said, “Hey, Darcy. Long time, no see.”
My eyes did not widen in surprise. My face was too disciplined for that, trained from years of forced impassivity. I just walked past him stiffly to the cash register.
Later, I would marvel that Luca had not been with us that day. He almost always was. Sometimes we went to McAllister’s because we needed something. More often, just for the walk. But always together, except for today. Luca’s bad leg was aching, and he hadn’t felt like walking.
“Did you come to buy something, Darcy, or just to stare at my hardware?” It was Mr. McAllister. He’d always been gruff with me but never mean.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was just kind of surprised to see Aaron here. He’s been away so long.”
He looked over my shoulder to make sure nobody was about. We could hear Aaron across the store stacking lumber. “He’s back all right. Got himself dishonorably discharged from the service. Some trouble over a girl. Broke her arm or something.”
“Why’d you hire him?”
The old man looked at me like I was the stupidest person on earth. “Isn’t that plain as a turd in a punch bowl? He came in wanting a job and I don’t want to lose my store. Know what I mean?”
“Sure, but—”
“Come on now, girl. You’ve lived here all your life. You can’t be thinking it’s coincidence that every time somebody has words with Aaron, his house catches fire.”
“You mean—”
“It ain’t lightning. Quiet—”
Aaron walked up to the counter brushing sawdust off his clothes. “And who’s this pretty little thing,” he asked, bending down to Rennie.
Rennie gave him a big smile and reached her arms up to be lifted. Nearly three years old now, she was a friendly child without discrimination who liked to be held by everybody from Mr. McAllister to the postman.
Aaron extended his arms too, but before he could touch her, I jerked her little arm and snapped her back to my side. She started to cry. I’d never been rough like that with her before.
“Don’t cry,” Aaron said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her around to face him. “Come on and smile for your uncle Aaron.”
I felt a wretching sensation and thought I might vomit, but I kept still. I was afraid of him now. Now, I had so much, so very much to lose. “We’ve got to go,” I finally managed to say, and walked past him and out of the store.
“So long there, Darcy,” he called after me. “Be seeing you around…I promise.”
Luca knew as soon as I came home that something was wrong. I told him about Aaron being back from the service. He knew I hated Aaron, but he never knew why. Luca thought I hated him because of the old feud between the reverend and Jewel. I would never tell him the truth. Luca was cursed with the heroic temperament, something I saw as a character flaw that experience had taught me often led to disaster. For his part, he had never forgotten the fight he’d had with Aaron at the Harvest Moon Dance a hundred years before in school.
“I’m never going to McAllister’s again,” I said, thinking to appease him. But it just made it worse.
“You certainly will go there!” He turned on me. “And so will I. We’ve been going there for years and I’ll be damned if I’m going to change my life to avoid Aaron Hamilton.”
Luca was as good as his word. The very next day, he insisted we all
