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Page 93
"Believes what?" Mariah began scraping the dishes the way René had shown her.
"I will tell you later, when we work on the laundry. That way, no one should interrupt us."

A stream ran in the woods behind the compound, a lovely, clear rivulet gurgling over smooth rocks that must have begun in the pine-covered mountains just beyond. René had shown it to Mariah the day before. On her shoulders was a sleek wooden contraption shaped like half a peanut shell. It helped her balance a bucket at both ends.
In the distance, she heard the clatter of horses' hoofs and shouts of "good-bye." The lunch guests were on their way, and not a moment too soon.
Mariah lugged the heavy buckets back to the kitchen and put them down. There, using rags as potholders, she gingerly removed one steaming cauldron of water from the fire and dumped some of the contents into a small basin near where the dishes were stacked. She then poured more of the water she'd hauled into the cauldron and put it back on the fire.
Not bad, she thought, for a woman whose idea of domestic pursuits had previously consisted of making her bed. Usually. When she wasn't staying in a hotel.
Oh, how she missed air conditioning, though. This room, with its blazing fire and few windows, was unbearably close in the summer heat and humidity. She'd even have given a lot for an electric fan to keep the air movingif there'd been electricity.
She washed the wooden lunch dishes in the basin. As she began to dry them with soft, ragged towels René came in and started to help. They worked together for some time in a silence that seemed almost companionable to Mariah. Except that she was eager to hear what René had to say about Thorn's past. Why couldn't he begin now?
She understood the delay a short while later when Thorn entered the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose when she noticed the dead rabbit dangling from his hand.

 
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