Rio Grande Wedding by Ruth Wind Page B

you.”
    â€œNo,” she said. “I embarrassed myself, that’s all, and I’d like a little time to recover my dignity.”
    He frowned a little, but leaning on the table, pulled himself to a standing position. Molly moved close automatically to offer her shoulder, and he looped his long arm around her, using the wall for additional support.
    And though they’d done this several times, Molly found herself a little lost in the sensations tonight. She was aware of his lean hip close to her side, of his wrist against her shoulder, and more than anything, the scent of him, his skin and hair and the warm places.
    â€œDo you want to go to your room, or would you like to watch television or something, maybe?”
    â€œI would like television.” His voice didn’t show nearly as much strain as it had earlier, and she was taking far less of his weight than she had this morning. He must be prodigiously healthy.
    Then she realized he’d walked under his own power to the back door earlier, and she raised her head. “You didn’t really need my help this time, did you?”
    A wicked glint sparked in the laughing eyes. “Si, señora. I feel so weak.”
    They’d reached the living room, and she slid away. “You must think I’m very silly.”
    He laughed, and caught her collar before she could quite get away. “No. I think you are kind.” The smile faded a little as he took her hair, now braided tightly, into his hand. “And I did not mean to hurt you when I said you were lonely.”
    Every word, made oddly musical in his accent, fell like rain on her dry soul. “It’s all right.” She took a breath. “It’s probably true. Lucky for you, huh?”
    He let her braid fall. “Yes. Lucky me.”

Chapter 6
    M olly illustrated the use of the remote control, and aware of an odd, pleased sense of happiness, went back to the kitchen, mouthing dotada under her breath, putting her tongue on her teeth in imitation of him, then tried the other words. Especially aislado. Great word.
    Running the sink full of hot sudsy water, she mused for the millionth time on the fact that, even with all the opportunities around her, she still did not speak very much Spanish. There were four all-Spanish radio stations and two television stations in the area. At least half the people in the valley spoke Spanish—albeit a colonial version that. had some inconsistencies—at home and within the community, to each other. Everyone was expected to know the most basic things.
    It seemed, with so much opportunity, almost absurd that they weren’t all bilingual.
    The phone rang as she was drying her hands. Expecting Lynette, Molly answered cheerfully.
    â€œOh, good,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “You sound a lot better.”
    It was Cathy, the nursing supervisor at the small hospital where Molly worked. Busted. “I am, thanks. It wasn’t that bad to start with. I just didn’t think I ought to be breathing all over the patients with a virus.”
    â€œWell, guess what, doll? I need you. Two more nurses called off tonight, and we’re getting slammed. Two moms in labor, a bar fight and two new cases of pneumonia from this damned flu. If you come in tonight, I can probably cover most of tomorrow.”
    Molly glanced toward Alejandro, torn. But she really couldn’t say no. “Sure,” she said. “I’d like to have the morning off to get some sleep, but I can work the rest of my normal shift in the afternoon.”
    â€œThanks, kid. You might be able to get out of here after midnight sometime.”
    â€œSee you in a little bit, then.”
    Molly went to the living room. “The hospital called,” she said. “I have to go to work tonight. Will you be okay?”
    â€œSure.” He held up the remote control. “Movies. TV.” Spread his hands, a faint smile on his face.