Chapter Nine, Part Two

They had a picnic lunch on a sunny rock near a stone hut that had once belonged to a goat herder. Far below was the town of Estrella, and Robert told Sophie a few facts about it while she tossed crumbs from her sandwich to a chipmunk.

"Tell me about the Nativists," she said. "The ones I saw selling jewelry."

"I don't know if those were actual Nativists," Robert said. "Nativists tend to be political. I think those ladies were just ordinary Pueblo Indians."

Sophie gave a little shrug. Semantics were of only marginal interest to her. "They were selling silver necklaces with blue stones."

"Turquoise," Robert told her. "It's a very typical style for this area. Would you like some? A small bracelet might be nice."

The girl frowned at her wrist and considered. "I might lose it in a barn or something."

"Well, think about it. We'll be going back down to Estrella in a couple days, and if you see something you like and the price isn't unreasonable, you can have it."

Sophie considered, toying with the wrapper from her sandwich. In the silence that followed, Robert finished his lunch and began gathering their trash. "Are you finished? Would you like to see the quarry now?"

"I guess."

They mounted their horses and continued down the path. Half an hour later, they arrived at the abandoned quarry with its rusting pulleys and steam equipment lying about like toys scattered by a frustrated child. Father and daughter both found the ruins fascinating, although for different reasons. While Robert tried to puzzle out how the ancient equipment worked, Sophie speculated on the men who used it; what their lives were like, and how so many useful tools came to be left on the mountainside.

"It was wasteful to leave it up here to rust," she said.

"People thought differently in those days," Robert explained. "When oil was cheap, it was less expensive to make new equipment in a factory and have it shipped across the country on a train or truck, than it would have been to bring it off the mountain."

Sophie considered, not disbelieving, but skeptical. "I don't see how it could be cheaper to throw it all away. A few good wagons and mule teams could bring all this down in no time."

"They wouldn't have used mules. They transported everything in diesel trucks." When he saw this information didn't quite sink in, he added, "People didn't use horses and mules for much of anything. People had their own cars so they could drive everywhere."

"It must've been very noisy. And not much fun." Sophie patted Bandera's neck.

"I don't think they minded the noise," Robert said, turning his horse so they could go back the way they had come. "They had lived with it all their lives, you know."

"How long ago was all that? Is there anyone alive who remembers?"

Robert frowned. "Amalia might remember a little. I think her family had a car for a while, when she was a girl. You should ask her."

They arrived back at the school in mid-afternoon, and although Sophie could have cheerfully headed off on another trail, Robert insisted she dismount and curry her horse. "We should work on your Spanish," he said. "It's been a few days."

Sophie sighed and rolled her eyes. "I already know Spanish. Yegua, silla, brinda, riendas..."

"You need to know more than just horse terms, dear."

After they had turned their horses out into the paddock, they went to the kitchen garden, where Robert taught her the names of herbs and flowers. She was practicing using her new vocabulary in sentences, when Amalia stepped outside.

"Me gusta el albahaca—"

"La albahaca," Robert corrected her.

"Me gusta la albahaca pero no el cilantro."

"I'm glad to hear that," Amalia said, having overheard the lesson. "I was going to make pesto tonight. Have you ever had pasta with pesto?"

Sophie started to shake her head, then glanced at Robert for confirmation.

"She's had Italian food," Robert said, "But unless she's been holding out on me, I think she's only had spaghetti."

"Sabine made spaghetti sometimes," Sophie confirmed. "She and Eli are the owners of Northwind farm."

"Meals were part of the arrangement for anyone living on the property," Robert reminded Amalia. They're land-rich but cash-poor up there, and since the cottages were adequate and the food was good..."

"Diana wrote a little about that in her letters," Amalia said. She turned her attention to Sophie. "It must've been like living with a big family, everyone knowing everyone else."

The girl nodded. "We did everything together."

"Have you written to any of your friends since you've been gone?"

Sophie looked away guiltily.

"I helped her start a letter," Robert said, "but I don't think she's done much with it since."

"Everything's too interesting," Sophie explained. "There's too much to say."

Amalia nodded in understanding. "Why don't you come inside and let me see what you've done so far. Your father is a good letter-writer, but he mainly writes business letters. I might be able to help you write a good friend letter." As they were going inside, Amalia called over her shoulder, "Why don't you pick me some basil for that pesto, Robert?"

With a smile of amusement at having been tasked with a domestic chore, Robert got to work.