are unhealthy and bad for your rib bones. You can't work in them, can hardly breathe in them." She studied Graciela's sputtering face. "I know. You hate me."
Graciela kicked a volley of stones into the darkness. "I hope you die! I hope the wolves eat you up! I hope you get sores all over you like Pepe Sanchez!"
Jenny poured the last cup of coffee and grinned. She was a mule skinner, and she could cuss with the best of them. It could be said, in fact, that she was a connoisseur of cussing. Connoisseur was in her pocket dictionary, and she liked the word. Tried to use it when she could. But she doubted Graciela would understand. Nevertheless, Graciela had the makings of a cussing connoisseur herself. She wasn't using actual cusswords, but she was calling down the scourges of kid-dom.Doing pretty damned well, too.
"You finished?" Jenny asked, sipping her coffee.
Graciela sent her a murderous look, then pulled her lacy nightdress over her curls and stood on the end of her blanket, swaying with fatigue. "I'm going to say my prayers now," she said sullenly.
"So say them."
"You're supposed to kneel with me and listen."
Jenny considered. Kneeling to hear a kid's prayer wasn't going to be comfortable, but she couldn't find any harm in it. Rising reluctantly, she walked around the fire and knelt beside Graciela, who glared at the rag on Jenny's head and made a face. She folded her hands together and held them against her chest, then closed her eyes.
"Heavenly Father, please take care of my mama and Aunt Tete and Maria and Cousin Luis and Cousin Chulo and Cousin—"
"God already knows who your cousins are, skip that part and say amen."
"Thank you for all the blessings you have given us. Keep us safe and protect us. Please take care of the horse and please punish…"She opened one eye and looked at Jenny. "What am I supposed to call you?"
She hadn't thought about that. They stared at each other. "For the time being, just call me Jenny."
"Please punish Jenny. You could strike her dead. Amen."
Jenny blinked. "I'm no expert on this, but … are you supposed to pray for someone to be struck dead?"
Graciela didn't answer. She crawled in between the folds of the blanket.
"Someone who's trying to help you and take you to your daddy? And you're asking God to strike me dead? You ungrateful little snot."
Here came the tears again. Jenny rolled her eyes.
"My mama always kissed me good night…"
"Well, I'll be goddamned. First you ask God to kill me dead, now you're hinting I should kiss you good night?" Jenny hated kids, she plain hated them. Kids were strange and contrary and hateful and weepy and more trouble than even she had believed.
"My mama always kissed me good night."
Jenny swore. "If that's what it'll take to shut you up and put you to sleep." She moved up the blanket and placed a quick, gingerly kiss on Graciela's smooth cheek. "What's that pin," she asked when she straightened. "And why are you wearing it on your nightgown?" She had noticed it earlier, pinned to Graciela's bodice, and it looked like a real gold heart suspended from a real gold bar. Jenny had never owned a piece of real gold jewelry in her life.
"It's a locket," Graciela said, closing her fingers over the gold heart. "Inside are pictures of my mama and my daddy. My mama gave it to me."
"You don't need to sound so defensive. I'm not going to steal it, for God's sake."
Irritated, she returned to the fire, wet down her head, and rubbed more of the vinegar of sabadilla into her aching scalp. Fire ate into her skull, and she grimaced. Damn, it hurt. When she opened her eyes, Graciela was staring at her.
"Go to sleep," Jenny snapped. "Stop looking at me." Turning her back, she bound her head in the rag,then stepped to her own blanket. The temperature had dropped, and the blanket felt good around her shoulders. Graciela was going to wish she hadn't put on that skimpy nightdress.
As tired as she was, Jenny didn't fall asleep immediately. She lay with her
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