I bring in one saddlebag, and then the other, placing them on the counter. The older man from the back office comes to take the bags. He carries them to his desk and closes the inner office door so I can no longer see him.
“How did you get those blue eyes?” the young man says.
I’d been so focused on the boss that I’d forgotten the younger man guarding me. “What?”
“We see eyes like yours in Kashmir.”
In Jaipur I’d often been asked about my blue eyes. People thought I might be Anglo-Indian (a group that fell out of favor once the British left the country). Or perhaps I wasn’t Indian at all? Might I be Parsi, or Afghani? But I’m not about to get into a conversation with this man about my heritage or tell him that blue eyes have been common in my family for generations. I simply say, “I’m not Kashmiri.”
Now he puts his elbows on the counter, leaning forward with a sly smile on his face. “You shepherds never consider yourselves Kashmiri or Punjabi or Rajasthani, do you? It’s your tribe that matters. But I’ve never seen another tribal member with blue eyes.” He cocks his head, considering me seriously. Then he says something to me in a dialect that I don’t understand.
The fine hairs on my arms rise. He’s trying to suss out where I’m really from. I can’t respond convincingly in dialect. The risk I’m already taking becomes dangerous if I’m exposed. My best bet is to act embarrassed.
I cast my eyes downward, draw my shawl tighter around my neck. “Please,” I say, “I am married.”
He turns playful once again. “And your husband lets you do a man’s job?”
I think about Vinay, his body splayed on the ground. “Only because he’s injured. Badly.”
His smile is coy. “You must be needing comfort in that case. And I—”
The inner door swings open and the older man appears. The flimsy bracelet on his wrist is made of colored thread—one strand red, the other gold colored. It’s likely that a sister made the amulet for him so he would protect her for the remainder of her life. But when he drops the empty saddlebags onto the scarred wooden surface with a scowl on his face, I realize I can’t count on the softness he might show his sister. “You’re missing two,” he says.
I raise my chin in question.
“There are only one hundred and fifty-four bars. There should be a hundred fifty-six.”
I can feel the sweat begin to gather on my upper lip. But I keep my voice firm. “We took two as payment.”
“Kya? You took payment in gold?” He straightens, frowns. “That wasn’t the bargain.”
I look at the younger man, open my blue eyes wider, appeal to his softer approach. “It’s a dangerous route. My husband fell. Broke his back. We needed a hospital. That’s why we’re late. We had no money. We used the gold to pay our bill.”
Now the older man slams his hand on the counter, making me jump. “That is not a decision you get to make.” Spit flies out of his mouth. “What am I to tell the next courier?”
I sense the fear behind his anger. I level a gaze at him. “Tell him the Shimla authorities have heard rumors about the gold running at the edge of town. Tell him two bars is fair payment for carrying gold along the route that the police are watching.”
We lock eyes. I’m out of breath and feel as if I’m about to faint.
I turn when I hear a noise behind me. It’s the woman from the courtyard who was laying bricks. She says to the men behind the counter, “I’m out of clay. What do you want me to do?”
I choose this moment to grab the empty saddlebags, run to the door and jump on Chandra. In seconds, we are galloping down the winding path through the forest. I hear shouts behind me, but there were no vehicles in the yard, so I know they have no way to follow us as quickly as Chandra and I can travel.
In my ears I hear the rush of wind, the thrum of Chandra’s hooves pounding the earth and my own blood coursing through my veins. Would they really harm me for two bars of gold when they have most of the treasure in their possession? I hope not, but I can’t be sure. What I do know is that I need to get as far away as I can as quickly as I can.
I’ve traveled less than a mile when I realize Jay’s horse is riding beside mine. I slow Chandra to a canter. Only when I turn to look at Jay do I realize he must have followed me out here to make sure I’d be safe. My eyes fill. Slowly, I let the terror of the last hour drain from my body the way Madho Singh allows his feathers to settle onto his back after he realizes the loud noise that terrified him is no more.
15
NIMMI
Shimla
I run my hands over the smooth porcelain of the bathtub in Lakshmi’s guest bathroom. I’m in the bath with Rekha and Chullu. Rekha is fine on her own, but I have to hold on to Chullu with one hand while I soap him down with the other. There are two spouts. Every now and then, I turn the one on the left, as Lakshmi taught me, and more hot water magically appears! I’m used to the rice-bran-and-yak-fat soap our tribe makes, but Lakshmi’s soap is heavenly—it makes so many suds when mixed with water! And the scent! I feel as if I’m in the meadow collecting flowers.
When Chullu tries to put the bar of lavender soap in his mouth, I tease it out of his hands.
Rekha slaps her hands on the surface of the water to see how high she can make it jump.
Always before, when I came to Lakshmi’s house, I was so obsessed with Malik’s letters that I didn’t notice anything else. Now I realize every detail of her home has a purpose and a simple beauty. I see no point in comparing this house with my own simple lodging, but I can’t help feeling embarrassed, imagining what Malik must think when he visits me at my home. I’m thankful that he’s been there only at night, when it’s hard to see the cracks between the wooden planks of the walls.
I was watering the plants in the Healing Garden when Lakshmi arrived at the hospital this afternoon, after she’d delivered the gold to Canara. My children were nearby, playing in the dirt. No one else would have guessed she’d been up half the night removing gold bars from sheep. She had bathed and dressed in a sari to work her shift at the afternoon clinic, her hair in a neat bun at the back of her neck. She looked, as usual, alert.
“The whole flock has to be sheared tonight,” she said quietly. “The groundskeeper told Jay that the sheep have almost grazed the lower pasture clean. They need to be moved tomorrow. And we can’t have people speculating about their half-shorn fleece.”
I was wondering how I’d manage by myself when Lakshmi said, “Come to our house tonight. We’ll go together.”
My patal could cut cleanly and quickly, but it wasn’t meant for shearing sheep. The blade was too sharp and could nick their skin. I’d sheared sheep in the past, with my tribe, but it was a group activity, with everybody helping. I wasn’t sure that Lakshmi and I could do it by ourselves.
“Will Dr. Kumar help us, Ji?”
Lakshmi nodded. “He has to. Otherwise we’ll never get it done.” She gave me a reassuring smile, but I saw the worry in her eyes. “Do you think you can find someone to move the flock?”
That would be the easy part. I nodded. I wanted to ask the question that had been hovering on my lips for the past two days. Lakshmi had separated me from the second man I’d ever loved (the mountains had taken the first), and it had caused me so much pain. I finally asked her, “Why are you helping me?”
She looked surprised, as if she thought I should have known the answer. “You’re part of Malik’s life, Nimmi, and so you are a part of mine.” Then she turned to leave but stopped and spoke to me with her back turned. “Before I met Dr. Jay, Malik and my sister, Radha, were my only family, and both came late into my life. You’ve met Malik. Someday you’ll meet Radha and you’ll see how special she is. I would do almost anything—and have done what I can—to keep both of them safe and happy.” Finally, she turned to look at me, her gaze direct and unflinching. “As happy and safe as Malik wants to make sure you and the children are.”