The Wishing Trees - By John Shors Page 0,38

and Mattie’s possessions into the packs of the Peace Corps volunteers. Ian thanked them, kissed Mattie on the brow, and lifted her up into his arms. “This is just like old times,” he said, trying to smile, wounded by the sight of his little girl in so much pain.

“Old times?” Mattie asked, relieved that they would be continuing on, and holding back her tears.

Ian started to follow the women up the stone steps, careful where he placed his feet. “When you were a wee babe, you’d fall asleep downstairs, sometimes lying on a blanket, sometimes on the couch in your mum’s arms. And I’d carry you upstairs, just like I’m carrying you now.”

“Mommy didn’t carry me up?”

“Oh, sometimes she did. But usually it was me. That way I could steal a few extra kisses on the way up. There’s nothing more beautiful, you know, than kissing a sleeping baby.”

Mattie wiped away her tears, embarrassed to have cried in front of everyone. “Why is that so beautiful?”

“Well, luv, when that baby is your baby, and you’re kissing her, you just sort of feel at peace. No matter how hard your day has been, no matter what disasters happened, you realize that the most important thing in the world is in your arms, held tight, and that’s a powerful thing.”

“And you carried me to bed? Almost every night?”

“I reckon so, Roo. Even when I came home late. Your mum was sweet. She let me do that, because she knew I fancied it.”

Mattie glanced below, realizing that he’d already carried her halfway up the steps. “Don’t drop me, Daddy.”

“Never, luv,” Ian replied, glad that she was no longer crying, but worried because her knee seemed to be swelling. He doubted that she’d be able to walk the next day. They’d have to remain in one place and say good-bye to the women whom Mattie seemed to look up to so much.

THE DAY EVOLVED EXACTLY AS IAN HAD feared. He managed to carry Mattie to the next village, but by the time they arrived, her knee was swollen and achy. Fortunately, she could move her leg without much additional pain, so he doubted she’d broken anything. His guess was that she had badly bruised her kneecap and would need several days of rest before tackling the trail again.

Ian paid for a room at the best hotel in the village, which was really nothing more than a collection of stone homes and two-story buildings that bordered terraced wheat fields. The room was like the others they’d stayed in—sparsely furnished, cold, and inhospitable. Ian pushed the two beds together, combined their sleeping bags, and lay Mattie down. Leslie, Blake, and Tiffany were as helpful as possible. Leslie gently cleaned Mattie’s wound, applied a new bandage, and gave her half an aspirin. On her guitar, Blake played the songs Mattie requested.

Since it was already past noon, Ian knew that the women would have to continue onward if they were to finish their trek on time. He didn’t want them to leave, as he was sure that their departure would sadden Mattie, but he couldn’t ask them to linger.

“You ladies should head out,” he said, standing up from where he’d been sitting next to Mattie. “If you’re going to make it to the next village before dark, you’d best buzz off.”

Tiffany glanced at Mattie. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I feel bad about leaving.”

“No worries,” Ian replied, the taste of antacids dominating his mouth. “You’ve all been grand. Just lovely, really. We’ll be fine. Right, Roo?”

“Right.”

Leslie bent toward Mattie. “Is the aspirin helping?”

“A little. Thank you.”

“I hate to leave you,” Leslie said, straightening Mattie’s pillow, “but if we don’t get going, we’ll never finish our loop. And, you know, we have to get back to our jobs.”

Ian put his hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “Don’t fret about us. We’re lucky to have found you.”

Leslie removed a digital camera from her pack and handed it to Ian. “Can you take a picture of Mattie and us? I’ll e-mail it to you.”

“Lovely,” Ian replied, waiting to aim the camera until the women had gathered around his daughter. He took several photos, aware that Mattie was trying to smile and that her smile was fake. She looked so small compared to the Peace Corps workers. She shouldn’t have been in a dark and dreary room with them in Nepal, but with her friends back home. As Ian handed the camera back to Leslie and told her his e-mail address, he felt

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