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Show Moon - 52 Still later that same day, when the moon was a pale wedge in the purple dusk, he kissed me. On later nights, he kissed me even down there, not like a chore but like a delight, and he let me teach him what I'd learned from Mark. He wasn't afraid to be excited and to care about what happened to him. He was kind, eager, as generous with his heart as an unspoiled child. We bought an old Ford pickup, explored the West, and finally bought a little farm near Bend, Oregon. This farm is in the sight of the Three Sisters mountains that hang above the clouds like cones of frozen breath. If you don't know what you're doing, it's dangerous to be out among them, for there are avalanches, rockfalls, sudden sweeps of cold air. I love these mountains. Theirs is a kind of beauty you know in advance is going to hurt you. You need to know what to do when you go into their world, like carry a sweater and a parka even in the summer. The mountains give us all the beauty a person ever needs. In the face of little money, cold winters, rocky soil, Josh kept on being kind, and I could believe. After three years, Mother, I married him. James and his new wife Kate came to our wedding. They had just found out he had cancer but were in the optimistic stage of thinking they'd caught it in time. James pulled a great heartiness out from his tired body, and he praised the view of the Three Sisters, though I doubt he could actually see them. Not long after that, I visited Kate and James, and then James died. Josh and I can do as we please now that we have the rhythm of the garden, Josh's steady work, my teaching, no one else to answer to. We can be grownups, children, anything. I love having a garden. I love seeing the mountains in the morning. I love watching Windfall gallop and leap in the |