The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (top e book reader txt) 📕

rough, uneven back roads found on the island’s southeast coast where she lived, but a new vehicle would be devoid of the memories carried in the patched seats and scratched paint of her current car.

She inserted the key into the ignition, but before she turned it, she patted the dashboard superstitiously as she’d recently begun to do whenever it had been left untended for any notable length of time. The tension in her face dissipated when the engine turned over. She eased out slowly from her parking space and drove to the lot exit. Instead of joining the flow of traffic heading south on Highway 30, she turned north, then followed the road along the coast until it joined Highway 340, eventually crossing the narrow isthmus connecting Maui’s two sides.

From here, she chose the inland road that allowed her to avoid the unpredictable, bumper-to-bumper tourist traffic along the legendary Hana Highway. The roads she followed had no coastal views, but she loved driving through the island’s lush interior landscape, where every possible shade of green could be discerned among the trees and foliage. This route option was exactly why her Jeep was so necessary—the paved road devolved at the far end into a rough track that was unlikely to be tolerated by a fancy sports car.

By the time she pulled into the driveway of her small house near the village of Nu‘u, not far from Hana, she was ready for something to eat. She cut the engine, and the silence was filled almost immediately with the sound of mournful howling. The deep, resonant sound emanated from the property next door, and was soon followed by the noise of galloping feet. An enormous gray dog was making a beeline for the Jeep, hurtling through the opening of a pathway in the thick forest that began at the edge of Kali’s overgrown lawn. She slipped from her seat to the ground, and was met by the dog, who threw himself onto the grass at her feet in a frenzy of unfiltered joy.

Then Kali heard a series of heavy footfalls. As she knelt to rub the dog’s belly, a tall, muscled man appeared on the same pathway at the edge of the lawn. He was also heading for the Jeep, but unlike the dog, he was moving in a steady, athletic lope, his long blond hair caught up in an untidy ponytail that swung against his shoulders as he ran. Cheeks creased in a wide smile, he waved.

“Welcome home!” he called, slowing his pace as he drew near. He gestured to the dog. “Hilo missed you. He seemed to think you might never come back.”

She smiled in return.

“Thanks for watching him, Elvar.” She braced herself as the 130-pound animal—a cross between a Weimaraner and a Great Dane—climbed to his feet, leaning his considerable weight against her thigh. His long tail thumped against her leg. She stroked his head affectionately as she turned to Elvar. “I don’t know why he has to be so dramatic about everything, but I hope you know how much I appreciate the babysitting.”

“It’s no problem. He’s good company. He’s been supervising me while I repair my forge.”

She noticed the faint “vee” sound when he said the word forge; a subtle reminder that Icelandic was his native language, though his English was nearly flawless.

“Did something happen?” she asked, curious. Elvar Ellinsson was a highly regarded bladesmith, and she knew that forge trouble would pose a significant hindrance to his knife-making business.

Elvar looked rueful. “Well, it got knocked over.”

Kali felt her heart sink.

“By a giant dog?”

Elvar threw back his head, laughing. “No, Hilo is completely innocent. It was Birta. She was moving some furniture from the terrace into the storage shed, and she accidentally swung a lounge chair into it. The chair leg caught the edge of the forge just at the right angle and tipped it over.”

Kali felt a mixture of relief and mild horror. Elvar’s older sister, Birta Ellinsdóttir, wasn’t the sort of person who was prone to accidents. Overly sensible, at least in Kali’s opinion, Birta ran a tight ship. The house she and her brother shared was always spotless and tidy. Nothing was out of the way, and a mishap resulting from furniture reorganizing had likely sent her into a tailspin.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Is Birta okay?”

“Oh sure, she’s fine. Berating herself, of course. And annoyed at the mess. But I’ve just finished cleaning it up. I’ll have the forge back up and running in no time.”

“You’re lucky nothing caught on fire.”

“The forge was cold. But it would have been safe. The reason I extended the brick terrace as far as I did is so that the forge and any hot tools would always be resting on a surface impervious to the heat.”

Kali looked up at the sky. The mares’ tails above drifted in wisps through the wide blue expanse, shifted by air currents moving far beyond them. Fixed on the clouds, she felt a profound stillness sweep over her.

“Anyway,” said Elvar, watching her, “I suppose I should get back to work.” He paused almost long enough for her to intervene with an alternative suggestion.

Kali felt it, but hesitated too long, searching for something to say. As the moment passed unfulfilled, Elvar turned and headed for the path leading to his house through the trees and shrubs that separated Kali’s home from his own. He waved, a friendly gesture, uncomplicated.

“Well,” he said, stopping under the trees. “Glad to know you’re home safe and sound.”

Then he was gone, his figure blending into the shadows. Hilo stirred, whimpering softly. Kali reached down, stroking the dog’s head. She exhaled, the sigh laden with regret.

“What’s wrong with me, Hilo?” She looked again toward the spot where Elvar had disappeared. “The least I could have done was invite him in for something cold to drink.” She tugged at one of Hilo’s floppy ears. “I’ll bet he earned it.”

* * *

That night, Kali slept deeply, grateful to be home. She’d slept in her