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.”“The motorboats will be faster and they’ll have better control,” he said, noticing the way the wind whipped the color into her cheeks.An uneasy feeling nagged at the corner of her mind.“What about the sleeping goddess?” she asked.“How will she feel when the motorboats come ripping through here?”He studied her face, counting the freckles the sun had dusted across her nose.“Who?” he asked at last.“She lives in the reeds at the bottom of the lake.That’s why we paddled gently.”The full intensity of her liquid dark eyes caught him, and he felt his mind reeling.“Are you making this up?”“No, you can ask the old man in my boat.” Frowning slightly, she laid her hand on his.“I like these people.I want them to get their boats and their gill nets, but.but.”“But you think the sleeping goddess or the sun god might object?”She shook her head.“I’m serious.I’ve heard stories of what happened in Alaska to the salmon.The canneries came in and subsidized the fishermen.They abandoned their trawlers and went for floating factories.When the waters were fished out, the Department of Fish and Game had to shorten the season.One year it was twenty-four hours.Can you imagine how that would affect their lives?”“Catherine,” he said, leaning forward.“This is Lake Cordillera.Those were salmon.These are fresh-water trout.”“I know,” she said quickly.“But look how balanced their lives are, these people.They have a surplus of fish, yes, but they trade them for what they need.They live in harmony with nature, like we do in Palomar.They have plenty to eat, like we do in the village.But their men don’t go off for weeks at a time like the men in Palomar do.”He stood slowly and looked out across the choppy water.“Are you telling me you don’t think they should get the loan?”“No, of course not.It’s your decision.”He shook his head.“It’s Duran’s decision.We’re here to gather facts and give him our opinion.’’She stood and brushed the crumbs off her pants.“Sometimes the price of a loan is too high.”The men pushed the balsas back into the water for the return trip.Catherine rolled her pants up and waded into the water.In the boat she trailed her hand in the water as the paddles dipped silently in and out.She felt a sinking sensation in her heart.She didn’t envy Duran if he decided to turn them down.Maybe he would or maybe he’d follow his inclination and give it to them.She looked over her shoulder across the blue-green water at Josh in the boat behind her.Even from that distance she could see his brow was furrowed and he was thinking it over.Maybe the villagers would be able to maintain a balance between efficient fishing and overfishing even with motorboats.But she was worried.Was this what it was like to take an uncomfortable, unpopular stand? Is this what bankers did every day?Back on the island the children were just leaving the schoolhouse.Miguel’s son waved to them mid shyly invited them to come with him to visit his uncle, who was a boat builder.The boy was clutching the toy boat he had been working on the night before.Josh smiled and Catherine said they’d be happy to meet the boat builder.“I think I know what your recommendation will be,” Josh said as they followed the boy along the path to his uncle’s.Feeling a twinge of guilt, she answered, “Don’t listen to me.I don’t know anything about making loans or fishing for that matter.Forget what I said.”“I can’t.What’s happened to the woman who made up her mind before she even got here?” He took her hand and they walked side by side down the path lined with reeds.“She’s here.But she’s confused.I want what’s best for the people and what’s best for you.”“But you’re not sure what that is and neither am I,” he confessed.She glanced up at him.“If this is what it’s like to be a banker, then I feel sorry for you.”He pulled her close, his hip hard and solid against hers.“Don’t.Sometimes banking has unexpected rewards.Sometimes someone comes to my office by mistake.”“Like me?” she asked.“That was no mistake.”“And asks for something impossible,” he continued.“Like a loan to buy a truck?”“And I say no.”“But you feel bad about it.”He nodded and smoothed her hair with his hand.“So you change your mind.” She turned and pressed her palms against his.“Josh, I don’t want to let you down.”The emotion in her voice surprised him.He motioned the boy to go on ahead and linked his arms loosely around her waist.“You’re not going to let me down.What’s happened to you? I’ll never forget your telling me all you wanted was some small change and you asked me what I had to lose.”“That was before I knew you, before I realized what you had to lose.Before I realized how much your job means to you.”“No more than yours means to you.” He slid his hands up her arms until he held her by her shoulders.Her braid had come undone and the loose tendrils framed her face and softened her earnest expression.“This is just one of my jobs.The farm in Palomar is just one of the many farms I’m going to work and the Mamara are just one tribe of Indians I’m going to help.It’s not the same for you.”He watched, fascinated, while her cheeks turned pink as she grew more animated.“You’re moving up and I’m moving sideways,” she explained.The sun shone on her dark hair as the smell of reeds drying in the sun at the boat builder’s house wafted their way.The boy had long ago disappeared down the path, and they were alone, hidden from view by the tall grasses.“Then how do you think our paths crossed?” he asked, tucking a dark wisp of hair behind her ear.“I don’t know,” she whispered.“But I’m glad they did.”He leaned forward and captured her face between his hands.He felt the warmth of her face, watched her take his hand in hers and kiss his broad palm.The touch of her lips made him want to wrap her in his arms and disappear behind the reeds to the soft grass by the shore.The thought of Catherine and him lying in the warm afternoon sun made the heat rise up the back of his neck.Above the whisper of the wind in the reeds came the sound of a man wielding a machete in the clearing beyond, reminding Josh of his obligations to the fishermen of the village, to Duran and to the bank.This was a business trip.There were decisions to be made and people to see.The uncle, for one.Without speaking Josh took Catherine’s hand and they walked toward the house of the boat builder.The uncle was there, his machete on the ground.His sun-browned face broke into a smile at the sight of the visitors.Proudly he showed them how he formed the sides and then the heart of the boat with the materials at hand.Then he turned his attention to the small toy boat his nephew had brought and they all walked down to the water to try it out.Catherine knelt on the wooden pier to watch the boat float in the clear, shallow water.It was as carefully made as the ones they had ridden in that morning.She caught Josh’s eye and she wondered if he feared what she did.That if the village had motorboats, this craft might be lost.Not just this craft, but a whole way of life.Slowly they made their way back to Miguel’s house where his wife was spinning wool from their llama into yarn.“My mother spun her own yarn,” Catherine said.“I never had a store-bought sweater until I grew up.She taught me to spin, too.” She nodded to Miguel’s wife, and she and Josh wandered down to the shore where the boats were drying in the sun.“How can you say they left you nothing?” Josh asked, sitting on the beach, looking at her thoughtfully.“Besides your memories, they gave you skills, like weaving and cooking and plowing.”She squinted at the choppy waves with the sun dancing on than.“Everything but bargaining,” she acknowledged with a half smile
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