It was the hottest day that Peeta could ever recall falling so late in the year. Summer had already passed for heaven's sake. Still, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow as he rounded the barn. Another week of endless chores. It wasn't that he minded working hard, he had always enjoyed striving for things that he loved and valued. The trouble was that as time went on he enjoyed the farm less and less for the sake of itself. He had come out here partially to run from his past but also to realize a dream. But that fantasy had starred a family on his piece of land, not the constant isolation that had been his nearly sole reality over the past 3 years.
He had nearly despaired of ever seeing Haymitch again. Poor old guy, he probably died of illness or Indian attack along the way. He drew a bucket from the well, stripped of his shirt and began washing his face and chest in the cool water. A sense of amazing relief fell over him and he closed his eyes at the sensation. When he opened them he had to blink a few times and shake the water to clear his vision. He couldn't decide if the horses riding towards him were real or a desperate figment of his imagination. The sound of hooves convinced him of the former.
He brought his hand up to shield his eyes and squinted, trying his best to make out the figures. The one on the right wore a large cowboy hat and was hunched over just slightly. That was Haymitch alright. His breath caught in his chest. He couldn't see the face of the second rider but he could make out the shape of a bonnet and it was also obvious that this rider was the smaller of the two. It was a woman. Haymitch had found her, he had brought him back a wife!
Peeta was so awestruck by the thought that he failed to notice his state of undress and simply walked out to meet them in a daze. He needed to speak to them and hear their voices in return to validate their and his existence. Even when they were still at a distance he heard Haymitch call his name in greeting and he returned it with a wave. He ought to have more manners but as they drew near he couldn't help but stare at the woman. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and he wanted a good look at her.
"Well, Peeta boy" Haymtich said with a hearty laugh. "I brought someone fer ya ta meet but I think it might be best if ya finish clean'in up first." It was only then that he remembered that he had been washing before lunch and hurried to throw his shirt back on muttering an apology. It only enhanced the old man's amusement all the more. The bonnet clad visitor remained silent.
Beneath the cover of her hat Katniss stared out at him with wide eyes. He wasn't what she was expecting at all. For one thing he was naked. For another he was young. He was probably just a few years her senior. He was also muscular and handsome. His shoulders were thick and broad and his chest was covered with a sprinkling of blonde hair that darkened a little as it trailed down his defined abs and narrow waist and disappeared into his work trousers. His face had been tanned by the sun but she could tell that he had once been fair and his hair was curly and nearly bleached by the exposure it had likely received throughout the summer.
She began to panic inside. Something was wrong with this man. Something was really wrong. So many men had been killed in the war and so many more badly wounded. A young man who was sound of body and mind was difficult to come by. She noted that he had a slight limp but it did not seem to impair him. A man like this would be in hot pursuit by any number of eligible females. But then she glanced around her. This was not like home. There were much fewer women out west and they had seen only scattered farms over the past few days. She guessed that Haymitch's story could be plausible. That the picture of masculine perfection that stood before her could be in need of a wife and had little choice but to send a friend to fetch one.
She glanced up at the house. It appeared to be well constructed. The barn door was open and she could hear the sound of animals and see bales of hay stacked in rows. The property was as Haymitch had described it. Mr. Mellark had returned after donning a shirt and he was looking up at her expectantly. He did appear eager to greet them. Perhaps she would find a place here. It could be the first good break she had received since the war began.
A spark of hope emboldened her and she accepted his offer and let him swing her to the ground. His hands were large and warm and they felt foreign on her hips, but not unpleasant. He introduced himself with the upmost courtesy and offered to show her the house but when she turned to fully look at him and pulled her bonnet back she could see his enthusiasm for her arrival evaporate.
Peeta was pleased that she had nodded when he reached to help her from the horse but she was far too easy to lift. She couldn't weight more than 100 pounds. When he set her down the top of her head didn't even come to his chin. He couldn't help but feel a jolt of disappointment. Madge had been tall for a woman and although he had never seen them he was sure her legs were long and he had fantasized about them often. He tried to shake it off. A female with more curve than this one would have been preferable, but it would be fine. She was here and he wasn't alone anymore. That was the only issue of real consequence. He wasn't a shallow man and he was sure she had many other admirable qualities and he was eager to get to know her and discover them.
That was until she removed her bonnet and he had the chance to get a better look at her. Her hair was dark as night and matted with dirt and grime. Her face was reasonably clean but darker than any well-bred woman's should be. He couldn't tell the color of her eyes but he could see the guarded and weary expression in them. She wasn't going to be friendly with him and the way her brow formed an instant scowl told him that she was not often if ever joyful. He dropped his graze, concerned that his disapproval would show and when he did he saw that her dress was ancient and her feet were bare. They did not appear to be scrapped or damaged. She was accustomed to them being that way. His gaze shifted to her hands. Even from a couple of feet away he could see that they were deeply tanned and thick with callous. Her nails were short and one had recently been ripped almost completely off. This woman was no lady. She was also far too young, just a girl really. She wouldn't be ready to share his bed within the week.
He motioned around the farm quickly explaining how the property was laid out and naming the structures that it was completely obvious were there. It was no matter, she hung her head and stared at the ground and he was confident that she could not see them anyway. It was awkward and Peeta was anxious to end it. When he was through with his brief verbal tour he excused himself and requested that Haymitch join him in the barn for a minute to take care of the horses. Katniss remained for a moment feeling small and irrelevant and more ashamed of her appearance and circumstances than she had been in years. Her body seemed stiff and robotic as she forced it to execute the movements she needed to follow them so that she could listen from just outside the door.
"Haymitch, are you crazy?" she could hear Mr. Mellark saying in a loud whisper. She wanted to curl up and die. He didn't want her. Of course he didn't want her. He was a handsome man with means and property. Why would he marry a discarded vagrant? "Now listen here boy" Haymitch responded in his typical drawl. "That gal out there is exactly what ya be need'in. She's tough and she cooks and she actually knows how ta farm." She could hear Mr. Mellark pacing. "But Haymitch…she's…dirty. I mean she isn't a lady. You saw her, she looks like a field hand. She is awful dark too. Are you sure she is even completely a white woman?"
It was all Katniss could bare to listen to. She turned and through burning tears that she refused to shed began to walk towards the open prairie. She should never have come here. She wouldn't have if she had been given another choice. His rejection wouldn't hurt so much if Haymitch hadn't led her to believe that he was a good man. He had fed her lies and nurtured the hope inside of her that things could actually be different. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
She knew that her olive skin wasn't attractive but she had never had someone accuse her of being bi-racial. Not that she would be ashamed to be. Cecelia was by far a better human being than Cato or Mr. Mellark. It was just the way that he had said it, like she were next to nothing to him. How could Haymitch have believed that he would want to bed her and make her his wife? He would be disappointed that it had not worked out she knew. He may be misguided but he hadn't set her up on purpose. Perhaps Mr. Mellark would even refuse to buy the horse from him. Serves him right for having such dastardly friends.
It was partially the old man's fault anyway. He hadn't given her a single chance along the way to take a proper bath or wash her hair. He had continually insisted that they keep moving and always at a steady pace. She looked down. Her dress was hideous and she smelled poorly too. She tried to see it from Mr. Mellark's perspective and give him some grace but she failed. She realized that Haymitch had turned up with her and surprised him and that she looked affright. She also knew that even under the very best circumstances that she wasn't attractive and had very little to offer. Still, she couldn't imagine treating another human being the way he had acted towards her.
She might as well let it go. She would never see him again. She just hoped that she would find some kind of shelter or big tree to climb before nightfall. Now that she was out west it shouldn't be impossible for her to find work. The homesteads were spread out but they were numerous and she was positive she would find someone to hire her in the coming weeks. She did her best to focus on the positive but it was difficult after what had happened just a few short hours ago. He hadn't wanted her. She shouldn't care but she did. She wouldn't give in to weakness. She would keep fighting. She would never admit even to herself how much she had wanted him to smile at her and let her in.
Haymtich loved the kid but he couldn't help but want to punch him in the face as he heard the girl run away. Peeta, he noticed, was too distraught to even hear her. If she were any other female she would be going into the house to cry but she wasn't just any run of the mill "lady" as Peeta called them. She was headed out on her own and her face wasn't wet at all. That was one of the reasons Haymitch worried about her so much. She was too tough, too calloused for one so young.
Haymitch started towards the door. "Wait" Peeta called to him a bit startled. "Where are you going?" Haymitch turned on him. "Off with my own kind" he spat back. "I can see folks like me an Katniss ain't welcome here no more." He could see the kid was scared. That he had no idea the boundaries he had crossed by speaking about her in that way. "What?" he sputtered. "I didn't mean it like that. I just… she isn't like Madge at all and I need a good mother for my kids and she looks too young Haymitch. I don't think I would feel right you know… demanding my…husband rights from her."
Haymitch let out a long breath. He couldn't believe all of the fathering he was having to do for this fool boy. He needed to relax. If he did maybe Peeta would calm down too. He sat down and got out his pipe. "Well" he said after a couple of puffs. "Then don't. I don't think she'd take to ya demand'in noth'in from her anyway." Peeta looked confused. "So you don't think I should marry her?" he questioned. Haymitch shook his head. "That ain't what I said but I ain't sure ya even got that choice now. What I mean is ya don't demand a woman to yer bed ya got to woo her, ya know, court her some. If yer gentle and take care with her I promise ya boy she's plenty old enough. I think she's proly bout yer age giv'er take a few."
He took several moments trying to form the right words to explain Katniss to him. Peeta could sense that he wanted to say more and came to sit next to him. "I know ya think ya want some gal from a fancy house but look round ya. This is a hard life out here and ya need a gal who can hold her own. Katniss can do that. Ya also need a gal who needs ya back and that she does boy. She needs ya in spades." He could see the younger man's expression soften as he stopped to consider it.
"I was on my way back when I found her. I was visit'in my nephew Cato who is prolly bout as upstanding as a cowboy in a whore house. She was fight'in with im bout wages. He had all the power but still. She stood on that porch and gave him what for and he deserved that an more. She was share cropp'in for im and he was slight'in the workers. Everyone else was too afraid so she came all by her lonesome and fought fer what was right." Peeta could hear the admiration in the old man's voice and he couldn't help but be impressed too.
"What happened?" Peeta asked. "He hurt her and kicked her out without a thing to her name. I was scared fer the gal. She's all by herself in the world an I knew someone would take advantage of her. I rode up to her camp and she's in this tree an I got her to come down an she went and looked at me with those scared and determined eyes and she jus seemed so darn wary ya know. So beat'in and tired like. An ya know who I thought of? Yer dern horse. How ya said it looked when it came to ya." Peeta looked skeptical.
"There's lots a good in there" Haymitch told him. "Ya jus gotta pull back them layers and find it. She ain't jus a field hand I noticed. She can ride and right well. She knows hows to read and work her figures too." That caught Peeta's attention. He tried to conjure her face in his mind but he couldn't recall it with clarity. He walked outside to find her but she was nowhere in sight. "Where is she?" he asked aloud. "Runed off" Haymitch said walking out to join him. "She took off when she saw she wasn't good nough for the likes of ya."
Peeta had a sinking feeling in his gut and he took a few minutes to hate himself. He had been rude to her. He had hurt a poor innocent girl who had traveled hundreds of miles just to meet him. His mother's face came up in his mind. Her judgmental ways and superior attitude had reared up inside of him. He shook the thought away. He wasn't like her. "Where would she go?" he asked. "Don't know" Haymitch responded, wiping his chin. "She ain't got no one, didn't take no provisions. Couldn't have gotten none too far on foot."
Peeta's guilt was growing by the minute. She was small and unarmed on the prairie and it was all his damned fault. He saddled up his horse. Haymitch came up just as he mounted. "I'm guess'in she went that way" he said motioning to the west. "Why?" Peeta asked. "Cause she ain't never been there before" Haymitch responded with confidence. "And boy" he added Peeta rode away. "When ya pull back them layers I reckon yer gonna find some of them curves ya been dream'in bout too." His smile made Peeta color with embarrassment and he just managed a nod before taking off after her.
Two hours passed and he was nearly sick with worry. Haymitch had said to head west but that didn't make any sense. She was much more likely to return to one of the farms that they had passed along the way. She wouldn't have continued, there was no way of knowing what lay beyond his place. But after retracing the path they would have traveled to reach him and checking Haymitch's cabin he had no choice but to see if she was as brave and headstrong as the old man seemed to think.
The longer he rode the more he thought of her and the more he thought of her the more he confronted the stark reality of their situation. Haymitch had returned. He had returned with this girl which meant that there was no chance that anyone else was coming. If he turned her away he would be alone another winter and who knows how long after that. He shuddered at the thought of long hours trapped in his cabin. After a time, even his visits to the barn to talk to his horse were barely enough to maintain his sanity. He didn't think he could live through it again.
He contemplated her position as well. She had no belongings, no horse, no place to live. She knew no one in the area and it didn't sound like she could go back where she came from. He wondered about her family. He wouldn't think of turning her out, she would likely starve or be attacked by animals or a man. Peeta couldn't stand that thought. She was short and petite and she certainly wasn't his type but she was still a young vulnerable woman and no Indian, cowboy, or newly freedman would shy away from bedding her, some of them whether she was willing or not.
By the time he had finished considering both sides of the coin he was convinced that he needed to persuade her to stay. Given their circumstances they were both in a position to fill the need of the other and they would get used to each other in time. The only trouble was, after he had been so inconsiderate this morning he wasn't sure he would be able to bring her around to agreement. He sighed. He wouldn't force her. He was sure another man in the area would be willing to take her if she weren't agreeable to marrying him and he would give her that option as well. Haymitch could act as a chaperone for a night or two until Sunday when they could meet with the preacher. They could be married then if she was willing to accept him and if she wasn't he could find a woman during services that she could stay with until another husband could be found.
Yes, that is what he would do. He would lay out his proposal and ask her to stay. He knew with certainty that marrying him would be a better option than taking a chance with someone else but she may believe differently because he had insulted her. He scanned the horizon again. He would find a way to convince her, but first he had to find her and that was proving to be a very challenging task.