Chapter 5

"How are you feeling?" I ask Delly.

Little Wills is one month old and she still lies abed. It's time she returns to her normal duties, although it means I must face my future. I cannot stay in Panem. I am attracted to Peeta who thinks of me only as a friend, and energetically wooed by Finnick for whom I do not care.

"Better, but not quite there yet," she replies.

I am suspicious of Delly. I return from organizing shelves in the Mercantile to find floors swept, brass polished, dishes washed. I think she sneaks from her bed to accomplish these tasks and then returns to play the weakling.

I still haven't told her about the letters Finnick has sent because I know she will prattle at length about what a fine husband he would make, and I'm not interested.

Rye pays me regularly for my work and in a few days I will have enough to return to my sister's home.

Under the guise of taking a short walk, I sneak down to the train station one day to ask about a ticket. Mr. Abernathy stands behind the counter.

"Do you work here?" I am surprised to see him. He appears sober.

"I'm the stationmaster."

"But you were on the train with me."

He snorts. "Even stationmasters ride the rails sometimes." He asks me if I'm here with a message from Peeta about his bread delivery.

"No. I'm inquiring about the cost of a ticket back to Omaha."

He is astounded. "But why are you leaving? I thought you came here to get married."

I roll my eyes at him. "It was a misunderstanding."

He shakes his head. "I heard about what Delly did."

My cheeks flush even though I remind myself that I am not at fault.

Mr. Abernathy answers my questions about the cost of a ticket and tells me there is no need to purchase it in advance. "Just show up and buy it the day you plan to go."

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News travels swiftly in Panem. That evening Delly asks if I've purchased a train ticket to Omaha.

I can't figure out how she heard of my visit to the station, yet she already knows. "Please don't go Katniss," she begs. "We still need your help."

The next morning a third letter appears. It is wedged into the doorframe of the Mercantile. It falls onto the ground when Rye opens the shop. He picks it up, glances at the name on front, and hands it to me. I shove it into my pocket and get to work.

I don't look at the letter until later when I watch Peeta's shop. The words are printed, not written in the beautiful script of the previous letters. There is no signature of "Your Admirer" at the bottom either. The writer must have been in a hurry.

Dear Katniss,

You have captured my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. My only hope is that you feel the same about me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Meet me behind the train station at 11:45 a.m. tomorrow to give me your answer.

I groan. I will have to face Finnick and refuse his offer. Because surely it must be Finnick who has written me these tender letters. I suppose he's heard I'm planning to leave Panem and he wants to stop me.

I am in such a state of anxiety when Peeta returns that he asks if something is wrong. "You look pale," he says, the concern evident in his voice.

"It's nothing." But I am overwrought.

Finnick visits the Mercantile right before closing to purchase yet another pencil. He speaks so sweetly to me, says he will see me tomorrow, and then winks. I give him a sickly smile in return, but I am dreading the next day when I will have to turn him down to his face. I suspect that Finnick will argue when I refuse his offer.

I can hardly eat dinner. As I read to Delly that evening I think that my life has come to resemble a story from Godey's Lady's Book. Not a story with a happily-ever-after ending, but one of the sad few that ends with a bitter twist. As I finish reading aloud a happy tale about a woman that found love in a gold mining camp in California, I close the magazine and turn to Delly.

"Was I the only one who answered your newspaper ad?"

Delly shakes her head. "No, there were other letters."

"Why did you respond to mine?"

Delly sighs. "None of the others were right. The women were too old, or too young, or had children, or were too priggish and proper to be happy here in Wyoming. From your description, I could tell that you would fit in here. Peeta would fall head over heels for you."

Well that is where you are mistaken, I think. The wrong man has fallen head over heels for me. I hope she saved those letters she received. Perhaps she can convince another woman to sign up as Peeta's fiancée after I go.

I lie awake in my bed unable to sleep. Finally I drift off but my dreams are plagued by nightmares. I am tortured by memories of my parents' deaths.

My head aches when I get up. Dark circles hang under my eyes. Delly takes one look at me when I bring her breakfast and suggests I return to bed.

"Are you sick?" she says.

I shake my head. "I'm fine. I didn't sleep well."

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I watch the time carefully that morning. At 11:40 a.m., I tell Rye that I need to take a break.

He nods and I dart out the door in the direction of the station. My heart is pounding. I walk around to the back of the building close to the tracks. It's empty.

I wonder when Finnick will arrive. I sit on the bench and stare at the land beyond the tracks where I have hunted jackrabbits. I like this tree-filled land with it backdrop of mountains. I will miss Panem when I go.

As I sit in the warm sun with my back leaning against the bench I close my eyes for only a moment. I startle when my name is called.

"What are you doing here?" Peeta asks. He is holding his delivery crate.

I blink several times, trying to remember why I am sitting on a bench sleeping in the middle of the day.

"What time is it?" I ask, mortified that Peeta has found me here.

A curious look crosses his face, but he pulls his watch out of his pocket and flips open the lid. "It's half past noon."

I've dozed off for forty-five minutes. Did Finnick come and go already?

I jump to my feet. "I should get back. Rye will be wondering where I am."

"Don't worry about my brother. He can take care of the store himself. Are you hungry?"

I'm ready to say "no" when my stomach gives a loud gurgle. I'm embarrassed by body's response.

But Peeta takes it in stride. "That sounds like a definite yes," he teases. He lowers his crate. "I have one loaf left."

My mouth waters.

"Let's eat in the shade. It's too hot back here."

I follow Peeta over the train tracks through the meadow of sagebrush and to a line of pine trees, whose small canopy provides a covering. He pulls the loaf of bread out and turns the crate over for me to sit on. He sits on a nearby tree stump. He pulls off a chunk of the dense bread filled with raisins and nuts and hands it to me. It's still warm.

Neither of us speaks; instead we concentrate on our food. I can't understand why Finnick didn't show. Maybe he was late. Maybe he's even looking for me now. I glance toward the station but no one's there.

I want to ask Peeta if he saw anyone when he made his delivery but I don't want to tell him why I was waiting. I'm grateful he hasn't questioned me further.

He finishes his bread before me, takes a deep breath, and speaks. "Look Katniss, I've been wanting to talk to you about what happened when you arrived at the bakery that first day."

His cheeks turn pink. "I was angry with Delly because of the letters, and for other things as well. I was insulting and, well, plain rude to you. I hope you can forgive me. You've been so amiable in the way you've handled this entire situation. Much better than me."

My face burns as I think of my ill-considered plan to get even with Peeta, but he continues. "I value our friendship and I feel terrible that I've likely offended you."

Friends. I want so much more than that but apparently Peeta doesn't.

"Will you forgive me?" he asks, an earnest plea in his voice.

His apology takes me by surprise. I am even more puzzled as to why he is bringing this up now. But I expect he knows I'll be leaving soon and he wants me to think kindly of him when I go.

"Okay." I answer.

We walk back to town together and I return to the Mercantile. My afternoon is consumed with thoughts about my suitor who failed to appear. Ironically Finnick stays away.

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Delly is grinning when I go upstairs after dinner. "The newest edition of Godey's Lady's Book arrived," she says, excitedly. She waves the magazine in front of me.

I smile at her happiness. Despite the situation she put me in, I have will miss our evenings together.

I turn to the first story in the magazine. It is about a woman who falls in love with a sea captain. She receives a letter from her beau. He writes: you have captured my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. My only hope is that you feel the same way about me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?

The story ends tragically as his ship is lost at sea and the woman spends the remainder of her life pining for her lost love. Delly wipes tears from her eyes, but my mind is reeling. The words of that letter are the exact same as those in the letter wedged in the doorframe of the Mercantile yesterday morning.

I am being toyed with yet again.

Author's Note: There wasn't much food sold on trains in the early years of train travel.

Vendors sold sandwiches at some stations. Some stations had attached restaurants, but stops were short. Many passengers supplied their own food for the journey. Dining cars were introduced on some routes in the late 1860s, but they were expensive to build and operate. By the 1880s they became more common, however, and increasingly elegant.