The Samurai's Garden (5 page)

****

Hanako knelt at her wooden basin, rinsing the new dishes and cups Hiro had brought. Never had she held such lovely things before. She was afraid of handling them, knowing how easily they could break. Rather than chance washing the delicate dishes in the stream, she had carried the water back to the hut.

What had made Hiro purchase such finery? He claimed he was happier here than in the city, but perhaps he missed some of the niceties there. Her crude wooden bowls and utensils looked so shabby next to the finely painted china, and she felt some embarrassment seeing them.

Long ago, when she was very young, she had found an old trunk hidden in the back of the hut, behind her father's
ofuton
. Overcome with curiosity, she had opened the trunk and found a treasure chest of memories. A tiny silk purse, a beautiful silk fan, two golden combs inlaid with coral and a pair of china teacups. The items must have belonged to her mother. Delighted with her find, she had taken the teacups out, wanting to use them with her father. But she had tripped, dropping the delicate cups on the hard wooden floor. One cup had shattered, and she had moved quickly to sweep up the mess and dispose of it before her father returned home. The box had been replaced in the corner, and for months, Hanako had lived in fear that her father would open the box and discover the missing treasure.

She was never sure if her father hadn't ever looked in the box, or if he didn't want to confront her and admit to harboring the keepsakes, but he had not mentioned the missing cup. After he died, she took the box out of the dark corner, and found another hiding place for it. Her husband would have had no use for the keepsakes, but she suspected his consuming need for alcohol would have led him to sell the treasures.

If she were to marry Hiro, he would probably expect to use finery like this every day. She would have to learn to behave like a lady, perhaps learn to walk and speak like a noblewoman. Could she live up to such expectations? Or would he tire of her clumsiness, the rough accommodations, the quiet pace of life in the country?

She finished cleaning the china and carefully set them in a lacquered box Kenji had once used to store his art supplies. Looking out through the lone window in the front of the hut, she saw Hiro making his way back from the woods, half carrying and half dragging someone she didn't recognize. The other man was much smaller and older than Hiro. Hiro carried two weapons in his free hand. Samurai swords. Her heart stopped. Had Hiro and this other samurai been engaged in a fight? Was he injured?

She hurried out of the hut. "What happened? Who is this man? Are you hurt?"

Hiro shifted his load so he could greet Hanako. "This is Ginjiro Yamada, my former comrade. He is in need of a place to rest and some food to eat. May I bring him in?"

Hanako took a closer look at the smaller man. He opened his brown eyes and made an attempt to focus on her. The fuzzy look became an appreciative leer, and she cringed inwardly.

"Tanaka-san," he slurred, "you did not tell me you had taken a wife. You are luckier than ever; she is a beautiful woman. How did you manage to talk such a fine lady into coming to live here, in the middle of nowhere?"

The man's speech revealed the true nature of his condition. Years of depending on no one but herself told her that she should block the door and keep him out. But Hiro had said this man was his friend. It would not do to refuse him hospitality. Hopefully, the newcomer would not take advantage of her if he thought she belonged to Hiro. She looked back at Hiro and bowed. "Certainly, a friend of yours is welcome here. I will serve what is left of this evening's meal."

She backed into the house and sighed with relief when Hiro took the man into his own hut rather than into hers. She reheated the water and the food, then reached for one of the china cups Hiro had brought. Before she could fill it with tea, she felt his warmth as he came up behind her.

"It is not necessary to use good china for Ginjiro. He is in no condition to safely handle such finery. A wooden teacup and bowl will be sufficient."

The warm breath on her neck and the deep, resonant voice, so close to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his solid presence and again, she caught a glimpse of what it would be like to be protected and cherished. Her heart pumped soundly against her ribs, and she put a hand to her chest to calm the chaos there. Never had she experienced such a reaction to a man's nearness.

The dream ended when Hiro backed away and returned to his friend, leaving her to complete her task. Apparently, Yamada-san was not an important visitor who needed to be impressed by nice things. Setting the china cup back down, she scooped the leftover food into a wooden bowl and took it to Hiro's hut.

Hiro sat on the edge of his futon, talking quietly to Ginjiro. Hanako was struck by the contrast between the two men. The newcomer had carried the two swords of the samurai class, and his clothing was similar to what Hiro had worn when he first appeared in the village. But there the similarities ended. It wasn't just the obvious difference in size. Hiro's bearing and confidence made him a man who demanded and received respect.

Hiro thanked her graciously and took the bowl from her. Ginjiro refused at first, but finally accepted the meal and tore into it enthusiastically.
Another difference between the men
, Hanako noted as she returned to her place. When Hiro ate, he did it quietly, sitting upright, and he displayed manners she had seen in people of wealth and nobility. This comrade of his crouched over his food and reminded her of the unkempt men in the taverns her father had frequented. Hiro kept himself clean and well groomed; this man looked as if his last bath was a distant memory.

She wondered why Hiro had brought him here, rather than simply giving him money to buy food. Did he owe the man a debt of honor? Were they somehow related? She would have to wait for her answers.

Hiro brought the dishes back to her hut when his friend had finished eating. She washed them and finished tidying the hut and prepared for bed. Her mind was brimming with questions about Hiro's friend. They had probably not seen each other for a long time. Perhaps Ginjiro had come bearing an important message.

Surely Hiro would tell her eventually. Meanwhile, she needed her rest. The sun had set, and thanks to Hiro's wonderful food, she could sleep soundly. She ignored the nagging voice in her head telling her the real reason she would sleep well was because Hiro had returned. He had suggested marriage, but did he mean it or was it a passing notion? The men in her life did not stay permanently or, if they did, they could not be relied on. She warned herself it would not be wise to depend on him.

****

Morning brought dark, dreary skies and driving rain. Hanako awakened to find several freshly caught fish cleaned and ready for cooking. Apparently she had overslept, but Hiro had been busy for quite some time. She wondered why he and his guest had not stayed to eat the fish. She looked outside and nearly chuckled at the sight of the two men, dripping from the rain, erecting a crude shelter for the animals.

His presence was reflected in every corner of her life, from the sturdily repaired home to the manicured fields. She had more energy than she remembered ever having before, due in part to his contributions from hunting and fishing. His willingness to share in the physical labor around the farm took much of the burden off her shoulders, and she slept better, not overwhelmed by exhaustion and hopelessness. She was ashamed by her reaction to his short trip to the city, her appetite plunging, her attitude becoming lethargic. Now that he had returned, so had her appetite, not only for food, but also for life.

The men would be hungry for the fish they caught. She lit the fire in her stove and seasoned the fish with herbs from her garden. In the past, most of her herbs went to the market to help pay for necessities until the fall harvest was in. But since Hiro had begun to share the workload, she was able to spend more time preparing nutritious and filling meals. She chose a few spicy greens she hoped Hiro and Ginjiro would enjoy, and prepared a salad. There was no rice, but finding some leafy spinach and green onions near the hut, she decided that a robust soup would complement the fish.

As she worked, she pondered again his proposition of marriage. Should she take a chance? Hiro was not the man her father was, nor was he like her husband.

Her introspection stopped when the men dragged themselves inside, their clothing soaked from the rain. Hanako stopped them at the doorway, bringing her threadbare blankets to stem some of the dripping and prevent a chill. They both thanked her before sitting at the table.

Hiro's friend looked better now the effect of the alcohol had passed. The rain had washed off some of his dirt and grime, too. He was still considerably wrinkled and worn, but the eyes that regarded her today were bright and friendly. There was no trace of the ashen-faced helplessness she had seen the previous day. She wondered what Hiro had done or said to give the man hope.

The herbed fish and spinach soup was consumed with relish and pronounced a culinary delight. Hanako blushed with pleasure at their praise and retreated to eat her own meal. After she rinsed the plates, she donned her straw raincoat and hat and headed outdoors. The fields would get their nourishment from the rain, but her animals needed food. Both men moved to follow her, but she insisted they had done enough for the morning and told them to rest. Feeding her few animals wouldn't take her long.

The cow had settled comfortably in the shelter Hiro and Ginjiro had built. The beast nodded her greeting but didn't move from her shelter. The chickens had taken refuge under the old cart Hanako used for bringing her vegetables to the market. They clucked furiously at her, seeming to scold her for the lateness of their meal.

Returning to the hut, she hung the wet straw garment on a hook and turned to find the two men waiting for her. Hiro wore an expression of excitement and anticipation. Would he leave soon with his friend on a new adventure? Had he forgotten his proposal of marriage? She prepared herself for disappointment. Now that she had healthy animals and a field full of crops, she would survive alone — somehow. She silenced her fearful thoughts and realized Hiro had been speaking.

"…so if it is acceptable to you, Ginjiro also would like to stay and learn the business of farming. With both of us working here, the farm will certainly prosper."

Hanako's eyes widened. He wasn't leaving! She reached for the wall, fearing her knees would buckle in relief. She would not have to return to her solitary existence, eking out a meager existence from the land. At least not immediately.

She pressed her hand to her heart and took a deep breath, bringing her focus back to Hiro's request. Ginjiro wanted to stay as well. Though she trusted Hiro, she was inwardly cautious of his friend. But an extra pair of hands would certainly make the work even easier, and as Hiro had pointed out, production from her tiny farm could be increased even more. She could perhaps afford to make some much-needed improvements on the farm.

When she looked at the men, she found Hiro regarding her patiently, while Ginjiro looked anxious. She realized they were waiting for her to make a decision. The idea of two men waiting for her approval spread a warm feeling through her. Unlike many of the men in the village, these two respected her and accepted her as the mistress of this home and the farm.

She bowed regally. "I would be honored to share my farm and my home with a friend of Tanaka-san."