Marked

Epilogue

There was a green field that stretched on for miles. Rachel stood on a hill, overlooking the entire thing and admired what their hands had created, together.

Field after field full of crops gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Corn and potatoes, grapes and apples. Dozens of rows of food to ensure that no one around them ever went hungry.

It was a thing of real beauty. 

Peeling her eyes away from the scenery, she finished shoveling hay into two pails, gathered the buckets and made the trek down to the stables where Red and Cazador were eagerly anticipating her arrival.

Red gave a small whinny and bumped Rachel on the shoulder with her muzzle. She set down the pails and took a deep breath as the horses delved into their breakfast. 

"I thought we'd agreed to let me take care of the horses." Hector's voice reached her from the entrance where he leaned against the wooden door in his trademark stance.

Rachel blew out a breath. "But I get bored of sitting at home all day."

Hector disengaged himself from the door and came to stand in front of her. His brown eyes glittered with humor as one hand went down to her stomach and gently rubbed the round bulge protruding from her body.

"You have to be careful, hermosa. You know Red gets excited when she sees you and she could hurt the baby."

"Red is a sweetheart, she would never."

"You're so stubborn." He groaned. Rachel rested her forehead against his, his light stubble prickling at her face.

"Is it time already?" She asked. 

"It's time." He replied. 

"Okay, let's do this."

Going from the stable and out into the sunlight left her eyes struggling to adjust. Once they did, she could make out two vehicles approaching down the winding dirt road. 

As they made their way to the picket-fenced entry to the Hernandez farm, Chucho, the golden retriever left his place by the porch and began to weave in and out between Rachel and Hector. 

Going ahead of them, he took up a defensive stance, his lip curled back over a snarl at the strangers.

"Easy, Chucho." Hector rubbed the dog's head. Together, they waited for the procession of cars to arrive at a stop.

"Is this the Hernandez residence?" A man with a receding hairline and five-o-clock shadow asked. 

"It is."

"We have a delivery--"

"We know. Can you set it over here? We have the plot ready."

Rachel pointed to the area surrounded by five oak trees. The space held a garden of flowers filled with red roses, pink petunias, yellow tulips, white daffodils. And now a hole in the ground rested among it all, six feet deep.

Out of one of the vehicles, the men pulled out a shiny, red casket and carried it over to the plot. Gently, and with the help of Hector, they eased the casket into the ground and then took off just as they'd come.

Rachel gathered some flowers from the garden as she waited for the others to arrive. Every time she'd bend down, the little human inside her body would protest with a kick to the ribs.

"Easy, little one." Taking a needed break, she leaned against a tree while she observed Hector.

Next to the oak trees he scooped out the last handfuls of dirt to make space for a new sapling. Clapping his hands together to clear them, he looked up at her and smiled.