He still had an hour to go before Shabbos, enough time to exercise the animals and cool his rage. He ran the horses hard, galloping, jumping, stopping and starting on command, jerking the reins tighter than necessary. Each animal he rode broke into a sweat in a matter of minutes. Ginger panted furiously, but Decker drove her on. By the time he was done with the workout, his T-shirt was soaked, his hair as wet as if he’d dunked in a pool.

Afterward, he felt calmer, his anger now replaced by nervousness at having to face Rina. But screw that! He explicitly told her to stay away from Abel. How could she have been so stupid as to disobey him?

Disobey him.

As if she were a child.

Sometimes it felt that way.

By the time he was done grooming the animals, he barely had enough time to clean off before Shabbos. He took a quick shower, shampooed his hair, and shaved while drying off.

As he dressed, he wondered how to approach Rina. She wasn’t in the house when he came into the dining room, but the Shabbos candles had been lit. The table had been covered with starched linen, the wine poured into a crystal decanter, the challah set under a velvet cloth. A vase of wildflowers sat in the middle of the table. From the kitchen wafted aromatic smells of fresh-cooked meat, spices, garlic, and onion.

Decker felt his head begin to pound. Placing a yarmulke atop his head, he went back into the living room, took out a siddur, and said the afternoon prayers, then Kaballat Shabbat—special prayers welcoming the Sabbath. It took him about fifteen minutes, then he was forced to close the book and deal with Rina.

He popped two aspirins into his mouth, then went into the backyard. She was studying the sky, her hand shading her eyes. She had changed into a white dress dotted with gold, the fabric draped subtly to give a hint of her delicious curves. Her head was covered with a white silk kerchief trimmed with yellow fringes, the tassles running down her back like drawn gold. The sun had gone down, but the western horizon was still bursting with reds and lilacs, the great mountaintops gleaming like polished brass, the foothills aglow with the last flickers of daylight.

He called her name, and when she didn’t respond, he walked over and hugged her from behind. At first, she neither accepted nor rejected the gesture, but eventually, she nestled into Decker’s arms. They stood for a long time, until dusk yielded to night, the mountains turning into deep purple shadows, the sky an inky ocean glittering with silvery waves.

“You still mad at me?” Decker said.

Rina responded in a quiet voice, “Shalom bayis.”