Chapter 32 - The Twilight Kitchen
The sun sank rapidly behind the western ridge, plunging the valley into sudden, violet shadow while the upper peaks still glowed like molten copper. Inside the villa's large, stone-flagged kitchen, the air smelled of roasting garlic, fresh basil, and the sharp, clean aroma of olive oil hitting a hot iron skillet.
Elena stood at the center island, expertly slicing thick rounds of crusty sourdough bread while Ricardo tended to the charcoal brazier set into the massive stone hearth at the back of the room. The old iron pots and copper pans hung from ceiling hooks, catching the warm, flickering orange light of the fire.
"The village postman dropped off a packet from the mainland while we were on the trail," Ricardo said, not looking up as he turned a string of fresh red mullet over the glowing coals. "Nothing urgent. Just the property tax assessment for the north groves and a catalogue from a seed merchant in Florence."
"Tax assessments and seed catalogs," Elena repeated, a soft, rich laugh escaping her lips. "If someone had told us five years ago that our most dangerous correspondence would involve heirloom tomato varieties and municipal land rates, we would have shot them on principle."
"Five years ago, we would have assumed it was a ciphered death threat disguised as a tomato list," Ricardo agreed, a dry smile touching his mouth.
Leo sat at the corner of the wooden table, swinging his legs and watching the grease sizzle on the fish with rapt attention, his exhaustion from the afternoon climb finally catching up with him in a series of small, polite yawns.
"Eat your dinner, little wolf," Elena said, setting a steaming plate of bread and fish before him. "Then straight to bed. Tomorrow we're riding down to the harbor to see Mateo's new boat."
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"Is it bigger than the last one?" Leo asked around a mouthful of bread.
"Twice as big," Ricardo replied, placing a platter of grilled mullet in the center of the table. "And if you behave yourself, Mateo might let you steer it past the red buoy."
