“All right,” Marie nodded. “I’m sorry to be so obtuse. This is my first and only divorce so far.” Thinking for a moment, she added, “I don’t even know of anyone else who’s had one. I don’t owe him anything, nor does he owe me anything? Is it truly as easy as a signature?”
Sam gave her question some consideration and answered, “No, not usually. Divorce is granted by the Territory’s legislature. While the decree itself is general, I’ll include a letter with more detail to a discreet friend of mine. Had there been children, custody and support would have been addressed in the main document. Being none, it’s a non-issue and not included in the decree. You also own no land together, am I right?”
“Not yet, not until California.”
“Very well, then. You’re completely your own person.”
“I see.” She glanced around at the scattering crowd. Lefty, being the last to sign, still held the pen and weighed down the drying paper. “I think he’s done.”
Sam took the pen and paper. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help with the matter.”
“My pleasure, boss.” He tipped his hat. “Miss.”
Warren looked Marie up and down, saying, “Goodbye, Marie. I’ll leave you with your payment, then.” He said to Sam, “Granville.” After motioning to his sister, the two walked away.
Tears gathered in Marie’s eyes as she said, “I might find some chores that need doing. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to be alone for a while.”
“Of course. This is a sad day for you, and I’m sorry for all of it.” He wanted to reach out to her, but she wore a don’t-touch feeling like a cloak. “We’re a little late in getting started. So double check everything is packed, and we’ll be moving shortly.”
She nodded, wiping away the tears dripping down her face. He resisted giving her a hug, not easy when every part of him wanted to console her. Sam went to saddle Scamp and see where the other men in his party were. Riding a little to the north, he saw Lucky sitting astride, bugle ready. Sam nodded, and the young man sounded the order to move.
Wheels began rolling along the broad, scenic valley. The fresh morning air, a beautiful ribbon of river, and the smell of fresh grass being crushed underfoot brightened his day. Out of her sight, he allowed himself a grin over Marie’s freedom. He’d expected her to mourn the loss of her marriage. While aware of his selfishness, he enjoyed the chance to court her openly. Which called for a solid plan. He kept up in front with Lucky, admiring the landscape and calculating how long to wait until proposing to her.
“Boss?” Lucky asked.
The young man appearing at his side startled Sam a little. A sliver of fear slid down his spine to his naval. He needed to pay attention to the surroundings a lot better in Shoshone country. Too many tit for tat killings had happened for his comfort. “Yes?”
“We’ll lunch at Soda Springs?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Good. I’ll ride back and tell the others.”
Sam resisted the urge to have Lucky stay up front while he went himself. He scanned the low mountains to the sides, knowing he just wanted the excuse to see Marie. Enough time had passed since this morning, and his elation faded to worry. He fretted over how she must now feel about the sudden upheaval in her life. Would she find him attractive even if he were no longer the forbidden fruit? Sam shook his head at the thought. She said she loved him. His heart thudded heavy in his chest. He’d see her to wherever she wanted to go, even if the place ended up being far from him. Hearing hoofbeats behind him, he turned to see who approached.
“Sir,” Lucky began. “They’re all set to stop at Soda Springs.”
“Thank you. It’ll be a treat.”
“Mrs., er, Miss Marie is fine. She’s with our wagons.”
He nodded, resisting the need to ask any more about her. Realizing she was free for him to talk with any time he wanted smacked his thoughts. “You know, Lucky, I think you can lead us to the springs. I need to check on Marie myself.”
Lucky gave his boss a sly grin. “I was wondering how long you’d be up here this morning.”
Turning Scamp around to backtrack, Sam trotted to the company wagons. He eased up, letting his horse slow when seeing her off to the side. His heart hurt at how forlorn and lovely she looked. She’d let her sunbonnet fall down behind her while walking. When she caught sight of him, he waved, grinned at her return greeting, and trotted over to her. “Hello, ma’am.”
As he swung off his horse, she asked, “Hello, Sam. Is everything all right so far?”
He fell into step beside her. Her hair glistened in the sunlight, but her eyes seemed clouded. Sam kept his tone bright, hoping a good mood was contagious. “So far, yes. How about you?”
“Oh, I’m still sorrowful and extremely shocked. I feel horribly foolish, too.” She tugged at her sleeve. “They’d been carrying on under my nose for who knows how long. I never suspected.”
Sam disliked how she didn’t share his joy at her freedom. He patted her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “Of course, you didn’t, sweetheart. Who would suspect those two? No one.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m not just ignorant for believing Charles was only with me?”
“No, you’re not.” He shook his head, adding, “No more so than any other woman with a philandering husband.”
“I suppose we’re all stupid, then.”
Anytime she was less than kind to herself, Sam didn’t like it. Bad enough he’d had to endure the Warrens’ attitude toward Marie. He hated her echoing their words, and said, “No, I’d not say so. Trusting your spouse isn’t a test of intelligence.”
She laughed. “Good thing it isn’t. Though maybe as close as you and I have been, I’m as guilty as Charles is.”
He squelched his first impulse to loudly deny anything could be wrong with her. Taking a breath, Sam stalled for time, saying, “Hmm. I’d have to think about that.”
“There’s no need. I’m terribly guilty. We’ve kissed. I’ve said I love you, and both are enough. Charles and Hester’s actions are my just rewards.”
This entire conversation irritated him. He didn’t like thinking of Marie as anything other than an angel. “I disagree. If they’d behaved as a proper brother and sister, you’d not be the third wheel in your own marriage. Their romance left you alone enough to fall for the next handsome man you saw.” He glanced over to see her grin.
“I suppose so, Mr. Handsome.” They walked for a bit. After a while, she sighed and said, “This may take a while for me to get through, Sam. I’m happy to be free, since I do care about you, but my heart still hurts.”
Seeing her eyes well up with tears, he put an arm around her. “I’m certain it does, sweetheart. It has to. Even if you hated him, and who could tolerate her…?”
“Do I need to answer?” He put his face close to her hair and breathed in, enjoying her scent.
“No, but I do wonder how a man could ever look at another woman after seeing you. Knowing you has been like being bit by a mosquito.”
“How romantic,” she said, her voice indicating it was anything but.
Sam stopped her, putting a hand to her chin and having her look into his eyes. She needed to know he was serious. “It is. You’re in my blood like a fever that won’t let go.”
She choked back a laugh before saying, “I appreciate you not calling me an illness. Fever sounds much better.”
He chuckled and resisted caressing her face. Up ahead, the first of their party eased to a stop. Sam judged he had another ten minutes alone with her and wanted to make the time count. He let his arm around her shoulders fall and resumed walking. Summoning up his best casual tone, he said, “My love for you is a condition I never want to cure.”
She laughed. “It took only a few steps for you to think up such a pretty line.”
“Just think what I could say between here and Oregon City.”
“Oh dear. I consider myself warned.”
Glancing over, he
grinned when seeing the twinkle in her eyes. “I’ll make Shakespeare’s sonnets pale in comparison.”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise before she laughed. “I’m sure you will, Mr. Granville.”
The wagons followed close enough to one another that the oxen knew to slow as those ahead of them slowed to a stop. His face heated as he thought of what he’d promised. Words to rival the Bard’s? Sam went to the wagon and retrieved a glass jar. “I have a treat for you. Just follow me and you’ll see.”
She nodded. “That sounds like a fun idea. Could we care for the animals at the same time?”
“Sure.” He continued to lead Scamp. Catching sight of Lefty, Sam said, “Lefty, I’m getting some soda water for Miss Renaud and the rest of us. Can you and the other men lead the animals to a fresh pond?”
“You bet, boss.” Lefty nudged his horse on to find the others.
Grinning at Marie, Sam said, “You’ll like this.” He led her to a bubbling spring he was familiar with and knelt to scoop up some water. “It’s a little lukewarm, but fizzy.”
After giving him a dubious look, she tipped up the glass and drank a couple of sips. She stopped, chuckling. “It tickles! How fun! The water tastes plain, but doesn’t feel plain.” She handed him the jar. “Here, the rest is for you.”
“I’ll take it. We can get more for later.” He refilled the container and stood.
Following him back to camp, she asked, “Do the bubbles last very long?”
“Some. They gradually decrease over time.”
“What happens then?”
Sam dug around in the wagon for whiskey and sugar. “It turns into ordinary water.” He added a splash of the liquor to the water and a dash of sugar. Swirling it until most of the sugar dissolved, he handed the jar to Marie.
“Oh. No explosions or poison?” She tried a sip at first, and a surprised expression crossed her face before she took a longer drink.
He laughed and eased the mix away from her. “No, none of that,” Sam said before trying the drink himself. It tasted better than he’d remembered.
With a small grin, she asked, “May I have some more?”
“Of course.” He gave her what was left of the sweet whiskey water. “I’d tried putting a lid on the whiskey jug last time, but it didn’t work. The bouncing of the wagon shook the bubbles right out of the water. The drink wasn’t bad, just not what I’d expected.”
“That’s a shame. I’d have liked mixing a strong wine with the bubbles and make a sparkling rosé.”
“I like that idea.” At the wagon, they waited until his men got their lunches from a napkin covered cook pot. Everyone spent more time chewing than talking, eager to get back to the soda water. He grinned when seeing how fast Lucky, Lefty, and Arnold left for the springs with Uncle Joe strolling behind them. “They’re going to have it all drank by the time we get there.”
“No, they can’t.”
Chuckling at her dismay, he reassured her with a pat on the back. “No, I don’t think it’s possible, sweetheart. We can go help them. The springs past here aren’t as good.”
She nodded, following him as he went to the best watering hole. Most of the others, including Sam’s men, stored some for later. He hoped the fizz lasted longer for them than it had for him during earlier trips. The shadows lengthened, showing the time past noon. “All right, gentlemen. Let’s get moving.” As they all went to get ready for moving, Sam turned to Marie. “Would you like to ride on Scamp with me? I promise to behave.”
“Maybe later,” she said. He must have betrayed some dismay at her answer because she put her hand on his arm. “Right now, I need time alone to think. Ask me again some other time, and I might say yes.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Please do.”
Lucky’s bugle sounded, and the wheels began their slow roll. Most times the noise didn’t bother him as much as it did now. Sam reckoned he must be irritated. The man picked the instrument up on their last trip west and never put down the blasted thing. Sam shook his head. No doubt about it. Marie’s refusal stuck in his craw. His own irritation bothered him, too. The woman needed time, he scolded himself, not some man pawing at her. He sat up straighter in the saddle. They still had a third of the journey ahead of them. In that time, he could think of the best arguments for her marrying him. Besides, arguing was his specialty. He grinned. She didn’t stand a chance of refusing him.
Lost in his thoughts and scanning the horizon, he led them ten miles down the road. Sam saw a few people letting their animals drink from some of the creeks they encountered despite him telling them distinctly not to do so. He made a mental note to mix up some molasses and vinegar. It’d help ease stomach aches the poison water might cause.
Seeing the sun dip under the horizon, he sighed. Sure, the mountains helped the day seem shorter. They still needed to find a good spot to camp for the night. They had another day’s travel before reaching better water. He led Scamp to the sliver of a creek they followed. Once there, he hopped down and tasted the water. Taking another drink to be sure, he found nothing wrong. It might have a bit of alkali, but not enough to immediately detect. He looked north, searching for anything able to give them fuel to dinner’s fire. A few scrub brush thickets followed the canyons down from the mountains to the east.
He straightened. The dead twigs and branches might be enough for them tonight. As Lucky trotted up to him, Sam said, “That next clump of shrubby trees? That can be camp.”
“I’ll let everyone know.” The young man nudged his horse into a gallop, kicking up white powdery dust.
Sam shook his head. He’d need a dose of his own vinegar tonic this evening, judging by the soil. Hopping up on Scamp, he trotted ahead to the potential campsite. Getting there didn’t take long. Once there, the water seemed good and he saw plenty of grass for the animals. What looked like scrub brush from far away turned out to be a thicket of stunted trees.
The first of the wagons caught up to him. Mr. Allen and his wife sat up front, with Jenny strolling beside. She carried a handful of yellow wildflowers. He tipped his hat at the Allens and called out to Jenny. “Good afternoon, Miss.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “Good afternoon, Mr. Granville.”
Her frown puzzled him, but other concerns needed his attention more at the moment. “Mr. Allen, we’ll camp here. Stopping anywhere is fine.”
The other man nodded while Mrs. Allen smiled at him. Sam rode on down the line certain what bothered Jenny didn’t concern the rest of her family. He checked over everyone in the group. They all settled in for the evening as smooth as ever. His men scattered to do their chores. Sam removed Scamp’s saddle and staked him out for the evening. Seeing the others tend to the oxen and their own horses, he went to the clump of trees. Not a lot of wood lay ready on the ground, but a few branches had snapped in the afternoon winds. He picked up an armload full. Lucky passed by him with the same idea. By the time the young man returned with another bunch of wood, Sam had a good campfire burning.
Marie walked up to him. “How nice. I don’t think I’ll ever take wood for granted again. Clean water, either.”
He leaned back on his bedroll and patted the blanket. “Just wait until your first night in a real bed.”
She went to the nearby wagon, saying. “Oh, goodness! Such heaven. I can’t even imagine.”
He laughed. “Surely you remember beds.”
She paused in fixing the meal as if trying to recall. “I’ve not even touched a bed since…”
“Fort Laramie. I remember a bed there.”
“My. Yes, there might have been something like that.” She glanced up at him, and his body temperature spiked. “I might have regretted not taking advantage of what I had at the time.”
He’d suspected Marie had the same desires as him. She’d hinted as much before now. He said, “I know I wish every night I’d spent the night at the fort.”
“Every night since?”
“Absolutely.” He glan
ced over at her, smiling at the blush staining her cheeks. She glowed like an autumn sunset, and he almost laughed. Wanting to see how bright of a red she could get, he added, “Though I’ve often imagined not even needing a bed. The back of the wagon, in warm hot springs, against a tree, or even on top of Independence Rock. A man could sleep anywhere if the circumstances allowed.”
Her face brighter than the campfire, she put food on to cook. The crew came in one by one and sat, waiting for dinner. In a transparent attempt to change the subject, Marie said, “This friend of yours, Adelard. Do you trust him?”
He glanced around at the assembled group. “Of course, I do, as much as I trust anyone here.”
“All right then, I trust him, too.”
“Good. He’s been nothing but a decent man since I’ve known him. Plus, he’s the only one who could go get Ellen back for us.” He paused, staring into the fire. “I’ve trusted him with my life before and know I can trust him with hers. If she’s still alive, he’ll bring her back to us.”
“He needs to get a move on. I’m missing the fresh game he hunted for us.” Arnold’s comment broke the somber atmosphere, and everyone laughed.
Dinner passed quickly and without much talking. The meal was the usual salt pork with cornbread biscuits. The first finished, Sam stood up, stretching his legs. “Miss Renaud cooked. I can clean.” He gathered plates and forks from everyone after each ate the last few bites. “Unless someone else besides her wants to volunteer?” he joked. Their chorus of no’s answered his question, and he laughed. Other chores would keep them busy while he washed up from dinner. He waited while Marie wrapped the extra biscuits in a clean cloth. “We probably need a few napkins washed for tomorrow and maybe the next day. We should reach Fort Hall by then.”
“All right. I can clean these and the wash rags while you’re doing dishes.” She stood up with the bundle of food. Going to the back of the wagon, Marie placed the leftovers in a basket. She gathered up the used napkins and dishcloths. “I’m assuming there’s a lot more clean water at the fort than here?”
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