“Yes. If you wanted to wait and make a day of it, we can.” He made a motion with his head for her to follow him to the creek. “I don’t like putting off the wash until then, but a couple of days won’t hurt.” He saw her nod, but she didn’t respond otherwise. Waiting until reaching the water, he asked, “What’s bothering you, sweetheart? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t fix this.” She knelt and began scrubbing the cloth squares with a bar of soap.
He joined her, downstream so the food wouldn’t wash back on her clean fabric. “How do you know I can’t fix it? I’m pretty handy, plus I have a crew of men. If none of us can fix it, maybe it isn’t broken.”
She coughed out a little laugh. “You can’t fix society, Sam.”
“When I’m leading a society through the mountains, I can.” He saw in the orange light reflected by the clouds overhead how her eyes filled with tears. Resisting the need to put a wet hand on her shoulder, he asked, “Can you at least tell me? A sorrow shared is a sorrow lessened. Or so my mother says.”
Marie’s chin trembled, and she stopped scrubbing. “It’s nothing, really. I just can’t associate with Jenny and probably Ellen anymore.” She glanced up at him. “A divorcee isn’t a good influence on young women.”
He didn’t know what to say. Sam wanted to kiss her until she smiled again, but that wouldn’t solve her problem. He sighed while scrubbing a particularly stubborn crust. Kissing her would prove everyone right. A divorced woman was a loose woman. “You’re a lady, Marie, by anyone’s standards. I’m certain Miss Jenny will see she’s very wrong in allowing a civilization hundreds of miles away to dictate who she can be friends with.”
“I’d like to believe you.”
“So? Trust me. It’s not that difficult.”
She laughed. “Very well, I believe Jenny will regret not being my friend in this space of time.”
“See how easy that was?”
They walked into the camp, finding it empty except for Lefty. The young man glanced up from his journaling. “You just missed Mr. Warren. He told us his oxen are sick. Uncle Joe, Lucky, and Arnie are all caring for the others’ livestock. Their animals are doing poorly, too.”
“What are you still doing here?”
“I took care of our livestock already and put out our bedrolls.” He nodded at Marie’s blankets. “Hope you don’t mind, ma’am. I thought I might help you, too.”
“Not at all, Mr. Lefty.”
Sam said, “I’ll go double check on how the boys are doing. You can put everything away, Miss Renaud.”
“Certainly.”
He turned on his heel and went down the line. All the oxen and most of the horses already smelled like vinegar. Sam couldn’t detect the molasses, but knew his men had used a mix of the two. At the last wagon, the Warrens’, he paused, not wanting to see either one of the twins. Before Sam could slip past, Charles turned the corner and saw him standing there.
Warren strolled up to him. “Well, Mr. Granville. How very kind of you to visit. Especially since that tart you’ve been sniffing after isn’t here anymore.”
“Excuse me? Marie is nothing but a respectable woman, and you’d best remember to keep a civil tongue.”
Charles laughed. “You’re a fool. She’s lovely enough at first but turns into a sow-eared nag after a year. “
“Maybe it was the company she kept that helped her become a nag, sir.”
“Her life was perfect, except for her being in it. Besides, nothing I say matters. You can’t be interested in keeping a useless female like her past Fort Hall. She isn’t worth the trouble.”
Fury swept through him like a dust devil on a summer’s day. As if in reflex, he swung up and his right fist connected with Warren’s chin. Sam’s left punched him just as fast. One more hit and Warren woke up, punching Sam in the gut. Seeing the blow approach, he tensed his abdomen before Charles connected. Fighting with Nick all these years taught Sam the best times to hit and the best to block. Soon, he had Charles in a headlock with the older man struggling to get free. Sam laughed. Nick would have been stomping his shins or pinching his upper leg to bruising.
“What on earth is going on here?” Hester’s voice screeched out in the quiet evening air, halting both men.
Charles took the chance to slip out of the chokehold and Sam let him. While he checked his jaw for injury, Sam said, “It’s a fight, Miss Warren.”
“I can see that.” She stepped up to her brother. “Charles, really. I expected better of you than this street urchin behavior.”
“He started it,” Charles said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Dear God, Chas, it doesn’t matter who started it. You’re supposed to be the adult.” She put her arm around him. “Come on now, and I’ll fix up those horrible wounds.”
Sam’s brows rose as he took a couple of steps back. If those were wounds, he sincerely hoped Warren never saw the harsh realities of war. Or Indian attacks. Either way, they’d both learn about how fast a person could bleed out. He looked around him to see Lucky, Arnold, and Joe standing behind the Warrens.
Joe spoke first. “Your animals are all dosed, sir.”
“Thank you,” muttered Charles. “Good night.”
“Good evening,” replied Joe.
Without another word, the four went back to their own camp. His stomach and face hurt more with each step he took. He breathed in to see how much doing so would hurt and only inhaled so much before stopping. His eye ached from where Warren’s fist connected. Judging by Marie’s expression when he entered the firelight’s glow, his face looked as bad as it felt.
“Oh, Sam.” She rushed over to him. Putting cool hands to his face, she asked, “What happened? I heard Hester screeching. Tell me she didn’t do this to you.”
Sam laughed, even though doing so hurt. “No, I could handle her.”
“You fought Charles? That was foolish.”
“Maybe.” He lifted up his chin so she could attend to him. “I might have thrown the first punch, but he started it.”
“Oh, dear.” She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Dabbing a little more whiskey on a scrape, Marie added, “Why would you punch him, anyway?”
He winced at the alcohol’s sting. “He said something I didn’t like, something rude, and needed to know his words had consequences.”
“I see.” Pouring a little more onto the cloth, Marie resumed her doctoring. “What did he say?”
“Don’t know if I want to say.”
She paused. “What was it?”
“He was saying rude things about you.”
“Ah, so you took it upon yourself to defend my honor.”
He didn’t care for the scornful tone of her voice. “Yes, I did. He says one more word about you being useless, and I’ll fight him again.”
Marie laughed, and Sam remembered how much he loved the sound. She shook her head. “I’ve heard him say that very thing many times. Did he tell you how I was a useless, sow-eared nag? It’s one of his favorites when he’s angry.” She picked up one of his hands, examining for and finding the broken skin on his knuckles. “Either I’ve been pretty good for a long while, or he’s been distracted. Otherwise, he’d have called me that, and you’d have heard him before now.”
Her touches and holding his hand left his chest feeling as if he’d been breathing soda water. He loved how soft her skin felt against his fingertips. “If I’d heard him even then, I wouldn’t have hit him tonight.” Sam turned his hand palm up and tickled her wrist. “Traded him to the Indians, indeed, but not hit.”
She grabbed his fingertips to stop the teasing. “Right now, I’d let you trade him to anyone for anything.” Standing and storing the supplies back in the wagon, she added, “They could take Hester, too. She’s quiet in front of others, but she’s horrible, too.” She nodded at Lucky as he strolled by while on watch. “Let’s try to get some sleep. They’re not worth keeping us awake tonight.”
He smiled. The embers burn
ed low, so much that they gave her face a dim glow. By firelight or sunlight, Sam thought she was beautiful. He leaned in closer and said, “You’re everything a woman should be, what other women aspire to be.”
“Oh, my, thank you. I suppose you have had time to be poetic.” She settled into her bedroll with a sigh.
“That’s just a small sample. I’m planning on us being married by the time we get home.” He smiled when hearing her chuckle and snuggled deeper into his own blankets.
“Planning. So funny.”
Sam waited for her to continue until hearing her soft snore. He closed his eyes, too, and fell asleep.
He stood in the middle of town. Noisy, smelly, and everything civilization flowed around Sam. He breathed in, puzzled at how the cooking odors made his stomach growl in what seemed like midday. None of this seemed real. They’d not even reached the Columbia River. Opening his eyes, Sam groaned. Still heading west, still eating campfire food. He sat up, looking at the fire. Coffee and breakfast appeared ready.
“Good morning, sir.” Arnold held up a cornbread biscuit. “You’re the last one awake.”
“I see that.”
“We made the usual amount of noise. Lucky offered to play a tune. Miss Renaud suggested we see how long it took before your stomach woke you.”
Sam laughed. “Too long, it seems.” He went to the fire, accepting the cup Marie offered. She poured him coffee and handed him a plate. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“My pleasure. The sooner you eat, the sooner I can start washing.”
Arnold snickered. Sam put down his coffee and placed a hand over his heart. “Your concern for my hunger touches my very soul.”
“I’m sure.” She wrapped up the leftovers. “Arnie, did you want more coffee? There’s about a cupful left.”
“Naw, ma’am. I need to help the others with getting ready.” He stood, handing her his cup and dish. “Looks like my boss here needs it more than I do.”
Sam scowled at the kid as if greatly insulted. He took a sip, ignoring Arnie’s grin as he left. The cornbread biscuits tasted great. Marie had mixed in currants, giving the food a hint of sweetness. He wanted to savor every bite, but hunger took over, and he quickly finished. “Miss Renaud, you cooked a fine meal. Thank you.”
Taking his plate while pouring him more coffee, she said, “My pleasure. You’re doing me a great favor by allowing me to tag along with your crew.”
“I could hardly leave you at the side of the road.”
“True, and I’m forever grateful you didn't.”
Sam didn’t like how seriously she took his joking. “I misspoke. I’d never leave you alone anywhere. A man did just that once before out here, and I guess I’m still angry about it.” He finished up his drink. “Also, I’m more than a little unhappy at how Warren seemed to think you’d continue with him after their secret was revealed.”
“Well, he is quite a man.” She held out her hand for his cup.
He gave it to her, frowning until she winked at him. “Do you need any help?”
“No, and it seems the boys left picking up the beds to you.” She turned to go, saying over her shoulder, “You don’t want to wait too long. Lucky’s bugle will catch you lollygagging.”
Grinning, he did just as she suggested. Sam shook the dust and debris from each blanket before folding and stacking them.
He nodded at Uncle Joe and Lefty. “Good morning.” Both greeted him and continued hitching up the oxen to their wagons. Sam walked to the water and saw Marie walking toward him. He saw how pale her skin was under the slight tan. Her chin trembled, and he asked, “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t hesitate, sidestepping past him to the back of the wagon. “Nothing at all.”
Following, he said, “I can tell something is bothering you.” He watched her hand shake as she put the bucket of dishes in their place. “Did you see a snake, an Indian? A Snake Indian?”
“No, nothing like that.” The sound to move blasted through the cold air, interrupting her. “There’s no time for you to ask again.”
He hated knowing she was right. “Fine. We can always talk later.” Sam saddled his horse in a hurry. He got on and led Scamp to the water for a quick drink before leaving. One good day of traveling and they’d reach Fort Hall. There, he could send on the Warrens’ divorce, and military couriers could take it from there. He’d not feel right about planning a future with her until the act was official. He grinned. Until then, he’d fix whatever was bothering Marie and enjoy the beautiful day.
By noon, most of the animals struggled, sick. Some were lame, but most acted poorly. Sam knew from the alkaline dust that they’d need a dose of vinegar and molasses for each. He rode his horse to their wagons, glad to see Marie, and made medicine for everyone. After the sickest of humans each had a tablespoon, he and his men made sure all the animals had a portion. They continued on after an hour, rolling down good roads. The gradual incline became steeper with each passing minute.
He had his eye on reaching the summit of the ridge dividing the Columbia and Bear rivers. If he remembered correctly, a healthy creek ran from a spring. They’d have to go a couple of miles past the summit. Up so high, they’d all have a good view of the sunset and any dangers approaching. He didn’t expect to see Del and Ellen, hoping both waited at Fort Hall for them.
They reached the summit creek later than Sam had planned. He’d resisted the urge to gallop ahead, staying with the middle of the group. Lucky knew where tonight’s campsite was, and Sam allowed him to lead the way.
They did their chores as usual. Marie helped with theirs first, Sam noticed, and then went to help Mr. Winslow with the boys. Uncle Joe cooked dinner, having it ready just as she got back to them. She ate without talking much. Sam fretted a little over her silence. But with everyone talking about Ellen and whether or not Del had found her yet, Marie couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise anyway, he supposed.
When she began gathering their empty plates, Sam stood too, saying, “I’ll help with washing.” He walked with her, not giving Marie any choice in the matter. She didn’t say anything on their way to the creek. Sam struggled to stay quiet, intending to let her talk to him when she was ready. He knelt on the bank when she did. Sam took all the dishes and silverware from the bucket so she could rinse it. When she set the pail down, he gave her a plate. They washed up this way, her putting the clean item into the bucket as she finished.
Her reserve worried him. Sam needed to hear her happy voice, not this lingering silence. “Please, Marie. There’s something wrong. You’ve been quiet all day.” He caressed her face with the back of his hand. “I’ve not seen any hint of a smile since breakfast.”
“How are your knuckles?” She held his hand and examined the wet skin. “Still looks painful.”
“Never mind that.” He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
She blinked a couple of times before saying, “I need to mention an issue you might find necessary. It’ll probably determine how much you would want to help me get to Oregon.”
He frowned. “There’s nothing able to sway me from helping you do whatever it is you want unless it’s remarrying Warren. Even then, if your heart were set, I’d help you.”
“No, this is another issue. I have no children because I’m barren. Charles has two sons with his first wife, so we know he does not lack in any way.” She paused, looking away from him. “I figured if any man were to offer for me, he’d like to be aware of my inability.”
Keeping his expression neutral, Sam nodded. “I understand and remember you telling me this a while back. I also appreciate your candor. My offer of getting you to Oregon is unchanged, of course.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s my job.” He looked back at the camp for a moment. No one approached them. “And my pleasure.”
She smiled up at him before continuing to clean. After returning her grin, he also kept washing, his mind occupied. Now
that marrying her seemed possible, his feelings about being a father someday now mattered. Sam had always assumed he’d have children. He slowed, wanting to be near her as long as possible.
Marie placed her last dish in the bucket. “I’d always thought that if orphans arrived in Oregon, Charles and I could adopt and care for them.” She stood. “We’d talked about it. Maybe he and Hester could carry on if a child needs help.”
Getting to his feet and picking up the dinner pail, he said, “As much as you’ve cared for Winslow’s children, I’d think you’d taken them to raise.”
“No, but they are good boys.”
He kept quiet on what he’d seen of Winslow’s actions in the past. The drinking, the mean attitude, his siding with Warren and going against Sam’s orders all added up to reckless behavior. The man had been quiet since his wife died and daughter disappeared. As he and Marie approached the camp, Sam realized thinking of the devil made him materialize. Winslow stomped his way to them.
“Ma’am. You need to help me with the boys. Miss Jenny has helped out today, not hiding around like you.”
“Excuse me?” asked Sam. His voice came out harsher than he’d intended and he cleared his throat.
Marie patted Mr. Winslow on the arm. “It’s all right.”
“Yeah, everyone was all sympathetic. Now everyone has gone back to their lives, leaving me alone to deal with two rascals. You promised to help, and now you need to make right with it,” grumbled Winslow.
“Very well. Have they had their dinner?”
“Yes, Miss Jenny did that. You need to wash dishes and set up the bedrolls for us.”
Sam didn’t like the man’s condescending tone. The way he ordered around Marie led him to wonder how much of Jenny’s help had been voluntary instead of forced. Thinking Winslow was a grown man and capable of caring for two little boys, Sam asked, “You can’t do all that yourself?”
“I can and have been. Warren is having a little get-together, and I want to attend. I work hard and deserve a night to relax.”
He saw the conflict of emotions wash over Marie’s face before she said, “Go on, then, and I’ll tuck the boys in and wash up for you.”
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