by Paty Jager
She peered straight at him and took a bite instead of a nibble.
He nodded. “Old man Haskell came out here in eighteen-sixty-four when gold was discovered near Helena. He set up the trading post here to fill his pockets with the gold the miners who ventured into the mountains used to pay him for goods.” Isaac swallowed some coffee and watched Allie put the last of the biscuit in her mouth. “I’d bet my Winchester his scales weigh light, giving him more gold than the miner thinks he’s paying.”
“So he swindles the miners?” Allie asked.
“And anyone else who sets foot in his trading post. Indians, settlers. He doesn’t care as long as he makes money.”
“Then why didn’t we get all our supplies in Morgan’s Crossing. They were high, but it was good quality things.” Allie winced and hugged her arms to her middle.
“What’s wrong? You haven’t looked good since you came out of the tent.” Isaac set his cup down and knelt next to Allie.
“It’s nothing I want you concerned about.”
Her irritated tone made him back up and raise his hands. “I’m only concerned whether or not you’ll be able to walk to the trading post.”
“I’ll be fine. I can’t change the fact I’m a woman, but I can ignore it.” She stood, tossing the coffee over the small fire and packing things in the food box.
Isaac stood contemplating her last comment. He had a fair idea he knew what her problem was, but seeing as how she wasn’t about to spill, he’d keep quiet. “Haskell has a Nez Perce wife. You might be able to see if she can help.”
Allie stared at him a moment, her cheeks finally getting some color. But it was from embarrassment, he guessed. Not sure what he’d said to embarrass her, he put the food box on the mule, tied it down, and headed through the pine and fir trees toward the trading post.
He heard Allie’s skirts rustling through the underbrush behind him and the mule. The first few days when they’d walked through open country, she’d walked beside him asking questions. The last two days most of the time he was lucky to find a path the mule with his pack could squeeze through the pine and fir trees and around the thick underbrush.
Being it was late June the bushes were budding and blooming. Some spots the sweet scents of the flowers were almost too much for his nose to take. After an hour, he stopped. From Allie’s paleness when she woke, he figured she’d need a break. He looked back the way he’d come and didn’t see her.
How long had it been since he’d checked over his shoulder to see if she was there? Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? He tied the mule to a tree and started back along the trail.
He found Allie’s nightgown spread on a bush but no sign of Allie.
“Allie? Allie!” he called, staring into the trees.
“I’m here.”
He started toward the sound of her voice.
“But don’t come!”
Her hysterical tone stopped his feet. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll be out soon. Go wait up the path, please.”
This time the soft pleading in her voice worried him. “Are you sickly?”
“Please, I’ll be along shortly.”
Isaac didn’t like moving up the path, but could tell his presence was upsetting her. “I’m just a bit up the path,” he said to reassure both her and himself.
“I’ll be there soon.”
He started to grab the nightgown but then thought better of it. The white garment signaled where she’d strayed off the trail.
Walking back toward the mule, he stopped about halfway. He could see the mule and the white gown. Crossing his arms and leaning against a pine on the edge of the trail, he waited.
Five minutes or so later, Allie emerged from the bushes. Her face was paler.
Isaac hurried back down the path, watching her jerky movements.
“What’s wrong? You have looseness of the belly?” It was the only thing he could think of that would send her to the bushes.
Allie spun toward him, her nightgown bunched in her hands and held against her chest. Her eyes took on more life than he’d seen in them earlier in the day.
“Yes. My stomach is upset. I’m sorry I’m holding you up.” She stepped around him and down the path toward the mule.
Isaac stared after her, noting she walked a bit funny, but he kept his mouth shut and hurried to catch up. He knew what it was like traveling when your belly was unsettled. He’d keep his mouth closed and move a bit slower.
Chapter Seventeen
Alamayda decided being embarrassed for having an upset stomach was better than the truth. Men didn’t want to know about the things that happened to women monthly. She’d “become a woman” at the age of thirteen and had no one to explain to her why she was bleeding. She thought she had a disease and there would be no one to take care of the children and Ma. The thought to ask Ma hadn’t occurred to her because she didn’t want to burden Ma with the bad news. When it quit, she figured whatever had upset her inside had gone away. Then a month later it came again.
Ma noticed that time and explained the curse to her. How it was her body making her womb ready for a baby. Alamayda had cried. She didn’t want a baby. Didn’t want her body doing things that interrupted the work she had to do. Ma had shushed her and told her all women went through this, and she’d have to get used to it. That was the last time she’d cried over the inequalities between a man’s and a woman’s body. She wanted to go back to being a child. The only good thing she found was her body never developed the curves men desired.
Alamayda walked up to the mule and tucked the sleeves of her nightgown under the ropes of the pack to let the gown dry. After having to hide in the bushes to pass a large clot, she wished she could dig into her bag and get another rag. But that would give Isaac other ideas than she had an upset belly.
Isaac untied the mule, peered into her eyes a moment, then started down the trail.
What was he looking for when he stared at me? She contemplated this as she fell into step behind the mule. Her body shook with exhaustion. They’d only been hiking for over an hour. This was the part she hated the most about the curse. It made one feel weak and worthless. She put one foot in front of the other and ignored the cramps.
Another hour went by and Isaac stopped. He unhooked the canteen and handed it to her.
She drank her fill while he opened the food box and pulled out a handful of dried apples.
Isaac offered the apples in his open hand. She plucked several from his hand and ate them.
“Two more hours and we should arrive at the Trading Post. It’s in the middle of nowhere but there could be other people there.” Isaac peered into her eyes. “How do you want to be introduced?”
Alamayda stared at him. “What do you mean, how do I want to be introduced? Alamayda Wagner. That’s my name.”
“People will wonder and talk about you traveling alone with me.” He pushed his hat back, giving her more of his face to look at. “I could say we’re married and then no one will speculate.”
Her cheeks heated. He was a nice man and any woman would be pleased to marry him. The way he caused her heart to race when they touched, she was sure other women would swoon over his attention. But she wasn’t marrying. She didn’t want children, and she didn’t want a husband bossing her around. “I would prefer the rumors.”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw jutted out a bit. Several seconds later he spoke. “Are you sayin’ you’d rather get rumors spread about you than even pretend to be married to me?”
She put a hand on his chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart underneath. She’d riled him. “It’s not because you wouldn’t make a good husband. I’m sure lots of women would be flattered. I don’t want a husband. Real or pretend. I’ve had enough of taking care of people. This gold and gold mine is my freedom. A marriage doesn’t sound like freedom to me.”
Isaac put his hand over hers on his chest. “Allie, I only suggested it to keep your reputation safe and keep you safe.”
“Me safe?” She jerked her gaze from their hands to his face.
“Yes, you safe. If the men think you’re my wife, they’ll be more respectful toward you.” His gaze held concern.
“But that will mean you’ll have to sleep in the tent with me.” Right now was a bad time to be sharing a tent with him or any man.
“I’ll put up a barrier if you’re afraid I’ll see somethin’.”
She lowered her gaze to peer over his shoulder and think on his suggestion.
“Think about it and let me know what you’ve decided when we get to the tradin’ post.” He stepped away from her, grabbed another handful of dried apples, split it with her, and led the mule forward.
Alamayda nibbled on the apples and thought about his proposal. Do I want to be thought of as Isaac’s wife? It could be restricting, but he made sense saying other men would leave me alone. He knows I don’t plan to marry. The others way out here probably think any woman coming this way would marry and bed them. She scoffed. Bedding a man was the last thing she wanted. Her ma had told her that was how children were made. She wasn’t bedding any man. She raised her siblings, now it was her time to live the childhood she didn’t get.
She followed Isaac down the trail and was happy when the pains resided and she felt her strength gaining. He stopped after another hour but didn’t bring up the married subject.
Another hour and she heard the trading post before she saw it. Braying and children’s voices rang out above the bird calls.
Isaac stopped again. “What have you decided? Miss Wagner or Mrs. Corum?”
She studied his face. Her decision meant a lot to him. Why, she wasn’t sure. “Only because I don’t want the men pestering me, you may call me Mrs. Corum.” She held up a finger. “But pretending doesn’t mean you will have any husband privileges.”
He held up his hands. “That wasn’t on my mind. This way I won’t have to fight for your virtue.”
She cocked her head and asked, “What do you mean?”
“If you’d insisted on them knowing you were unmarried, I know of several of the miners who live on the mountain that would have paid you good money to make you their wife, or companion for the night. Which would have ended up with me having to fight our way out of here.”
“I would never!” she exclaimed. “And surely, the men would not find me attractive.”
“Up here they’d bed anything that was willing.”
Her face heated. She couldn’t stop the embarrassment and humiliation that flowed through her. He agreed she was uncomely.
“Allie, I didn’t mean.” Isaac strode to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “They’d want you because you are pretty. I only said they would bed anything because it’s the truth. A pretty woman like you, they’d be fallin’ all over themselves to catch your attention.”
“I know I’m not pretty. You don’t have to fib.” She batted back the tears burning behind her eyes.
Isaac tipped her chin up so her eyes gazed into his. “Allie, you are beautiful inside and out. It just takes getting to know you enough for you to let your true self show.”
Her heart raced in her chest and her head floated on her shoulders. Isaac thinks I’m beautiful!
No one had ever said she was pretty let alone beautiful. She stared into his eyes and witnessed he said what he felt. She’d read something once about the eyes were the doorway to someone’s soul. The honesty she saw sparkling in Isaac’s eyes made her chest ache.
Isaac’s finger left her chin, and his arm released her shoulders. He stepped away and grabbed the rope to the mule, heading down the path away from her.
Isaac strode toward the trading post. He had to put a bit of distance between him and Allie. He’d suggested she pretend to be his wife to keep the peace. He didn’t want to have to bruise his knuckles or use his rifle to keep her safe, but he would. Each hour he spent with the woman he felt his heart soaking her in. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. The scary part was knowing how all the other people he’d ever loved left him.
He understood her declaration to never marry. She’d already lived the life of a parent and provider. But how could she dismiss love and the companionship of a husband? Holding her just now and telling her she was beautiful, he’d meant every word. He’d seen many emotions on her face since they’d met. Some made her plain and as hard looking as a rock, others lit her up and made her eyes sparkle like stars. Allie was a unique woman and he was falling under her spell.
The trees and undergrowth gave way to a clearing. The stinging smoke of campfires and aromas of cooking met him as his gaze scanned the tents and teepees scattered about the clearing around the log trading post.
Haskell came to the area as a trapper years before he settled in the area with the trading post. He had trappers, Indians, and miners who used his clearing as a stopover. There looked to be one trapper tent, two miner’s tents, and four teepees. The teepees could belong to relatives of Haskell’s wife. Isaac didn’t find the Indians a threat. Most he’d ever met tended to mind their own business, but the Whitemen staying in the clearing he’d keep an eye out for.
Isaac stood at the edge of the clearing waiting for Allie to move beside him. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight while they were here.
Allie stepped up beside him. He grasped her hand and started forward. She didn’t pull from his grip.
“I’m guessing the teepees are Indians. Who are the tents?” Allie asked, her gaze travelling over the tents.
“From the looks of them, I’d say one trapper and the rest miners.” He stopped at the hitching post in front of the log building. “Just stay with me. We’ll find out who all is livin’ in the clearin’ right now.”
He led her up the steps to the heavy, half-a-log thick door. Isaac pulled the door open and ushered Allie in ahead of him. It was dark and stank of hides, bear grease, and unwashed bodies. Allie held her arm up against her nose.
“Isaac Corum! I didn’t think I’d see the likes of you here again!” bellowed Haskell.
Isaac strode forward with his hand on Allie’s back, propelling her down the aisle toward the proprietor.
“Haskell.” Isaac stuck out his hand and shook. The man’s hand was the same size as Isaac’s, but he squeezed with the strength of three men. Isaac kept his face immobile and drew his hand back as soon as the man released. He didn’t know why Haskell felt he needed to show his strength even with men who already knew him.
The man’s dark gaze fell on Allie. He smiled, showing yellow and brown teeth. “What have you brought back with you?”
Allie took a step back, bumping into Isaac’s chest.
“My wife. Allie, this is Haskell, the proprietor of the trading post.” Isaac put an arm around her shoulders, to show his possessiveness and to keep Allie calm.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Corum.” Haskell held out his hand.
Isaac turned Allie toward the side of the store with food and clothing. “Why don’t you see if Haskell has the items we need?”
Allie gazed in his eyes a moment then nodded. He watched her wander to the tables and shelves with food.
“Are you just passing through?” Haskell asked, his gaze watching Allie.
Anger grew in Isaac’s gut and squeezed his chest. The man needed to pay attention to something other than Allie. “I’m looking for ground to start a cattle ranch. Heard of anything that might work?” He maneuvered his body between Haskell and his sight of Allie.
“There’s some land about ten miles to the northeast of here I heard may be coming available. The owner has had some hard luck and is thinking of heading back East.” Haskell sat down on the tall chair he kept by the counter and money box.
Isaac nodded toward the door. “Looks like there are a few miners and a trapper here.” He watched Haskell. “Any of them going to give us any trouble?”
Haskell laughed. “You sure are a suspicious man.”
Allie stepped up beside Isaac. He heard her stomach grumble.
“We’d like to buy a meal if your wife has one ready,” Isaac said, putting his arm around Allie.
“Dreamer! Dreamer!” Haskell yelled.
A small Indian woman scurried into the store from a blanket-covered doorway. Haskell spoke to her in a language Isaac didn’t know. She bobbed her head and waved for Isaac and Allie to follow her.
Passing through the blanketed doorway his nostrils filled with the aroma of stew and fresh bread. Much more appealing than the smell in the store. They walked into a small living quarters. A large bed took up half the room. The other half was a large cookstove and table with benches.
The woman motioned for them to sit. She moved about the small area skillfully, filling two plates and pouring coffee into two cups.
Allie hesitated to sit. Her color was slowly returning. “I need to use the privy,” she said in a whisper.
“I’ll take you.” He stood.
“No. I can go—”
“Until I’ve met the other men staying here, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Isaac motioned to the Indian woman Allie needed to use the outhouse.
The woman smiled and waved him to sit.
“No. I’m going with her,” he said, holding Allie’s arm.
The woman scowled and slapped at his hand. Allie giggled.
“I go. You wait,” the woman said, motioning for Allie to follow.
Isaac waited until they walked out the door. He crossed the room in three strides and stood at the open door, watching the two women walk to the outhouse fifty feet from the back door. They had their heads together as if telling secrets.
Chapter Eighteen
Alamayda was happy to hear the woman speak English. On the way out to the outhouse, she told the woman her problem.
“I need a rag. I have the curse.” She peered into the woman’s eyes and could tell she didn’t know what she was talking about.
It went against her upbringing but she didn’t know how else to explain. Alamayda placed a hand down at the junction of her legs. Then pulled her hand away as if it had touched something bad. “Blood,” she said.