She was in luck, finding not only a towel, but a bar of soap and a metal pan to hold some water. The stream was a few hundred yards from their campsite and seemed isolated. There was still a chill to the air this early, but Ginny didn't think her chances of washing up would wait until it warmed up. So she removed as much clothing as possible without revealing all her charms, filled the basin with water, and began to wash the more crucial areas of her body.
She started with her feet, which were not only dirty, but smelled of sweat. Working her way up her body, she was happy to remove the grit that had accumulated under her breasts and in her armpits. The face and neck were next. When her body was as clean as it would get without an actual bathtub or shower, she bent over the stream and got her hair wet.
Few things in life creeped Ginny out more than dirty, stringy hair. As she scrubbed the hard soap enough to get a lather, she thought back to her first adventure. After being kidnapped by the dirty lowlanders, she could still picture the filth, the hair so dirty it looked like dreadlocks. The smell of so many unwashed bodies that one could hardly draw breath. Although she admitted that sometimes she missed the warmth of Ian's body, she definitely did not miss the poverty and desperation.
After rinsing the soap off, Ginny got out her brush, which was one of the few items in her bag, along with a change of undergarments and one other skirt and shirt. Ginny had every intention of wearing the new clothing today, in order to appear somewhat clean when she met Colby's family.
With the rhythmic brushing of her long locks, Ginny began thinking about Colin. Her previous husband, in Regency England, was still a bit of a sore point. No, she hadn't fallen in love with him yet, but she knew she was close. He was a very good match for her personality, although her temperament was ill-suited for the time period. Regardless of the level of society she got to enjoy, being a second class citizen would have worn thin after a while.
Still, they had just reached an understanding in their relationship that would have led to happiness for them both. Sighing quietly, she stared at the running stream, wondering “what if.” As is often the case, “what if” always led to a sense of depression, which, although she had no control, Ginny felt that she could have done something more or different.
She lost track of time sitting there, watching the stream. So deep in her thoughts, she didn't hear her husband walk up beside her.
*******
Colby woke with a start. It took him a moment to realize that it was Tim's snoring that startled him awake. Moving to lie on his back, putting his arm behind his head, he stared for a moment at the lightening sky. He was surprised that he woke so early, since he'd only returned to the campsite a few hours earlier.
He and Naomi had spent a few hours together, before she told him that she really did have work to do. It was nice, but Colby had to admit that he was picturing his wife's face most of the time. After leaving Ma Belle's he rode his horse through town for another couple of hours. He used the time to analyze the strange feelings he was having.
Colby couldn't be feeling guilty. After all, he hadn't truly married Ginny. Not to mention, they had made a bargain to keep things professional and not get tangled up together. So, what was it? He could be feeling guilty about being selfish and leaving her and Tim alone for the evening. He quickly squashed that idea. It had been months since he was with a woman and denying his needs would have made him even more ornery.
He thought about his conversation with Naomi. She had suggested that he be nicer to his “wife.” Although he knew he should, he wondered how long before she said or did something to irritate him again. He was never the most understanding person. His mother used to tease him about his self-righteousness, always reminding him to walk a few steps in the another man's shoes.
Colby got himself up, not resolving anything except his need to empty his bladder. Once standing, he realized that Ginny wasn't in her bed roll. Scrunching his eyes together in confusion, he wondered if she had taken off. They were only a few miles from a city that she could effectively hide in. Walking over to the cart, he noticed that her bag was gone. Cursing softly, he wandered to the trees to pee. Then he would saddle his horse and go off looking for her.
Dammit, he thought to himself at the trouble she was putting him through. Didn't he just say to Naomi how she would be more trouble than she was worth. He might have just let her go, but he was five dollars poorer because of her, and he wasn't about to let that go. As he walked quickly to the stream to get a drink and wash up, he saw her sitting by the shore running her brush through her hair, but not paying it any attention. She was staring at the water looking so lost in thought that he wondered if she would even hear him approach.
He was practically standing on top of her, and she still didn't notice him. What could she be thinking about?, he wondered. She claimed to know nothing about herself, a victim of some amnesia. And yet, she was clearly working through something in her head.
Then, Colby noticed her expression. She looked so sad, so lost, that it nearly broke his heart. Her face looked like a small child, despairing over some loss. He was about to ask her what was wrong when he noticed that she was only wearing her slip, and it was practically see-through. Even after spending the evening with a beautiful and experienced woman, he felt himself harden at the sight of her full, plump breasts pushing against the taut fabric.
He stooped quickly next to her, alerting her finally to his presence. She didn't realize her state of undress, because she turned toward him, giving him a better view of her breasts. Raised to be a gentleman, he turned his head and stared at the stream.
“You're up pretty early, Ginny,” he said, continuing his stare anywhere but her chest.
“I wanted to get cleaned up. Tim said we should be able to reach the ranch today. I didn't want to look filthy.” Ginny's voice was robotic and flat. After so much introspection, she didn't have it in her to spar with him.
Colby considered admitting that he thought she had taken off on him, but decided against it. He was vulnerable enough around her without calling attention to it. Coughing against his discomfort, he said, “Well, we should get going soon. I was just going to clean up a bit myself then start loading the cart. We still have to stop in Cheyenne for supplies, then we'll be on our way. I don't expect to reach the ranch until after nightfall, so you may not meet my family 'til tomorrow.” Colby forced himself to stop babbling.
Ginny noticed his discomfort and dismissed it. As far as she was concerned, it meant little. She stood up, grabbed her things and walked toward the woods to change. She turned and caught him staring at her as she departed. Perplexed, she entered the woods with her supplies and pulled out her clean clothing. As she began to change, she noticed her near nakedness. A smile crossed her face as she realized why he was uncomfortable. It wasn't because he had slept with a whore last night, but because he noticed her. She began laughing, finally breaking her from her funk. As silly as it was, it was exactly what she needed to keep going.
*******
Returning to camp, Ginny saw that Tim was up and making a pot of what looked like oatmeal. Colby was busy preparing the horses and wouldn't look in her direction. Smiling, she said her good mornings to Tim.
“Good morning to you too, Ginny, “ Tim smiled and continued his cooking. After packing her bag on the cart, Ginny went about rolling up the bed rolls and filling the canteens.
After breakfast, they were off once again for a seemingly never-ending ride. Ginny just didn't have the patience for this kind of slow going. Living in the 21st century spoiled a person. She liked that she could get anywhere in the world within a day. She could drive across the valley in an hour (obviously not during rush hour). She liked that she could go to one of the seven grocery stores within five miles of her house and get anything she wanted for dinner. Spoiled.
They picked up their supplies, and now Ginny was crammed into the back of the cart with crates of tools, fabrics, and household goods. At least she could sit on one of th
e crates, which was just slightly more comfortable than sitting on the floor of the wagon.
Morning turned into afternoon, and Colby once again kept his thoughts to himself. Tim would point out landmarks and views of interest to Ginny, trying to keep her from falling asleep sitting up and falling over the side of the wagon. They stopped only a handful of times for bathroom breaks and to eat lunch. Each time, Colby would disappear into the woods and not return until it was time to move on.
As the sun was setting, Tim and Colby discussed whether they should push on or camp one more night.
“We made great time from Denver to Cheyenne. Nobody would expect us home tonight anyway,” Colby said.
Tim looked uncomfortable. “Colby, nobody knows the pass like you do. We could press on and make it tonight. I miss Eloise something fierce.”
“We have a loaded cart. It could be dangerous in the dark,” Colby was hedging. He knew he could make it, but didn't want to get home yet. With something close to embarrassment, he didn't want to admit that he wasn't ready to show his family the real reason he left them several days earlier. Only Tim and Eloise knew that he had planned on buying a wife.
“Please, Colby. With Eloise expecting, I just want to get home as soon as possible.” Tim's face was forlorn and Colby didn't want to cause him more pain.
“Alright Tim, we'll press on. But if I think it's too unsafe, we stop. Agreed?”
“Agreed. What do you think, Ginny?” Tim turned in the seat at the front of the cart and looked at her.
“I'm fine either way, guys. I wouldn't mind getting out of this cart, but am willing to put up with it for a little while longer in the hopes of more comfortable accommodations tonight.” Ginny smiled when she said it, but since Colby wouldn't turn around, he missed it.
“What makes you think your accommodations at my home will be so much more comfortable?” he asked, sounding surly.
Tim immediately came to the rescue. “I don't think that's what Ginny meant, Colby. I don't think she expects a palace or anything.” Tim chuckled, trying valiantly to stop the coming storm that he saw on his friend's face.
Ginny remained quiet. She was interested in how this would play out. Colby was ready to fight and after sitting in the back of the cart all day, so was she.
Colby stirred the pot a little more by saying, “How do you know what she expects, Tim. You know her as well as I do.”
“How do you expect to know anything about me when you act like a child and refuse to talk to me?” Ginny kept her voice even, but it was obvious that she had every intention of shaking the bee hive.
Colby stopped the cart and turned fully in his seat to look at her. His face showed fury, pent up and boiling over. Apparently, he had been seething all day and this was just the type of conversation to let his anger loose on. “How would I get to know you? According to you, you don't even know yourself. Why would I waste my time talking to you when you couldn't answer a damn question anyway?”
Ginny's eyes narrowed, and she responded through clenched teeth. “I know enough to answer any question your simple mind could come up with. No, I don't remember my past, but I do remember how to treat people and act like a civilized person. I also remember telling you that I didn't expect anything from you except a fair chance to pay back my debt and get the hell away from you!” Ginny couldn't believe how upset she was getting. How could she get so caught up in these lives every time? Why couldn't she just lay back and enjoy the ride?
The look on Colby's face spoke of physical violence. Ginny flinched, as much as she hated herself for doing so. Colby noticed and was suddenly appalled with his behavior. He may be a simple rancher, but he was also a gentleman. He would never hit a woman out of anger or for any reason for that matter. Embarrassed, he got out the wagon and walked ahead a few dozen yards. He let his anger dissipate and waited a few minutes until he could trust himself again. He could hear Tim apologizing for him, again. After a few minutes, he walked back, climbed into the cart and drove off without another word. Even Tim was smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself, allowing Colby his time to settle down and get them all home.
It won't be too bad, Tim thought to himself. After a couple of months, they'll get along just fine. Tim hoped he was right, or he was probably going to be stuck in the middle until Ginny either left or killed Colby.
Chapter 8
Ginny sat quietly in the back of the cart as they made their way through a small trail between tall trees. In the fading light, Ginny got her first glimpse of the valley where they were headed. Surrounded by mountains to the north and west, the valley seemed to go on forever to the east.
They were coming south, through a mountain pass that could only accommodate one vehicle, but Colby seemed to be very familiar with it. Even in the limited light, he adjusted the cart perfectly, anticipating turns and drops in the road. He had the sure hand of someone who had taken this path many times before.
Once they had made their way into the valley, it was a straight shot to the only lights to be seen for miles. The moon was not full, so Ginny had little light to get a sense of the surroundings, but she could see several buildings, only a few of which were lit.
As if anticipating her, Tim explained, “That's Sherman. Small town, needless to say. We've got a mercantile, a top notch livery and feed store, and even a dress shop. There's the saloon, too. Some of the supplies in the back are for the folks in town. Then there's a bank that also doubles as a post office. Oh, and of course the sheriff's office and jail. We don't have much use for them too often.”
“Are the other buildings homes then?” Ginny asked, liking the break in silence as they made their way across the valley.
“That's right. Well, except for the church. You go to church, Ginny?”
Did she? She didn't know, but figured she'd better. God knew she could use all the help she could get. “I haven't in a while, but I would like to. Is the minister nice?”
Tim chuckled a bit. “Well, he's very... what would you call it, Colby?”
“Pious.” Colby was a man of few words, but at least he answered.
“Yeah, pious. He figures he knows how everyone should live and doesn't hesitate to let you know how that should be.”
Ginny was about to tell a story, but knew that it would only make Colby more suspicious. It had been Ginny's experience that when someone is so sure he's right about something, especially religion, it usually meant he wasn't walking the walk himself. How many ministers in the 21st century had to confess to adultery, drugs, or general bad behavior? Ginny had to wonder what the minister of Sherman was up to.
The dirt road entered the town, and Colby turned east toward the livery. As they approached, Colby finally spoke to Ginny. “I want you to stay in the cart. I have to drop off some supplies to Noah and I don't want to do any introductions tonight.”
Ginny closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Why did he have to sound so obnoxious? “Sure,” was her only reply. If Colby could keep to one word answers, so could she.
Stopping the cart, Tim and Colby got out and picked up several crates. Ginny watched from the cart as they stacked the crates outside a set of barn doors, then walked up to the door of a home next door. She couldn't make out the conversation, but heard some laughter. Then Colby and Tim disappeared inside the home, leaving her alone in the dark.
Nice, she thought as she sat, not necessarily scared, but not precisely comfortable either. Even as she thought to get out and stretch her legs, a man walked out of the darkness and approached the cart.
“Hey, there, mishy. What's a lady doing all by hershelf in the dark?”
Ginny's heart caught in her throat for a moment, having been shocked by his appearance. Then she realized by the little light coming from the livery, that he was a little old man, who was extremely drunk.
Ginny smiled, no longer feeling any threat. “How do you do?” she asked.
“I'm fine. Do you have anyshing we can drink?”
“I only have wa
ter in my canteen, but I doubt that's what you meant.”
“Nah. Do you have any money for a poor, lost shoul in need of a drink? That awful Mr. Pratt kicked me out of his est... estab... shaloon.”
Ginny was trying hard not to laugh. This man was a perfect caricature of a town drunk. The slurring of words, the clothing, the smell all seemed too spot on to be realistic. It was characters like this one that let Ginny know she was definitely living in a novel.
“I'm sorry, but I don't have any money. I'm Ginny, by the way. And you are?” Ginny prompted.
“I'm Henry. I've lived here my whole life.” Henry made a sweeping gesture that nearly knocked him on his knees.
“I'm pleased to meet you, Henry. Are you hungry? We have some leftovers from lunch. You look like you could use some food.” Ginny wasn't kidding. Henry's face was cadaverous, and his clothing seemed to hang from his bones. Ginny didn't doubt that he had cirrhosis. If the light were better, she'd bet he'd be yellow skinned.
A Lesson in Patience Page 5