Ellen slipped off the tie holding her braid intact. “Mine as well. I should let it down to let it dry faster too.” Fluffing the damp strands, she added, “It’s longer than yours, meaning many more tangles at the end of the day.”
Del stepped closer to her. A dried, thin strand of her hair floated to him on the wind. He took the stray lock, entranced at how her hair cascaded to the small of her back. “Every evening before you slept, I would comb each inch of such beauty if necessary.” He rubbed the strands between his fingertips. “Mon Dieu, this is too soft to feel.”
“Oh?” She gave a quick look ahead before saying, “Let’s see yours as well.” She did as he had, touching his hair. “Very silky too. Is it so all along the strand?” Ellen let the pinch of his hair slide through her fingertips to where it ended just below his shoulders. “It is. I’d expected this to feel much like a horse’s mane. A lot of women would love to have hair this fine. You’re a very lucky man.”
His eyes narrowed. She had expected him to feel like an animal? A horse was a noble beast, but still an animal. Del’s affection for her closed in on itself like a morning glory in the afternoon. The next step he took was a few inches away from her as they walked. “Lucky, yes, but I’m not considered a man, remember.”
Before he could add to his comment, she put a hand on his arm. “But you obviously are. Anyone can see you’re very manly.” Ellen held on to him, pulling Del to a full stop. “Listen, the length of your hair doesn’t matter. I’ve seen many gentlemen with far longer manes and messier besides.”
He glanced at where she touched his shirt, entranced by her closeness. A slight breeze carried her scent to him. He wanted to help her by cleaning the dusty smudge on her glasses. When they stood together like this, he barely remembered why he’d been irritated. The memory flashed in his mind and he frowned. “When you hold me as you do now, I’m the animal you have called me.” Her shiver amused him as she let go. Maybe he should give her a solid reason to think of him as a true brute. Del leaned in to whisper, “If you ever let me maul you like the beast I am, you won’t regret it.”
She stared at him a couple of seconds, her mouth open until she closed it and shook her head. “No. I don’t suspect I would regret anything from you.”
“Ellen!”
Jack’s voice from ahead startled her and she jumped a little. “Yes, Pa! I’m on my way. Good day, Mr. Du Boise.”
Before he could reply, Mr. Winslow hollered, “You’ve spent enough time with the strays around here. Let’s get moving.”
Del turned to look at the retreating man. He refused to feel the little ache in his heart. Instead, he embraced the anger seeping through his body. Winslow might consider him the stray, but Del considered him to be the cur dog.
“Um, I’m sorry,” said Ellen as she slowed her pace away from him. “He’s just outspoken and doesn’t think about his words most times. Excuse me, please.”
He didn’t want to hear any more excuses for the rudeness. “Good day, Mademoiselle Winslow.” When she nodded before hurrying off, he gritted his teeth and swung onto his horse.
After riding a few miles further down the trail, Del’s head ached. Never before now had he let small minded people and their prejudices bother him. A few sometimes worked their way under his skin, irritating him, but none had left him so angry and helpless. He wanted to pester her until she admitted she disagreed with her father’s opinions. He discarded the idea. Pushing Ellen against her family served to only drive her away from him. He didn’t want that so soon, not until he’d found a reason to fall out of love with her.
He heard Sam ride up, recognizing Scamp’s hooves from the sound they made on the rocky ground. Del didn’t look at him when Sam said, “Have you thought about a trim? You’ve not cut that mess since university, I’ll bet.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, separating the strands so they’d dry faster. “It is not a mess. I keep myself neat.”
“You do. I’ll give you that.” They rode on for a while before Sam continued, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There is nothing to say. Monsieur has a small world. Too small to allow my humanity.” Each word hurt his heart to say as much as it had hurt his mind to think.
“His opinion is not the truth.”
“I know et merci for saying so.” He glanced over at Sam. “Practicality says I need to move on, not loiter around here with such meanness in people.”
Laughing, Sam asked, “What is telling you to loiter near Ellen?”
“My heart.” Del waited for a while but his friend had nothing to add. So much hovered unsaid between them. Silence never bothered him. In fact, he usually relished the quiet, but this time, he felt the words pulled from him as if some other being controlled his tongue. “She is both unremarkable and unforgettable. I wondered last night if she was merely the forbidden, if I wanted her only because Monsieur said no.” He shrugged. “But when I saw how she and the children fell into the water, I feared losing her to the river. Is it that she’s an enigma or my true love?”
“Miss Winslow? We are talking about her, correct?”
Del frowned, not liking the amusement he heard in his friend’s voice. “Of course. Who else?”
“No offence. She’s a sweet lady, one of the finest in our group. She’s so studious, so mannerly, and very much against the natives. Ellen has made it very clear her disdain for your people.”
More to himself than his friend, Del asked, “This woman, is she worth my convincing? Can she unlearn old habits?”
“Spending your time on wooing her is yours to decide. As for her low opinion of your kind, I suppose anyone could change their mind.” He paused while Scamp scrambled up an incline. “We’re going to need a guide along the Snake River. You could stay and see if Ellen’s affection is worth the effort.”
Grinning, Del retorted, “You’ve never needed a guide before, but when I think of her, I’m persuaded. Do you think the others will allow me to lead when necessary?” He drew up equal to Sam on the ridge, the dry creek bed below. “Not all are accepting.”
Looking back at the group following them, Sam squinted his eyes. “What they want at this point doesn’t matter as much as their safety.”
His eyebrows rose at his friend’s confidence. Del kept his own counsel. Sam must have been satisfied at the number of wagons because he clicked at Scamp to walk faster. With an accompanying nudge to Pomme, they kept up.
The sun cast a shadow to the east. Del unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves. The cool breeze refreshed enough from the midday heat to cause little chill bumps on his skin. They scouted so far ahead that Del heard the loose gravel crunch under their horses’ hooves instead of the wagons’ wheels. Topping a hill, he saw how the low, sage green hills hid a spring fed pond. He knew without asking they’d be stopping there for the noon meal.
They paused on the high ground. The low mountains loomed blue in the distance. The pond shimmered in the valley below, reflecting the sky while giving them a place to rest for lunch. The creek they’d been beside all day emptied into the larger pool of water. Their group rolled along the flat, wide creek bed. Sam and Del eased down the decline, steering their horses around the sage and clumps of yellow wildflowers. He spotted Marie alone and thought of a plan. Maybe Mrs. Warren could help him in courting Ellen.
Del stopped, surprised at the idea. Court? All of a sudden, his feelings for the girl seemed too much too soon. “Non,” he said to himself. He just wanted her to have a better opinion of him as a person. And possibly steal a few kisses too. Del stopped just short of laughing. “Sam, excuse me for un moment, s’il vous plait.”
“Of course,” said Sam over his shoulder.
He eased Pomme closer to the wagons, catching up with the lagging Marie. “Bonjour, madam.” He dismounted a few feet away from her. “Comment allez-vous?”
“Tres bien, merci. Et vous?”
“Bien, d’accord.” Hearing her speak his language was such a relief.
He knew he grinned like a fool. English was such work no matter how high his skill in it. Its difficulty must be why he felt tongue tied around Ellen. He glanced over to see Marie looking at him.
She grinned. “Penny for your thoughts, Adelard, as if I didn’t already know.”
Del shook his head. “I can’t admit to thinking of a certain woman.”
“Good, because I’d hate to see my friend hurt.”
Her statement took him by surprise. He knew some of what Ellen had said about him, but was there more? He had to know. “Hurt? How could I do that?”
“Probably in the same way she could hurt you.”
“Not possible.” The words that were so difficult to say to Sam still hurt when repeated. “I don’t regard her as a savage and sub-human.”
“It is possible. She’s beginning to care a lot for you.” Marie smiled at him. “She said a lot of complimentary things about you after the rescue. I’m not sure if she wanted me to tell you anything. She might want to give her opinion to you herself.”
His practical side warred with his romantic side. He had a chance? Del wanted to believe so but didn’t quite trust his new friend. He needed more information. “This discussion is somewhat futile. Her father has forbidden us to talk.”
“Do you think she’ll abide by his decision?”
He shrugged, wanting to be casual. “As much as she can, despite my tempting her.”
“Are you sure doing so is a good idea? I’d hate to see her punished for your actions.”
“As would I.” He held his hand out for her to hold, steadying her as she inched down a steep decline. “She’s in no danger, I can promise.”
She waited until he led his horse down as well. “Thank you for the reassurance.”
Lucky rode up to them and Del asked her, “We can continue this later?”
“Oui. I’d like that.”
Lucky spoke first. “Ma’am, Mr. Du Boise, we’re stopping at Emigrant Springs up ahead. Mr. Granville wants to make camp there this afternoon and tonight. He thinks it might be the last good water until Smith’s Fork.”
Del welcomed the chance to hunt and turned to Marie. “Madame, I see your family up ahead.” He swung up onto his horse and nodded. “Au revoir.” After turning north he spotted Sam and waved. When his friend returned the signal, Del knew he understood and nudged Pomme into a gallop. He’d need to get some distance between the emigrants and any possible game.
A couple of miles later he spotted a valley with more water than most. He grinned at the thought. Out here more water could mean as little as a handful. Wind from the north helped him decide to dismount and leave Pomme to graze what little grass there was. Del crept forward into the breeze, not wanting to startle any animals nearby. He hoped for a deer but would settle for anything. Step by step, Del inched closer to the muddy water. A clump of shrubbery grew on the east side. He watched the leaves to see if a hiding animal moved within them. Pausing, he slid an arrow from the quiver and detached his bow from where it rested. He loaded the arrow, ready. Del held the pose, moving only his legs to ease forward without a sound. A gust blew the smell of water to him. He breathed in deep, enjoying the aroma, and kept his eyes sharp for any sort of movement.
A rustle he saw more than heard moved the grass beyond the wind’s usual motion. The twitching nose of a rabbit poked out from the blades. Del held his breath, willing his heartbeat to slow. A minute later, the animal’s head stretched out to test for predators. Seemingly satisfied, the rabbit hopped forward to the muddy pond’s edge and bent to drink. Del quickly double-checked his aim.
The arrow shot through the animal’s head. Birds hidden among the branches flew away with a rush. After a few twitches, the body lay still. Del straightened from the slight crouch he’d instinctively adopted, certain a place like this would never have just one rabbit. Taking out an arrow, he loaded the bow and took a step forward. Another nose stopped him cold. He held his pose. As the second animal sniffed around the dead animal’s body, he secured his aim and fired. Both animals lay together. Del put up his bow, satisfied with the amount of meat. Overhunting made finding game difficult already. No need in him killing more than necessary and upsetting nature’s balance.
He picked up the animals, leaving in the arrows. Later he’d remove and wash them. Now, they made a handy way to carry the hunt. He sat astride Pomme and rode back to the camp. He kept a subtle watch for her but didn’t see Ellen at the pond or near the Granville wagons. Later, he hoped, knowing he needed to find a plausible reason to talk with her. He glanced around the camp. Sam wasn’t there, but his men were. Lefty sat against a wagon wheel while reading. Lucky and Arnold sat on the other wagon’s tailgate and played cards.
Uncle Joe knelt by the campfire, stoking it into a good flame. Catching sight of Del as he approached, the older man stood. “Looks like you have something for me to cook tonight. It’s early enough for a stew. We can each flay one and I can butcher them while you rinse the skin.”
Del held out one of the animals. “They’re so fresh, I haven’t had the chance to drain them.”
Taking the offering, Joe led him over to the lowered tailgate. “I figure some rice and dried peppers I’ve been saving might go good with the meat.” He hung up one of the rabbits by the back feet and began skinning the animal.
Spying a similar loop on the other side of the tailgate, Del did the same. After a few strategic cuts, both pulled off the pelt like a man pulled off his socks. A few minutes passed before he realized how quiet they were. He exchanged a rabbit for a pelt with Uncle Joe and put them in an empty pail. “I’ll wash these and return to help butcher.”
“Better hurry, these won’t take long,” Joe said, continuing his work.
He nodded, going to the pond with the two skins. Del rinsed out the blood since any left behind would stain the leather. He’d not thought to ask if Joe wanted the fur or just the skin. Either way, he wanted to return a perfect product since the man was doing the brunt of the work tonight. Once satisfied the flesh was clean, Del shook the excess water from the pelts. He placed them on grass high enough to keep them off the ground. Scrubbing the dried blood from the pail took little time, and soon he headed back to camp with fresh water and the furs.
After giving the work a quick examination, Joe said, “Good job, young man. I suspect you’ve done this a time or two.”
Del chuckled. “Yes, two, maybe more. Do you have the soak for them?”
“Not yet, but I have a plan.” He hopped in the wagon, careful to not upset the pot of rabbit meat. After some rustling around, he emerged with a large jar in hand. “This’ll do until I get the solution mixed.” Joe hopped to the ground. He packed the skins in the jar, filling the remaining space with the fresh water Del had brought. “There. I can start these soaking proper after dinner. I have some skins ready for pulling, so that’ll free up my good jar.” Del watched as Joe poured the rest of the fresh water into the stew pot. Dried peas and a few rice grains floated on top. “That little container is good, but my pickle jar keeps hides agitated enough I don’t have to check until time’s up.” Joe set the cook pot on the fire. “Boss told us you’d be along for at least a week, so they’ll be ready for you by then.”
“Thank you, but I have plenty. Keep them for yourself, s'il vous plait.” Seeing Joe’s frown, Del laughed. “I insist unless you have too many.”
“Naw, I could always use new fur for winter.” He put the jar back into the wagon properly. “Just wanted to be fair about it, since you shot them and all.”
“I appreciate your concern but know you are a connoisseur of fine pelts.” Del nodded toward his horse. “Excuse me, I must settle in Pomme for the night.” At Uncle Joe’s nod, he went to the animal, loosening and removing the saddle. He led Pomme to the pond for a drink then let him graze with the rest of the herd. Del kept watch for Ellen or one of her family members while on his errand but saw no sign of them. He returned to camp when done with his horse’s care, and spying Sam there,
he said, “The work is finished, dinner smells cooked, and you’re here. Your timing is impeccable as usual.”
Sam grinned at the jibe, setting aside his guidebook. “I did the difficult work of herding people.”
Uncle Joe laughed. “Sometimes, skinning rabbits sounds a lot better.” He stirred the food. “Eating time, boys.”
Lefty hopped up and distributed the dishes and cutlery to everyone. Each man held out his plate for Joe and then settled in to eat. The first bite made him glad he shared with the others. Del would have roasted the meat over an open fire. He glanced around, enjoying how they all focused on their own food.
Finished first, Lucky leaned forward. “Is there more?”
Joe nodded. “Another half round for everyone, I’d guess.” He dished up more for Lucky and the men as they held out their plates. Serving himself last, he set aside the pot to cool.
Arnold nudged Lucky and asked, “Reckon we get to wash up?”
“Probably,” the other man replied and began rounding up the plates and forks.
Lefty stood, using his good arm to give Arnold the dishes. “I’ll make sure the stock is secure for the night.”
As the three younger men departed, Joe eased to his feet. “I have some mending to do. No sense in putting it off until tomorrow.”
Del glanced up at the sky as the man rummaged around in the wagon. High clouds reflected the setting sun’s orange light, giving everything a bright glow. The fire’s warmth in front of him and Sam kept the cool night air at bay. He stared into the flames, hoping Marie stopped by for a visit this evening. She was a lovely woman. He hoped to talk about Ellen, his infatuation leading him to ask everything Marie might know about her. Maybe learning more details, unsavory ones in particular, would cure him of this interest he had. “Will we have evening guests?”
“Not formally.” Sam paused, then grinned. “I’ve spoke to a few who might stop by to see what ground we’re covering tomorrow.”
Lucky and Arnold returned, distracting them both. Arnold hung up the pail and retrieved his journal. Lucky put away the dishes then reappeared from the tail end of the wagon with an instrument case and polish rag. Soon, both were busy, one writing, the other buffing fingerprints from his bugle.
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