“You figured right.” He sat back a little from the fire. “It’ll be easier leaving them out if there’s nothing to tell, correct?”
Catching his hint, she nodded. “Correct. I will always do whatever I have to do in order to have nothing of that nature to tell.” Inwardly, she sighed. Every time she was nervous, she used far too many words.
“Well, good night.”
“Good night.” She took the dismissal and sat on her bedroll to record today’s events. Ellen tried to keep from smiling. She was sure Pa had read her journal hoping to catch her in a lie. She scribbled down the day’s events, drawing the distant mountains and other scenes from the day. Upon hearing her father’s light snore, she tore a blank page from the back of the journal.
She turned over the little book to use the back as a smooth surface. Glancing at a sleeping Pa and Lucy every so often, she drew a small picture of Del. Ellen bit her lip when done, trying not to laugh at her effort. Ah well, drawing him was fun no matter how poorly done. She wrote his name a few times, some fancy, others in block letters. She even sketched him on his horse. When the page was full on the front and back, she poked it on the end of a stick and pushed it into the embers. The paper flared. She stirred the coals and paper, making sure every little bit burned to ashes. Once finished, she lay back on her bedroll and looked up at the stars. Infatuation with the forbidden was one thing, allowing evidence of it was quite another.
The morning dawned warmer than many before now. Ellen struggled to stand and grimaced over the picture she must present. The rocks and hills they’d traveled the day before yesterday had taken their toll on her body. The others still slept. If they felt as bad when waking as she did now, coffee and food would help. She moved slower than usual while slipping on her shoes, grabbing a pail, and limping. Others seemed tender footed too, and she almost laughed at herself and them. Who knew the term tenderfoot was a real thing? Next, they’d all be growing green horns from their skulls and be true greenhorns. She chuckled at that, kneeling on the matted reeds. Someone doing the same to her left caught Ellen’s eye.
Del grinned at her while filling his own water bucket. “Good morning. It’s pleasant to hear a laugh so early, especially yours.”
“Thank you.” She stayed at his level, returning his smile. “I was thinking what tender footed tenderfeet we are and how next we’ll be green horned greenhorns too.”
“No wonder you laughed. Green horns, like Vikings only without hats.”
She laughed. “Exactly!” As he stood, she tried to as well. Very unsteady, she wobbled and swayed toward the water. Del held out his hand and she grabbed hold of him. “Thank you. I’m not ready for a bath just yet. Not until after breakfast anyway.”
“My pleasure, ma coeur.” He grinned. “I could help you bathe. It’s no trouble.”
She gasped and then saw the humor in his eyes. Ellen said, “What a kind offer, Mr. Du Boise.” His skin warmed where they touched, and she slipped from his grasp in case others watched them together. “I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever unable to bathe myself.”
His eyebrows rose. “Merci beaucoup. Um, I mean yes, I’d be happy to help.”
Ellen chuckled, taking a couple of steps back toward camp. “Sure you will, though I might be very elderly before needing you.”
“I can wait, if you’ll allow.”
She glanced up into his face. Such a hard, lean man with a hint of vulnerability in his expression warmed her heart. She could learn to love someone like him. Realizing how others in their party passed by, Ellen knew her cheeks must be red by now. “There’s no need to, not just for me.”
“Only for you. Always.”
His words shook her and stole the air from her lungs. He had her tongue-tied and Ellen could only mutter, “Yes, well, thank you.” She turned, fleeing before Del might say anything else that kept her talking with him. Pa could read her too well and if he walked by, heaven help them both from his fury.
Once away from him, her feet hurt again. She grinned. He was quite a distraction for her to forget the aches. Everyone in her family still slept, so she worked as quickly and quietly as possible. Swinging up into the wagon, she rooted around in the bed, wincing at every loud sound she made. She found the coffee, but the sugar remained out of reach. Just as well, she almost muttered. Pa would have a break from telling her how unnecessary sugared coffee was. She eased back down to the ground. The soles of her feet tingled with pain, and she almost groaned aloud. Was every foot ache going to remind her of Del, now? She grinned at the thought and began building a fire.
She scraped away the damp wood from last night with a rock and started a small fire in the resulting pit. She placed a pail of water with coffee beans on the hook when the flames leaped to life. As low as the fire burned, she had time to milk their cows. She worked fast, breakfast aroma from other camps making her hungrier. Once done, she went back and set the full pan next to the wagon.
Her father and Lucy drank their coffee while cuddled up to the campfire. “We saved you some,” Pa said between slurps.
She looked, seeing a few beans and about half a cup remaining. Taking a deep breath and working to avoid any trace of sarcasm, she said, “Oh, thank you.”
Pa gave her a warning glare and retorted, “We didn’t have to save you a God damned thing, so watch your tone.”
“No, sir, I really do appreciate it. You didn’t have to save me anything, and I can always make more.” She smiled at him so he’d believe her and emptied the remains in her cup, beans too. “Or maybe not, since the fire is already out. That makes this doubly welcome this morning when there’s a slight chill to the air, so thank you.” She grimaced at her babbling and drank the coffee in nearly one gulp, keeping a bean to chew on as she packed up their camp.
Pa left without a word and she followed. Helping her father with the oxen, she stayed quiet while they worked. He walked away and she went to the back of the wagon to get a pail. The cows might need a little milking, even after last night’s session, and having butter at dinner tonight might cheer up everyone. She settled in to work, knowing her father was right about her being grown. She also agreed that he’d done his job in raising her. Every day she stayed with him and Lucy reminded her of how she took away from his new family. Ellen sighed as she finished up with the first cow. She needed her own family or at least her own home. She went to the other cow and began work. The desperate need to marry anyone Pa chose took over her mind again but this time felt different than before. This time, her feelings for Del wouldn’t stay suppressed.
Ellen stood with the pail and shook the growing affection for him from her head. How she felt about the man didn’t matter. She wanted a true home. She’d not seen him carry a wigwam on his horse. Did he always sleep out in the open? Did he follow the birds and butterflies and head south for the winter? Or did he just sleep under a blanket of snow? Not for the first time was she glad they at least had a wagon in rough weather at night.
She reached camp to find her stepmother had the cooking items cleaned and packed. She grinned at the pleasant surprise then went about emptying the milk into a jar and sealing the lid. They’d have bits of butter for biscuits tonight, if the road was rough enough. Lucy washed the baby’s face as Skeeter jumped up and down. Seeing Ellen, he ran to her. “Ellie! Ellie! We saw your indun friend getting water! He had his horse and it was drinking too! I said hi and he waved back at me!”
His mother took the older boy’s face, wiping jelly from around his mouth. “Now, now, Skeeter, that man is not Ellen’s friend. Your father doesn’t want her being friends with an Indian or he’ll come and steal everything we own. That’s what they do.”
“She’s right, sweetie. He can’t be my friend. Daddy said so.” Ellen’s breath caught at a feeling of lying to her brother. “Maybe we’ll let him be an acquaintance until he rides away to his people.”
“Away with our belongings and some of the women,” Lucy muttered.
Ellen’s temper flared a
little. “We’ll see. For now, we’ll be polite, but not encourage him, all right? That way, we’re doing as Pa says and not being so rude as to anger him into a warpath or something. All right?” She glanced at Lucy who nodded her approval.
“Yes, ma’am.” A few kids running by caught his eye. “Ma?”
“Yes, of course.” As he ran to catch up, Lucy turned back to Ellen and added, “I’m glad you’ve seen sense.” The older woman picked up her baby. “Talking with a native is a very foolish thing to do. No matter how like us he seems, you have our safety to consider. I like my scalp where it is.”
She chuckled at the idea of Del being so primitive. “So do I. And I do want to obey Pa. I’m not encouraging him at all but don’t want to avoid Marie if she’s chatting with him.”
“Hmm. You might want to consider not being her friend if she continues to associate with such people.”
“I’d prefer to keep our friendship no matter who she talks to, Ma.”
Lucy sighed, putting a hand to her own forehead before shifting Buster to her other hip. “Don’t be difficult, Ellen. Buster is sickly and I don’t feel well. Besides, it doesn’t matter what you’d prefer. If your father decides you need to stop being friends with someone who accepts such people, you’ll stop. He’ll tolerate Mr. Granville’s association because being nice to the brute keeps us safe. He’ll not extend the same courtesy to you.”
“Very well. When Marie is near him, I’ll avoid her. Otherwise, I’ll keep her as a friend.”
Lucy nodded. “A compromise we’ll be able to live with, I’m sure. I’ll talk to your father and help him see this is a good idea. He wouldn’t want you to snub Marie entirely, seeing as how influential her husband is.”
Ellen smirked. If she accidently saw Del once in a while, that could hardly be helped, could it? Like this morning at the creek, where his shirt hadn’t been buttoned up all the way. Not that she’d noticed, of course. She’d been too busy. Besides how proper his clothes were now, hadn’t his heroics at the Green River been enough? She considered him a friend after he’d saved Skeeter and Buster. Never mind her and Lucy, his hurry to jump in after the boys endeared him to her. A tickly, butterfly feeling began in the pit of her stomach. He’d looked grim when reaching for her brothers first, seeming reluctant to leave her behind. She replayed the scene in her mind, unsure if she’d seen fear for her safety in his eyes after all.
The road grew more and more rocky, disrupting her thoughts. All her concentration went to avoiding the sharper of the stones after one bruised the side of her foot. The loose rocks made going up and down the hills treacherous. Several stumbled along with her and she saw how a few inventive souls used walking sticks. By noon, the bottoms of her feet hurt even more than the scuffed side.
She heard the order to stop just as she stepped on another sharp stone. Ellen lifted her skirt and shoe. The sole was worn almost through. Another day or two and she’d be touching the ground. Lucy already had leather strips lining her shoes’ soles. Ellen considered herself lucky to have gone this far without having to do the same. She hurried to their wagon for lunch, keeping a better watch of where she stepped.
Lucy had the lunch basket open on the lowered tailgate. The boys munched as if it were the last meal. She gave Ellen a couple of biscuits and began putting away the water bucket. “Have you heard anything from Mr. Granville or his friend about the trail ahead?”
Ellen’s guard went up, wary the question might mean more than its surface seemed. “I didn’t get a chance to really talk with anyone today. The last time I even saw Mr. Granville was a few glimpses this morning.”
“I’m assuming that’s when you saw that Mr. Du Boise too?”
She ignored her irritation. Ellen knew Lucy was fishing for information. She couldn’t lie very well but needed to omit details. “I saw him then and a couple of times since.” She shrugged. “He’s ridden by a few times for some sort of reason. I don’t know why because I’ve never spoken to him to ask.”
The woman nodded in satisfaction. Once she went out of sight, Ellen sighed with relief that her stepmother didn’t see through the lie about seeing him while getting water. Before she could say such things, she needed to believe them herself. Still, the twinge of guilt by lying from omission bothered her. Placing things in the wagon, she turned over the feeling in her mind. Maybe Del was the answer to her parents’ problems. Maybe she should encourage him. Pa might disapprove, but marrying a savage would reduce her father’s burden.
A little tremor fluttered in her heart. The feeling alarmed her a little with how appealing it was. She’d seen him shirtless, so the image of him this morning with his shirt unbuttoned captivated her yet again. Ellen shook her head a little. No, no dwelling on this now, but maybe later tonight. The flutter began again. She must be overtired. How else to explain this oddness?
The wagon began moving. From force of habit, she checked to see where Skeeter was. He walked with his mother as she carried the toddler. Ellen walked behind the wagon, lost in thought. Even if she had a suitable man courting her, she had nothing to offer. She had nothing to furnish a new home even if someone bothered to marry her. Her formerly full hope chest now held the family’s rations. All of her books except for the Bible and her journal, the linens, dishes, and everything of her mother’s had been sold or left behind in Ohio. Each step she took strengthened her resolve to teach school and earn her own way in life. That way, no one could ever again tell her what to keep and what to leave behind.
By late afternoon, they’d travelled only six miles to stop at what seemed an Eden in the desert. The stream deepened, flowing fast and clear, while remaining shallow. The sun shown high in the afternoon sky, causing her to wonder why the wagons set up in a semi circle around an oxbow bend in the river. She walked to the bank and knelt to take a drink. The icy water tasted refreshing. If not for the chill, Ellen would have swum off some of the dust covering her. She took off a boot, testing the water with her toe. Wincing, she tried to put in her entire foot but couldn’t bear the cold.
“Ellen!” Jenny ran over to her. “Isn’t this lovely? Like an oasis in the Sahara! Mr. Granville wants us to stay here for the night and fatten up the stock.” Spotting Ellen putting on her shoe, she asked, “How is the water? Is it as refreshing as it looks? I’m dying for a real bath.”
“It’s freezing, but good. I had a drink and tried to make myself wade around” She said as her friend stripped off her shoes and socks. “Are you sure you want to do that? It’s very cold.”
“I won’t mind. This’ll feel good after all the sharp rocks I’ve trod on today and yesterday.” The younger girl eased into the water. She squealed as each inch covered first one foot, then the other. Walking around the sandy and pebbly bottom, she said, “You’ll get used to it after a little while. The ground feels good too.” She bent over, putting her hands in the water. “I might try to swim or at least wash my hair.”
“Washing sounds like a great idea. If we’re to be here overnight, I want to wash clothes and get the musty smell out of the bedding.” Ellen turned to the wagon a few steps before calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be back and bring you some bath soap.” She grinned hearing her friend’s laughter.
Once loaded down with laundry and soap, she made her way back to the stream. A small crowd had gathered, also doing their wash. Children played upstream, ducking and splashing. Some women kneeled on the bank and scrubbed. A few, like Jenny, stood in the stream itself, letting their skirts fall into the water. Snow capped mountains provided a poetic backdrop to the scene. For Ellen, the water hadn’t warmed much since flowing from the top. The sun shone hot on her back, so she peeled off her shoes.
“Just jump in!” Jenny yelled. “Don’t be chicken!”
Ellen shouted back, “I’m not!” Gathering her skirt in one hand, she jumped. The sand gave way, causing her to slip and sit. She screamed a laugh, hind end flat on the creek bed. Icy water came up to her neck, too cold for her to even breathe.
> “Oh my goodness!” Jenny ran over to her, splashing Ellen and hoisting her up by the arm. “Are you all right?”
After a few pants to get her breath, she laughed. “Yes, I think so. Just cold and surprised.”
“Maybe I should have said ease in?”
“I think so.” The girls laughed. Ellen asked, “Is it my turn to dunk you?”
“Oh no!” Jenny held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll go swimming soon enough!” She scrambled to the bank. “Let me get our laundry. We can wash together, and I promise to sit like you did.” She shook her head. “Poor girl!”
“Go already.” Ellen waved her off, smiling. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’re done and dry.” As her friend went off in search of dirty clothes, Ellen began scrubbing. Marie’s dress was her top priority. She bent, dunking it and washing out the dirt. Once satisfied it was clean, she spread it out over the marsh grasses on the bank. She considered washing her hair with it still damp. Doing so now would give it time to dry by bedtime. The sun edged ever closer to the western horizon. Bedding could wait for a proper washday. Having clean clothes and hair would be such a luxury.
She pulled out the pins, putting them and her glasses in her shoes. Ellen leaned way out, setting the items as far from the bank as she could reach.
“We’re back!”
Looking up, she saw Jenny and Del standing in front of her. Without her glasses, they were a blur, and Del squatted so she could see him.
“Hello, care to do my washing too?”
She laughed. “As much as I’d love to do your work as well as my own, I must decline.”
He grinned at her sarcasm. “Ah, well, cannot blame me for asking.” Lifting up the clothes he held and indicating Marie’s dress with a nod, he said, “Our friends’ needs have priorities over our own washings, no?”
“I suppose they do,” agreed Ellen.
Jenny stepped gingerly into the water. “Goodness! I’ll have to get used to this all over again!” She took a few steps away from Ellen. “Oh dear, I’ve forgotten my wash. Mr. Du Boise, I hate to trouble you, but could you bring over my laundry for me?”
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