“Of course.” He set Jenny’s basket down in front of her. “Anything else, mademoiselle? I am your servant.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Well, I did notice Ellen’s shoes are just sitting there. If someone should step on them, they’d crush her glasses and then where would she be?”
Ellen protested, “They’re fine where they are.”
He glanced at her and shrugged. “I have an idea.” Del unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off. Laying out the red gingham, he took her shoes and placed them on top. “There. No one will step on them now. The color warns them away.”
Jenny went back to washing as if a half naked savage stood in front of her every day. A deep pink cast to her face gave away her embarrassment. Ellen couldn’t think. Although he was out of focus, he still appealed to her. She could see the shadows his muscles made. He was slender and a little stouter than she’d expected. Ellen looked down at the water, a little panicked. In no way could she let anyone see her talking to him when he was in such a state. She felt desperate to stare at him, yet duty must win. “Excuse me, I must wash my hair.”
“Good idea!” Jenny clapped her hands then grasped for the garment flowing out of reach. “I dislike sleeping on wet hair. Don’t you, Mr. Du Boise?”
He chuckled. “I’ve never considered how I felt about such a thing. Sometimes it cannot be helped.”
Ellen backed away, using his distraction with Jenny to escape. Pulling pins from her hair, she placed them on Marie’s dress. She heard Del chatting and listened with half an ear. While unbraiding her hair, she walked around, enjoying the feel of the smooth stones on her feet. She sat facing the oncoming current. The water didn’t feel as cold now. Leaning back, she let her hair flow downstream and closed her eyes.
“You have the fair face, but not the madness of fair Ophelia, ma coeur.”
Gasping, Ellen opened her eyes to see Del standing above her. “Oh my! We can’t talk.”
“I know.” He knelt, washing Sam’s shirt. “I am too busy to chat with you. And you are too busy washing your délicieux hair.”
She laughed at his word choice. “Delicious? My hair is delicious?”
“Yes, it is.” He squeezed water from his friend’s shirt. “I can know this without a taste.”
“You are so silly and we can’t speak at all. I’ve been forbidden, remember?” She stood, went to the bank, and took a little bar of soap. Ellen turned to find a solid seat on the riverbed and almost ran into him. “Oh, goodness gracious! Del, honestly, if I’m seen with you like this, my father will be furious.”
He shrugged. “So? Stay out of my way.” The naughty glint in his eyes belied the curt words.
“How can I when you’re such a mountain of a man. Honestly, you’re taller than I am. How can anyone avoid you?”
“At last, maybe now you will stop trying, ma coeur.” He spread the shirt out to dry, taking the pants. With a wink at Jenny, who blushed and shook her head, he took a small handful of soap. “Here I am, trying to clean clothes, and you run all over, hindering my progress.”
Securely seated on the stream’s bed, she worked the soap into her scalp. She closed her eyes and retorted, “With me way over here, I’ll not bother you. Now shush please, or it’ll be both our hides.” She leaned back as before, letting her hair flow in the current. Hearing him scrubbing next to her, Ellen lowered herself into the water, covering her ears and washing away all the soap from her scalp. Sounds of children playing, the muted sounds of talking, and Del’s washing came through the liquid. She marveled at a man washing his own clothes. Although many did, she’d never thought of a brave doing such a thing. Every book she’d read on the subject said the men considered the women as slave labor.
The lack of Del’s washing noises caught her attention. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her. “Are you done so soon?”
“Yes, sadly.” He looked at the bundle in his hands and back at her. “Excuses for staring at your beauty are now washed away. Never before have clean clothes saddened me so much.”
She laughed at his outrageous compliment and sat up, pressing the water out of her hair. “I don’t like being forbidden from you most times. The silly things you say are nice to hear even if I don’t believe them.”
“Hmm.” He shook his head. “Thus I need to convince you of my sincerity, but how can I when you are so certain? You give me a lot to ponder. Adieu, ma coeur.” Standing, he strode to Jenny. “Mademoiselle, adieu.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Du Boise.” Jenny gave him a little wave. “Thank you for dinner last night. We enjoyed it.”
Though a blur, Ellen tried not to watch as he put her shoes at the neck of Marie’s dress. He put on his shirt, waved a little too big at her and left. She liked how he’d remembered her bad eyesight. Standing, she continued squeezing water out of her hair, and concentrating on the lower half, she asked Jenny, “You had dinner with Mr. Du Boise?”
“Yes, in a way. He brought over some moose, and mother fried it in a flour and pepper batter.” She sighed. “I’m hungry again just thinking about it.”
Ellen made quick work of braiding her hair, wanting to keep it up and out of the water. Jealousy nibbled at her heart, though she did her best to ignore the feeling. She didn’t mind Jenny being friends with Del, just that the girl and her family talked with him while Ellen couldn’t. She scrubbed a shirt. No matter what Del did for her family, he’d always be a dirty Indian in her father’s eyes. Pa might appreciate his actions and be friendly to his face, but she knew what hateful things he’d say once Del turned his back.
“I’m thinking the next time Mr. Du Boise brings us extra from his hunt, I’ll come and get you and Marie too. There’s too much for us to eat, and I hate the idea of the dogs getting first pick when there’s that much remaining.”
“Oh goodness! Me too! Especially if it’s as good as you say,” she reassured Jenny. “Which I’m sure it is.”
“It is. You’ll love it.” She watched as Ellen put on her glasses and shoes. “You’re finished already! I’m not even ready to wash my hair. It’s not nearly as long and full as yours. You’re so lucky.”
She folded the clothes loosely, stacking them. “Maybe so, but yours is such a lovely color. Like wheat when it’s ready for harvesting.”
“Thank you! I’m glad you think so! Everyone in my family has the same color, so it’s nothing special.” She hopped out of the stream.
“It would be special in my family. Do you need my hand soap? It’ll be gentler on your hair.”
“Sure! How wonderful of you to offer.” Jenny took and smelled the little bar. “Ooo, this smells like roses! How very nice! Thank you! I’ll bring it back to you after dinner tonight. Will that be all right?”
“Of course, I’m sure you’ll like it. See you then.” Ellen waved at the girl. Jenny was preoccupied with unraveling her hair. She jumped back into the river with a splash and Ellen laughed. How like her to leap. At least Jenny had known what to expect. She carried the damp clothes to the campsite.
Seeing Lucy and Pa with the boys, she hollered to them as they approached. “I have the washing, and have loaned Jenny my hand soap. I’m betting she’ll be done with it by the time you get there.” Ellen smiled at the boys, putting everything in one hand to ruffle Skeeter’s hair.
“Thank you, Ellen,” Lucy said as she headed to the water.
Before she could pass by him, her father grabbed her arm. “Don’t your friend’s parents have enough soap? Did you have to give ours for her to use?” He gripped harder with each word, hurting her.
“She’ll return it, Pa, I promise.” She gasped at his squeeze. “Lucy is probably washing the boys with it right now.” She tried to keep her face expressionless, not wanting anyone to notice his scolding.
He released her arm with a slight shove. “She’d better be. Our belongings aren’t yours to give away, remember that.”
She clenched her hands so her shaking wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. Pa’s temper al
ways scared her, every single time. She hurried to their camp and lowered the tailgate, draping Marie’s dress on top to let it drip dry. Shivering and still wet, she climbed into the wagon and found her dry clothes where she’d left them. She closed the canvas for privacy and changed into her Sunday dress. Ellen buttoned up, thinking if she hurried, she could give her every day dress a good scrubbing, this time without her wearing it. Maybe even start dinner before everyone returned. Her arm still felt hot through the fabric, and she was grateful for longer sleeves. She hopped out of the wagon, scooped up her wet clothes, and headed for the river’s edge.
Avoiding her family where they were gathered, she found a place further down to wash. Ellen cleaned the grass stains from the hem of her dress. She didn’t see Jenny, so she didn’t loiter, opting instead to make her way quickly back to the camp. Neither Pa nor Lucy was near the wagon, and Ellen wasn’t surprised to see Skeeter watching little Buster either. Her younger brother hopped up and down as much as he could with the baby leaning against him.
“Sis! Some boys from another camp want me to play with them? Can I?”
He stared with such pleading eyes, how could she say no to him? “May you? Yes you may. Remember the rule?”
“Yes, stay in sight of the wagons.” He hopped in impatience. “Don’t wander away, get home long before dark, right?”
“That’s right. Now go before those ants in your pants carry you back here before you’re even gone.” She laughed when he took off like a shot. Poor boy having to stay so still for so long, Ellen grinned. She saw Little Buster sitting and almost asleep on the wagon seat with a blanket as his cushion. Ellen hoped he slept through her work.
Her father came up, hands in his pockets. “Well, well, looks like you’ve been busy! Very good. How’s tea coming along? I’ve been looking forward to it happening here pretty quick.”
Ellen paused, panic chilling her blood. She didn’t remember a promise to make him tea. She said in an effort to placate him, “It will happen very quickly. If you could start a fire, I’ll get everything else ready. It’ll be done before you know it.”
His jaw clenched as he ground out, “Fine. I’ll do your chores for you.”
Swallowing down her own anger, she hopped to the ground and began gathering the food items. “Please don’t, Pa, I’ll hurry.” Ellen turned around for his response to see him gone. She sighed in relief, knowing every little bit of work from Pa helped, even with the bad attitude. He’d get his small meal that much faster. Buster snored behind her, reminding her she needed to block him in. She set up a makeshift shelter from blankets and the tailgate, placing him on a layer of quilts.
She reached into the wagon and gathered food for a small and quick meal for Pa. Tea, sugar, biscuits, and preserves were all she had at the moment. After a quick trip to the river for fresh water, she hurried back to where their fire pit should be. Her father stood off a ways, chatting with one of his cronies. Ellen had counted on seeing something burning, be it grass, sagebrush, buffalo chips, or even discarded furniture. She struggled to keep her frustration at bay. At least his friend would keep him busy until she finished cooking. Ellen tried to stay positive while Pa wasn’t going to be happy with the delay in starting a fire. She rushed around, gathering whatever was possible to burn, started the water to boil for Pa’s tea, and stirred the biscuit mixings for later.
Lucy walked up, draping her wet clothes over Marie’s dress, soaking it again. “You let Buster have jam?” Her voice was shrill as she picked up her son. “Look at him! He’s filthy.”
Her mouth dropped when she saw Buster covered in jam. “Oh no!”
Lucy gave her stepdaughter a glare. “Do you mind starting a proper dinner while I wash up my child? It’s the least you can do.” She turned without another word to the river with the baby.
Ellen rummaged around in the food containers. Plenty of beans and rice, but they had only some bacon for meat and very few potatoes left for vegetables. She wished and not for the first time that her parents had left behind belongings instead of food. Back then, the wild fruits and game practically jumped up into the frying pan. Now, this desert kept away any good-sized animals. Even the scarce rabbit running from their wheels was too fast for Pa to shoot. She turned to the task at hand. The biscuits fluffed nicely as the tea brewed.
Thinking of rabbits reminded her of the wonderful stew she’d had at the Granville camp a few nights ago. She cut off some of the more spoiled portions of their hunk of bacon. Wouldn’t it be nice if Del surprised her with extra meat from an earlier hunt from today?
She could just imagine it: He would stroll up, his dark hair blowing in the wind. And what would he hold for her? A jar of the finest butter, a fresh and ready to cook duck, a bowl of nearly overripe strawberries, and a bunch of tender asparagus. As she added the meat, potatoes, and a sickly onion for flavor, Ellen laughed at the thought of him so weighed down with food he sunk into the ground. Silly, yes, but it made for a very tasty fantasy. She stirred the mix and took another batch of fresh biscuits from the fire. Even better would be making a pie from the strawberries. Maybe she would even throw in a few blueberries despite how they ripened at different times. Anything was possible in a dream.
As long as she was dreaming, wouldn’t it be nice if he were acceptable by her father? Ellen shook her head at the impossibility. Pa might be the best carpenter in five states, but he couldn’t hunt to save their suppers. If Del was any sort of hunter, her stomach was already in love with him. She wanted a repeat of the wonderful meal he’d prepared the day they met. She glanced around, not seeing her father or his friends, wondering when everyone might return.
She looked ahead across the fire and saw Sam approach. One look at his face and her heart dropped. The mix of anger and sadness could mean a million things, but she guessed he now had proof of the Warrens and their disgusting secret.
Before she could ask, he nodded at her grim expression. “Yes, I know, and we’re going to talk.”
“Pa is out hunting, and Lucy is washing Skeeter and Buster. Sit nearby and we can talk about what I’m assuming are the Warrens.”
He sat next to her. “How long have you known about those two?”
She didn’t look at him, not wanting to admit the truth, yet she had to be honest with him. “Since the Black Hills.”
Before thinking, he blurted, “That’s been two months ago, and you said nothing to Marie?”
His anger both scared and irritated her. Ellen snapped back at him. “What would you have me tell her? What could I say that she’d believe without seeing with her own eyes?”She saw him shudder and added, “I know. It’s deplorable and against anything decent.” Ellen leaned forward to stir the pot. “As much as I’ve heard Mr. Warren call Del a savage, well, he has no room to talk.”
He swallowed then shook his head. “We need to let Marie know. She can’t go to California with them.”
Ellen thought ahead to all the possibilities in her friend’s future and agreed with him. “Especially if she finds out about their affair once there. She’d be alone, knowing everything, and have nowhere to turn.”
“I can’t let that happen.” Sam stood. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know what to say, but I’ll have to think of something before Fort Hall.”
When imagining Marie reaching California only to learn of this sordid affair, Ellen nodded. “That would be best for her.”
“Thank you for the talk. See you after dinner?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” He tipped his hat and left.
She turned at a sound behind her. Lucy stepped down from the wagon. “I heard everything. What is going on with your friend? What is she doing? Does it involve that brave? Does your father know all this?”
With each question, Lucy grew so near, Ellen had to stand and back away. “I’m not sure what to answer first. It’s all about the Warrens and I promised to keep quiet.”
“Not to me you didn’t and certainly not to Jack.”
> Pa walked up with Skeeter behind him. He stood toe to toe with Ellen and asked, “Not to me what?”
She took a breath and stepped back. She wanted to keep calm and not trigger his temper. “I promised Mr. Granville to say nothing about the Warrens for now. Please don’t make me until he says I may.”
“Since when have you taken your orders from him, young lady?” Jack grabbed her upper arm and shook her with each word he spat. “He’s not the one feeding your worthless hide.”
“Now, Jack.” Lucy stepped in between as much as she could. “I’m sure Ellen is just following orders and will tell you everything when she can. The Warrens are none of our business anyway.”
Pa let go of Ellen’s arm with a shove. “I don’t like her sassing me.”
“I know, dear.” Lucy put her arm around him, leading him to the fire.
Jack let her move him as if he were a child. “She thinks she can do whatever she wants around here, and we’re to follow her tune. I don’t like it, Lucy, I don’t.”
“I know, I know.” She pulled him onto a folded blanket and gave him a plate. “Let’s calm down and eat dinner.” Nodding at Ellen, she said, “Would you please dish up?”
Ellen served Pa, Lucy, and Skeeter before fixing a little plate for Buster. She hesitated before getting her own dinner. Her stomach churned, and while the food smelled good, she didn’t want even the smallest bite.
Watching her, Pa sighed, putting his half eaten biscuit back down. “Land’s sake, Ellen, go ahead and eat. I’m sorry if you can’t keep from getting your feelings hurt so easy. Eat before it gets cold.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him her smile and put a scoop onto her plate. She made sure the food spread out and looked like more. Still wearing the little grin, Ellen sat down, mashing the potato first then cutting her meat with the fork. She saw Pa’s frown. “I’d like to save my biscuit for dessert, maybe.”
He shrugged as if to say he didn’t care and turned to Lucy. They began talking about the day and Ellen stopped listening. Her arm ached and each bite stuck in her throat before going down with a hard swallow. The plate trembled while the bruised muscle ached, and her eyes stung as tears threatened to show. Horrified she might start crying, Ellen stared down at her dinner. She needed to think of something, anything, to distract her mind and stop the crying before it started. Maybe dwelling on Del might help. Had he been hunting this afternoon? Was there anything in the area good for eating? Besides all that, what made her care about him so much when she wasn’t supposed to? Maybe there was a book written by someone more scholarly than her.
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