Marie tried to listen as they walked until stopping at each of their wagons. She ate a quick noontime meal of extra food from breakfast. At the signal, she stood, brushed crumbs from her skirt, and reluctantly continued. Ellen and Jenny soon found her, and they spent the afternoon talking as they walked along with the wagons. Choking dust kept them a little ahead of the stretched out line of oxen. She tried to keep pace with the others’ conversation. After a while, she stopped paying attention to the girls’ chattering and more to her own thoughts. Her mind kept drifting to Charles and his chaste rejection of her.
She hated how first Charles’s inattention bothered her, and Sam’s refusal later angered her. Had they been married long enough for her husband to be tired of her? Maybe so. Her smile felt strained as she waved to the young ladies as they left to camp for the night. To have asked a young, single man like Mr. Granville for a kiss? She still wondered what had possessed her, but shamefully knew the answer. Desperation. If Sam lets her give him a little kiss, maybe even a hug, he’d be a valid critic of her appeal. He could accurately tell her how Charles could start withdrawing affection. Although, Marie conceded, her husband did allow contact while sleeping.
Upon reaching their wagon, Marie liked seeing how Charles had taken the livestock for water. That particular chore wasn’t her favorite. Instead, she walked to the south, following a dry stream bed to a stand of trees. After gathering up as much wood as possible, she returned to their camp. She began building a fire from the cedar, glad to not have Hester fussing around her. The woman’s absence gave her time to focus on cooking without a constant critique. Instead, she cut up the onion, potatoes, carrots, and turnips the way she preferred. As the food simmered in the pan, she saw her husband and sister in law approach. Standing, Marie said, “Good evening! How was your day?”
Charles gave her a friendly hug, “Good, all things considered. Did you have fun chatting with the girls?”
“Yes, they’re excellent company.” She looked at Hester. “You’re always welcome to join us, of course.”
“Thank you, but no. They are children and seem to gossip far too much.” After exchanging a glance with her brother, she added, “You’re kind to ask.”
She didn’t quite know how to reply. Hester’s benevolence caught her by surprise. “I appreciate your saying so. Dinner is almost ready if you are.”
“Good! I’m starved,” he said while spreading out blankets for them. By the time they settled on the padding, their food was ready. Hester took charge and dished out dinner.
As the night fell, like other evenings when they camped near another group of travelers, the people gathered together to socialize. Those with musical instruments played and the young singles danced. Married people traded off watching their children. Marie managed to chat with a few of the mothers during the women’s turn around the bonfire.
While she searched for her friends and a little bit for Samuel, Charles startled Marie by sitting beside her. She greeted him with, “There you are.” She looked around the circle, smiling. “They started without you.”
He grinned back at her. “So they did.”
Marie watched as people enjoyed themselves. The setting sun cast brilliant orange rays across the sky’s deep blue. The mountains to the south, the highest she’d ever seen, came alive with color. She nodded toward the others. “Seems everyone finished evening chores in double time tonight, doesn’t it?”
Charles gazed over at the dancers. “Everyone who isn’t ill, that is.”
“Hester is still feeling poorly? I did notice she ate a little, but just.” She tried to be more concerned about his sister despite not caring for the woman.
He smiled his approval at her. “She is and decided to turn in early if the music will let her.”
Clouds, now flattened with evening cooling, glowed as if made of burnt gold. The music sounded across the prairie as she glanced at Charles. “Such a beautiful end to the day, isn’t it? The moon is new tonight, so I doubt they’ll be doing much past dusk.”
“I hope you’re right for Hessy’s sake.”
The mention of his sister by her nickname hit her the wrong way. She licked her lips, trying to keep back the irritation. “I don’t suppose we have anything to talk about except Hessy, do we? You’ve spent every minute of today with her.” Her shrewish tone surprised Marie as the words poured out of her.
Before she could apologize or recant, Charles glared at her. “Do you have to talk? Can you not be quiet and listen to the music for a while?”
“I can, yes.” Anger bubbled up in her like fermented fruit in a jar. Unable to stop, she added, “However, I’ve had to agree to your postponing relations until the Territory. The very least you could do is visit with me after dinner.”
“The very least I could do?” His eyes narrowed. “As in caring for the livestock and being responsible for your health and wellbeing isn’t enough? I want our privacy to preserve your good name. I suppose that means nothing to you.”
Her husband had a reliable way of making her feel like a spoiled child. She agreed, “It means something, yes.”
He remained silent for a few minutes. After a while, Charles said, “I can’t enjoy the music anymore. Goodnight. Try to act like the lady you’re supposed to be.” He stood and began the walk back to their camp.
“Good night, then.” She stifled a sigh. Twice in as many days, she’d irritated him into leaving. Marie needed to have more care in how she treated him. She wanted a husband, not a resentful keeper. She gave a reassuring smile to a too curious gentleman seated nearby. He grinned back at her and continued watching the mêlée.
The sky’s warm hues gave way to all sorts of blues as she watched and listened to the songs. She let her gaze travel along the cloud tops as the last bit of color faded from light to dark.
She needed a distraction from being too close and too far from her husband for the next few months or she’d cry with frustration. She wanted to laugh and talk with her friends, not be angry at her husband the entire way to their new home. While scanning the group for Jenny or Ellen, she saw Sam and glanced twice at him. Her body tensed when he gave her a knowing grin from her unintended compliment. She focused on everyone else, trying to ignore him. His stern refusal to kiss her had stung her ego. She’d not asked due to desire, after all. He didn’t have to be a child about her query. She’d prefer not seeing him again for a very long while.
Back in Independence, she should have fought harder to stay until late April, doing anything to not be in this particular wagon train. She frowned upon seeing Sam’s seat empty. Marie avoided Sam somewhat since the whiskey had loosened her morals at the fort. She half listened to the music played around the fire. She stared into the flames while vowing unless she faced the loss of a limb or her life, there’d be no more whiskey and no more begging for kisses.
Tired of thinking about the entire mess, Marie stood. She swayed a little, her feet tingling from being sat on for so long. A voice at her side startled her as did a hand on the small of her back. She turned to see who touched her. “Hello?”
“Hello to you, too.” He held out his arm. “I’m assuming you’re ready to retire?” When she nodded, he continued, “Take my elbow in case you stumble.”
“Thank you.” She let him walk her back to the wagon, liking how his warm scent drifted to her in the night air. As they walked further from the fire, a slight child went through her and Marie shivered.
“You’re cold,” he whispered. “You’ll warm up under a blanket in no time.”
She liked his consideration for those sleeping. When they arrived at her family’s wagon, the Warrens seemed to be asleep. She didn’t want to allow for impropriety even if both slept like the dead. Marie stepped back from her escort. “Thank you for seeing me here, Mr. Granville. I’m sure my husband will appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
The campfire embers gave a brush of light to his face. “You’re welcome, ma’am. It’s my duty after all.”
&nb
sp; As he turned to leave, his hand gave hers a squeeze before letting go. She watched him disappear into the dark, feeling torn. Still angry at Charles, Marie gave their bedroll a contemptuous look. They always slept close, but now she felt uncertain.
Charles stirred. “Why do you wait? Come to bed. You need the sleep.”
“Very well.” She slipped off her shoes and crawled in under the blanket. The thin goose down mattress softened the ground.
Snuggling closer to Marie, he murmured, “I’m glad he walked you here this evening.”
“He had to. You heard him say it’s his duty. I think he takes getting everyone to Oregon very personally.” She enjoyed the warmth despite her irritation at her husband. “I did stay a little later than planned. I was enjoying the music and lost track of time.”
Giving a snort, he retorted, “Nightfall didn’t give you a clue?”
She didn’t take offense to his jibe. He teased her, Marie knew, and she grinned. “You’d think it would have, wouldn’t you?” After yawning, she added, “Next time I have too much fun, I’ll be sure to do it during a full moon.”
“As if you could behave for an entire month,” he snickered.
She smiled slightly as his retort. Marie did enjoy his wry sense of humor. She grew drowsy while enjoying the warmth. “Charles?”
“Um-hm?” he rumbled.
Marie turned her head back to him and asked, “Can we kiss?”
“Hmmm, I’m tired.”
Not surprised by his answer, she speculated, “When we reach the homestead?”
“Um hm.”
“Very well.” She faced front and rested her head on a pillow. Marie tried to be grateful for what affection he managed to give her at the moment. Still, she’d not been a real wife to him in months and missed the love. She blinked back frustrated tears, wondering how to change his mind before Oregon. Any other woman would take Charles’s declarations as a challenge to seduce him, but from previous attempts, she knew better. Making him act like a husband was easy; motivating him into wanting to be one was near impossible.
After a restless night of futile planning, Marie spent the morning with Jenny and Ellen. She tried to pay attention to the conversation, but her head seemed full of cotton. The girls talked about the prior night’s activities. They compared viewpoints on the music as well as on the people. She nodded at the right times, made the correct noises, but felt as if she were sleepwalking.
She wanted a nap more than food during the lunch break. Fear of being left kept her from any sort of rest. Instead, Marie shook out the picnic blanket, folded it, and then stored it away. She watched as the twins took their usual places at the front of their wagon. Maybe due to her exhaustion, but it seemed today’s midday exclusion from the duo bothered her more than usual.
She picked up the bucket of dirty dishes and rushed to clean them. Marie had the goal of being ready before hearing the order to move. She washed in a hurry and put the bucket back just as Lucky’s horn sounded. Following the Platte river bottoms as they did for the rest of the afternoon meant a smooth road. She enjoyed the walk and how the air stayed hot and humid. Marie missed the sultry days and warm nights of Louisiana. Until today, the journey so far seemed like a never ending winter without the benefit of snow. Not seeing anyone she knew nearby, she picked wildflowers while walking. The corn puffs of clouds on the horizon seemed to expand as she watched. Some looked like large columns, rising and then hitting an invisible ceiling. By now, she knew to expect late afternoon storms with this sort of sky. She breathed in, smelling the promise of severe conditions before nightfall.
The weather didn’t disappoint her expectations. Samuel and his hands rode along the group. Each man stopped at a family, then went on to another. Marie hadn’t seen much of Arnold, so he surprised her by riding to her with a greeting, “Ma’am.”
“Hello. Is there trouble?” she asked.
The young man frowned, replying, “Afraid so, we’re stopping early to lash down everything.”
Marie nodded. “I thought as much. Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He signaled to his horse and went to inform others.
She saw as Samuel stopped the young man, they talked before heading in different directions. The wagons slowly moved into their customary circle. The men on horseback backtracked a half mile hoping to caution any stragglers about the impending storm. No one needed a warning when the cold gust smelling of rain hit them. The afternoon turned dark as midnight, lit only by flashes of lightning. She and Hester double checked the cover’s fit against the ribs holding up the canvas. Meanwhile, Charles first hobbled their oxen, and then helped others with their own.
He hurried up to them, shouting above the wind. “I hope we’re ready. If it’s as bad as the hands make it out to be, we’ll sleep in here tonight.”
As he spoke, a couple of riders galloped by, stirring up even more dust and noise. Marie coughed before asking, “Should we get the bedding ready for sleeping there, then?”
Hester wrinkled her nose. “I think that’s what he said, didn’t he?”
“How foolish of me. Yes, he did.” She forced an agreeable expression on her face. Marie preferred routine much more than this unexpected event. She didn’t like doing things the wrong way, thus inviting Charles to correct her like one of his children. Hester did the same, and her censoring seemed worse than her brother’s.
Spying the water barrel, Marie took it out of the wagon. She paused, thinking the winds might blow it away before the rain fell enough to weigh it down. Unwilling to lose their only large container, she tied it to a wheel and crawled into the wagon, satisfied the barrel would catch the most water.
Charles hoisted himself into their shelter just as huge raindrops started their drumming. “Looks like everyone’s hatches were battened down and ready just in time.”
Each minute ticked by slowly as everyone waited for the storm to end. As the afternoon wore on, the flashes grew brighter, the thunder sounded louder, and the rain fell harder. The constant din made any sort of talking futie. To Marie, it seemed as if hailstones caused the noise until true hail hit against the wagon. Horses protested with whinnies, and she wanted to join in the complaining.
She winced as a clap of thunder shook the wood underneath them. Years of living through hurricanes with Charles and Hester trained Marie what to do. Or rather, prior storms had taught her the other two didn’t like entertainment while waiting out bad weather. She rested her chin against her palm and tapped her fingers on her cheek, much preferring the plains’ harsh but short storms. Days of hurricane weather left her feeling crazy from boredom afterward.
Charles took her hand, patting it on the mattress and blankets. Marie understood. They might as well try to sleep. By the time the storm ended, the three would be exhausted. She lay down on the bed next to her husband. He was right. The rain eased to a gentle fall, lulling her to sleep.
The next morning, the Red Buttes to the south reflected vibrant reds. They’d been warned by Sam’s men that they’d be leaving behind the Platte soon. The dry stretch between the now familiar river and the new Sweetwater worried everyone. Secretly, Marie liked the idea of rolling away from the water. Maybe then the mosquitoes would leave her alone. Despite the long sleeves on her dresses, she seemed to always have a new bite to scratch.
She loved the Red Buttes. By noon, they’d neared enough for Marie and Jenny to walk over to see if they were as colorful up close. Dust from the bright rouge dirt and shale comprising the buttes stained their shoes. Later at dinner, Marie told Charles and Hester about her discoveries. Seeing their bored and distracted expressions, she didn’t try to lure them into the conversation. Instead, Marie left to find her friends, seeing Ellen first at the Platte, washing up from lunch.
After a wave, Ellen came over to Marie. “Did you hear? Mr. Granville and the other men have decided we’ll camp here tonight.”
“I’d hoped we would! All but my Sunday dresses are stained brow
n now, no matter what color they used to be.” She followed her friend to the Winslow campsite. Marie shied away from the family, the father ill-tempered and the mother too accepting of his bad behavior.
Breaking into Marie’s thoughts, Ellen said “Mine, too. I’ll like having color in my clothes again.” While piling laundry onto a sheet, she said, “I also heard a group of men shot a couple of buffalo this morning.”
She watched the girl tie the corners into knots, making a carry all. “I thought I’d heard something like a gunshot.”
“Yes, and they stayed behind to dress both.” Ellen put the bundle on her shoulder and followed her friend to get more washing.
Marie asked, “Do you think they’ll sell some to anyone?”
“No, not sell. Jenny told me that Mr. Lucky was in the hunting party. She said they’re distributing the meat since no one is sure who fired the shots that killed them.”
“They’re very considerate, then.” The good news disappointed Marie since she knew Charles hadn’t been hunting with the others. They’d not had fresh meat since leaving Fort Kearney, and she missed it. Still, the Warrens weren’t sick like other families. She was glad they had plenty of root vegetables, certainly. “Did your father manage to go along?”
“Not this time, which is a pity, but Jenny’s did.” Ellen chuckled and leaned in toward her. “Besides, as sweet as Mr. Lucky is on her, I’m sure he’ll see she does well in the division.”
At her own wagon, Marie smiled at her friend before gathering the dirty clothes. “I’m certain he will. Knowing him, he’ll give her most of his share.”
The younger woman laughed. “He is a little overanxious, isn’t he?”
“A little, yes, but he is sweet nonetheless.” Marie asked, “Shouldn’t we stop by to ask Jenny if she’d like to wash clothes with us?”
Undesirable Page 5
