By late afternoon, everyone had caught up and parked their wagons in a semi-circle around the riverbank. The Granville men swam the stock to the island after blocking off the narrow entrance so they stayed on the grassy stretch of land. The water was thigh high, not enough to keep the cattle corralled, but the animals didn’t know that for sure. Some ventured out to drink, but not far, and they always came back to shore for more grazing.
The sun eased to the horizon, a few fingers above mountains in the far distance. He’d seen a few pronghorn antelope today. Nothing worth hunting, mostly nursing mothers and their babies. After dismounting, he unsaddled Scamp and staked him out for grazing. Sam hopped into the wagon, searching out his fishing supplies.
“Mr. Granville?”
Sam turned to see Arnold at the back, peering in. “Yes? What can I do for you?”
The young man looked at Sam’s hands. “Hey! You’re going fishing. That’s great!”
“Don’t be too sure.” Arnold stepped back as Sam hopped down. “I’ve not been and back with anything just yet.”
“Sure. Do you want us to wait supper on you?”
“Yes, do that. I’m feeling optimistic.” Grinning at Arnold’s disbelief, Sam left, strolling upstream and away from the others. He followed the bank until unable to hear most of the noise behind him. Shadows darted in the water, and he cast, hoping one of the fish snagged the line. He let the lure be caught by the current and drift downstream. The occasional nibble tugged his line, but none strong enough for him to set the hook.
A movement west of him caught his eye. He looked up to see Charles and Hester rounding an outcrop of rock jutting from the foothill. They jostled each other as if playing a keep away game. He grinned, having seen older people act sillier than this before now. It seemed to him that siblings never outgrew their relationships with each other. He focused back on his fishing, determined to have trout for dinner tonight.
He didn’t notice their sour expressions until they drew close to him. He nodded, saying in a quiet voice, “Hello, Mr., Miss Warren.”
Giving him a stony glare, Hester replied, “Hello, Mr. Granville. Charles, I’m going to the wagon. I trust you’ll take care of this.”
Sam’s eyebrows raised at her command, and also a little at the volume of her delivery. The woman had seemed carefree only minutes ago. Now, she was loud enough to scare away his dinner.
“Mr. Granville, Sam, how are you this evening?”
He winced at the man’s booming voice. Half a mile away from camp for the quiet and this yahoo seemed determined to yell his fish out of the water. “I'm all right, sir, if a little intent on catching something today.”
“I see.” Charles put his hands in his pockets. “I’m also wondering what else you might have caught.”
Sam suppressed an annoyed sigh. He’d hoped Warren would pick up on the quieter tone he used, but the man seemed oblivious. Giving him an irritated glance before recasting, he tried to imagine what he meant by caught. “Nothing else, I’m afraid.”
“All right, I’m happy with that for now.” Charles nodded, “You’re a good man, Granville. A good man, indeed.” With that, he strolled off, whistling.
He looked at him, frowning. First the loud chatter and then the noise? Disgruntled, Sam rolled up his fishing line and went further downstream. If Warren was worried about being found playing like a child, he needn’t worry. Sam didn’t give a plug nickel for who did what as long as there wasn’t blood involved. Moving away from the duo improved his luck and his mood. Soon, he sauntered back with a few small trout on the line.
After dinner, Lucky’s bugle sounded the first few notes of a favorite tune. Sam grinned and leaned back, giving a “later” signal to Uncle Joe. The older gentleman gathered their dishes in the bucket and put it to the side, for later washing up by the full moon. All three Warrens entered the firelight’s circle, and Sam nodded in greeting. With a bit of fuss, Hester sat near Lefty and patted the ground beside her. Charles settled in just as Jenny and Ellen sat next to Lucky. Marie looked around as if unsure what to do before deciding on a place near Charles.
Hester leaned over to Charles and said in a loud whisper, “The music is nice, much like it has been every night he’s played this song.”
“Sshh,” Marie hissed.
“I’d gladly buy him a songbook when we finish this trip,” Hester continued. “Or maybe he can find a discarded one along the way. Anything to help his repertoire.” She raised her eyebrows at Charles. “May we leave, now?”
Her brother shrugged. “Of course, go ahead.”
Hitting his arm, she growled, “We, Chas, meaning you may walk me to our wagon.”
“Oh, right.” He stood. “Everyone, good night. Marie? Are you with us?”
She shook her head. “I’d prefer not to since this is just the first song. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay a little while longer. Please?”
“Very well. I trust you can walk yourself the short distance to our wagon?” He frowned at his sister’s glare.
Marie gave him a reassuring smile, replying, “Yes, I’ll manage.”
Sam grinned at how Marie seemed demure until glancing over at him with an eye roll. Before he could enjoy their silent communication, Mr. Winslow staggered over to the fire.
The circle of people blocked him from falling into the flames as he hollered, “Ellen! Yer mamma needs yer sorry hide to come help with the babies.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at the drunk. So far, the man had behaved well, though inebriated. No one in his family had shown bruises or flinched when he moved suddenly, so Sam considered him mostly harmless. Rumor was Mr. Winslow never got over his first wife, despite remarrying and starting another family. He watched as Ellen didn’t respond except to follow her father back to their camp. Looking east at the rising moon, Sam also stood. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to bunk down for the night.”
Lucky held out his arm for Jenny. “Miss, it would be my honor to walk you back to your wagon tonight.”
She locked arms with him. “Thank you, Mr. Lucky, I’d like that.”
Marie eased to her feet. She straightened her skirt a little before turning to leave.
“Ma’am? Would you like an escort back to your camp?”
She paused before saying, “I don’t need help in going such a short way.”
“I could use a stretch of the legs.” Sam worked to act like her answer didn’t matter.
Marie smiled at him, her face a little flushed in the waning firelight. “By all means, do accompany me. I’d hate to think of you with nothing to do.”
He fell in step with her, unsure if he should offer his arm to hold. Giving her a side glance, Sam decided against it. Wanting to make her laugh, he said, “It takes a tough old gal to walk herself home at night, you know.”
“You’re a brave man to use the word old in front of a ‘gal.’ But then, it takes a man with a little salt, vinegar, and a lot of bravery to lead greenhorns across a country that could kill them.”
He was pleased she thought of him as such. “Thank you, ma’am, one might say it takes a courageous sort of woman to leave her home for rough country.”
Shaking her head in disagreement, Marie stated in a quiet voice, “I’m not courageous at all. I’ve hated every minute. Each day has been an ordeal, and I’m tired of the constant freezing temperatures. Under the blankets at night is the only time I’m comfortable. Even then I’m asleep and can’t enjoy the warmth. If I were a man, I’d be on my way back east or anywhere else that isn’t here.”
Charles turned the corner, and Sam felt Marie startle when her husband yelled, “No, you sure as hell wouldn’t, young lady. Your family is gone, and my family doesn’t want you burdening them, so forget you’re going anywhere without me.”
“And Hester.” Marie said through clenched teeth, “We mustn’t ever forget about her.”
“Yes, and Hester. You should thank her every day for putting up with you.” Turning his attention
to Sam, he said, “Sir, we need to talk about how often you catch me by surprise, especially after today.”
Chapter 4
Marie went for water with Hester first thing in the morning. She glanced at her sister-in-law. “I appreciate you helping me with this.” After receiving a scornful glare, Marie renewed her resolve to stay silent. She also reiterated her commitment to moving the woman into a house of her own.
When seeing Samuel and his men with their horses at the creek’s edge, Hester hurried over to them. “Why, Mr. Granville! How are you?”
Ignoring her, he continued saying to the others, “It’s a six-mile round trip. There’s no need to overload the horses but get as much as you can and get back here. I’ll be along in a little bit.” Finished, he addressed them, “Hello, ladies. How are you?”
Hester stepped in front of Sam, saying, “I'm all right, of course. With such excellent leadership on this journey, how could a girl be anything but wonderful?”
The woman’s simpering both amused and nauseated Marie. To keep from groaning outright, she went up and petted Samuel’s horse. After a while, she paused, lowering her hand. The animal took a step forward and nudged her for more. She chuckled and gave a sideways glance toward Samuel. He watched her as Hester continued to talk.
Feeling a blush steal over her face, Marie asked the first thing that came to mind, “Should we be gathering wood or buffalo chips today?”
“Such a foolish question, isn’t it, Mr. Granville?” Hester snickered. “She is such a goose, never paying attention to her surroundings.”
He turned to Marie and grinned. “Wood, since there’s a lot of cedar growing on the bluffs.”
Hester’s meanness tied Marie’s tongue for a moment. Struggling to ignore her irritation at her sister in law, she gave a little laugh. “Of course, we can use wood. I’ve been so accustomed to chips that I haven’t considered anything else.”
He leaned against his horse, seeming content to stand and talk for a while. “We’ll need both types of fuel, and any more we can get. The chips are going to become scarcer as we go on, and the wood won’t be plentiful after we’re another two weeks along.”
The lack of fuel disturbed her, as did the lack of fresh meat later down the trail. Hester’s sour face, however, she found quite enjoyable. She said to the other woman, “I’m certain we’re boring you, Hessy. Go on and I’ll catch up very shortly.” When Hester gave an eye roll and left, Marie turned back to Sam. “I liked the buffalo we had a few days ago. Do you prefer it to beef?”
“I do like buffalo, but have to admit I prefer beef any day. My family raises the best cattle. After too much bison meat, I get homesick.” He winked at her. “Ask me again in a couple of months when there’s been only deer and very little of that. You’ll get a different answer.”
“I can imagine!” She returned his smile. His clear blue eyes seemed to mirror the sky and see into her thoughts. In an instant, she knew why he seemed so attractive. The man focused on her in a conversation instead of through her. The attention intoxicated her, freezing her mind. Not the best thing when she needed to think up questions faster than he answered them. Marie tried to be casual. “Is it as beautiful there as people and Ellen’s guidebook say?”
He nodded. “More than anyone can describe, though people living there don’t want to tell anyone else.”
“They want it all to themselves, I suspect,” she said.
Sam stared into her eyes. “Yes, they do.”
The unexpected intensity in his expression surprised her. Somehow, Marie sensed he didn’t mean the Territory. Nervous at what he might mean, she smoothed her skirt. “I can see why some might be selfish and not want to share.”
He returned her grin. “How about I loan you my favorite guidebook, and you can decide for yourself. I’ll drop by your camp this evening.” A whistle caught his attention. “Excuse me, I need to help my men.”
The moment evaporated and Marie felt like she’d missed a subtle hint from him. “I’ll take good care of your book.”
“I have no doubt.” He tipped his hat and rode away, following the hired hands.
Marie put her hands on her hips, wondering if their conversation was really about Oregon. Ellen and Jenny tended to think everything an unclaimed man said had more than one meaning. She thought the girls silly. After Samuel’s statement about outsiders, however, maybe they had a valid point. She very much hoped so, anyway. Marie hurried to catch up to her sister in law, already halfway back to camp.
When she fell into step beside her, Hester said, “That man is a complete libertine. Did you see that wink? Well! He apparently feels safe doing such a thing to a married woman.” Hands on hips, she added, “If he’d winked at a single lady like me, there might have been trouble.”
After years of listening to Hester, she knew to not laugh outright. Marie instead struggled for an even tone before saying, “I’m sure he’d agree.”
Narrowing her beady eyes, she asked, “Are you being sarcastic with me, young lady?”
Marie smiled. “Oh no, I’m certain you’re right. You’re single, and he’s probably not to be trusted around single ladies.” She kept to herself how she considered the two facts not related.
Hester seemed somewhat mollified. “I suppose. It sounds to me like his family is wealthy if they eat beef every day.”
“I’m sure. That and the way he dresses would indicate as much.” A fire burned in the pit at their camp. Marie made a mental note to thank Charles later.
Hester said, “A woman would be wise to set her cap for Mr. Granville.” Her eyes narrowed as if considering the idea.
Turning a laugh into a cough, she asked the older woman, “Do you mean to do just that?”
She gave her a little sneaky smile. “Someone should.”
Getting the breakfast pan, Marie stepped around her sister in law. “No doubt a lot of available girls have him in mind as a husband.”
“Maybe even a few married ladies, do you think?” Hester settled in, sitting next to the campfire. “I’m sure there are plenty of wives wanting a wealthier husband.”
“I never considered that. A few widows might, but those already married?” Marie shook her head. “Those women might like him, but are wrong to consider Mr. Granville as a choice.”
Poking at the fire, Hester said, “I suppose so.” She pouted while the food cooked, brightening only when seeing her brother.
While eating breakfast, Hester and Charles talked about Mr. Granville, how the sick were too dependent on others, and if cedar smelled better than pine when burned. While they barely spoke to her, Marie liked how they talked with each other in English versus their own language. French would have been better she thought, then corrected herself. She would be melancholy if anyone addressed her with her father’s language.
She stood and brushed biscuit crumbs from her skirt. Dishes went into the wash pail. She watched, waiting for a break in the twins’ conversation. Nature called her in a way Marie couldn’t ignore as she stood there. Unable to wait any longer, she left without excusing herself and walked outside the wagon circle. Her sunbonnet was back at camp, and Marie wished she’d worn it now. Hearing hoofbeats drawing near, she kept her gaze on the clump of scrub brush ahead.
“Good morning, Mrs. Warren!”
Marie halted, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment from irritation. She loved Sam, truly she did, but not right now. Taking a breath, she smiled up at him. “Good morning, Mr. Granville, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Why thank you, ma’am. The sight of you always brightens my day as well.”
Seeing him begin to dismount, she panicked. “Oh no, don’t get down on my account. I’m off to take care of things, and I know how busy you must be, so good morning to you, sir.”
He seemed puzzled, then grinned after catching on to what sort of things she needed doing. “I’m never too busy to chat with a lovely woman, Mrs. Warren.”
If not so close to a critical and embarrassing mo
ment, she’d have laughed at the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yes, you are, and so am I.” Marie took a couple of steps toward the shrubbery as Sam laughed.
“Very well, I’ll be on my way.” He tipped his hat while giving her a cheeky grin. “Ma’am.”
She waved as he turned to leave and then all but raced to privacy. Finished, she walked back feeling much better and not so afraid of dust making her sneeze. As Marie approached the camp, she saw Hester walking up from the river with the wash pail in hand.
Catching sight of Marie, Hester glared at her. “You timed that just right.”
“I did?” Marie fell in step beside the woman.
“Don’t give me that. You always wander off during chores and leave me to do everything.”
“No, I don’t.” Marie put her hands on her hips. “In fact, it’s often just the opposite.”
Charles walked up to them. “What is it now?”
“It’s her.” Pointing at Marie, Hester said, “She’s always running off and getting out of doing anything useful. I thought you had a talk with her about that.”
He held his sister by the shoulders in a comforting way, “I did.”
Hester pulled away from him, pouting like a child. “Then why, when dishes needed doing and the livestock cared for, was she over there flirting with Sam?”
The accusation horrified Marie. “I was not!”
“I saw you, and you were,” she hissed.
“You saw nothing of the kind!” Marie stared at first one sibling then the other. “She’s not telling the truth.”
Charles stared at her, scowling. In a growl, he asked, “Are you saying Hessy is a liar?”
His tone frightened her in its quiet ferocity. She stammered, “No, I mean Sam, Mr. Granville, stopped to say hello.”
“Ha!” Wrinkling her nose, Hester added, “See? She was indeed flirting.”
“It’s not like that.” These assertions angered Marie. “She’s adding too much to the truth and is dead wrong about any flirting this morning. In fact, you should know how she…”
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