“Is that a fact?” Sam shook his head. First Warren and now Winslow questioning his abilities?
“Absolutely. From start to finish, there have been things I’d change for the better.”
“So you’ve said.” Sam bit back a retort suggesting Winslow take the lead and see how easy being responsible really is.
“You know, I’ve often wondered how many people have perished under your watch. Oh, not as a direct result of your actions, but very close.”
“Dearest, please.” Lucy patted his arm.
“You’re not a stupid man; I’m not saying such. Still, there are a lot more precautions you could be taking.” He gestured to Del at the fire. “This savage, for instance, working on our meal. You trust him too much with our provisions this evening. Has he poisoned our dinner? Shouldn’t we have him taste our food, first?”
With a hard glare, Del growled, “How about you testing this first. If poisoned, I shall be distressed to see you die.”
Mr. Winslow’s murderous expression matched the native’s. He stood, turned on his heel and left the group. While bumping into Ellen as she and Skeeter walked up to the group, Jack barked, “Family, follow.”
His wife jumped up, following without hesitation. Lucy held their youngest son’s hand and gave him no chance to rebel.
Ellen moved to obey out of habit and paused. Sam saw her look from her exiting family to the food cooking. She licked her lips before glancing back at them as they disappeared among the camps.
“Ellie, I don’t want to go,” her younger brother Skeeter whispered. He clung to her arm.
Winking at her, Del said, “I did say distressed, didn’t I?”
“I think it’s the insincerity of your tone, my friend.” Sam tapped his fork against his tin plate. “What counts is that the remaining Winlows are in for a treat.”
“My father has a bit of a temper. I’m sure he’s already regretting his actions, and I’d like to apologize on his behalf.”
“Apology accepted, Miss. Winslow is entitled to his opinion. This is a free country, after all.” Del glanced at her, then behind her. “Bonjour, ladies. Did you bring your appetites this evening?”
Sam stood to greet Marie and Jenny.
“We did, Mr. Du Boise.” Marie gave him her hand.
Jenny held back, turning his greeting from a kiss to a handshake. “Mr. Du Boise. I have to admit, the aroma led us here.”
The small group settled in around the fire. Lucky sat next to Jenny, who handed Del her plate for her. Del motioned for Skeeter’s plate. He gave the full dish back to the youngster then motioned for hers. Her brother ate, all the while staring with big eyes at the older man. When done distributing his cooking, Del sat next to Ellen and Sam with an effortless grace.
Marie paused in eating. “This is wonderful, Mr. Du Boise. Thank you for cooking tonight.”
“The pleasure is mine, ma coup-, Marie.”
As if difficult to admit, Jenny added, “It’s delicious. Much better than I expected.” She blushed as if realizing she’d been rude. “I mean, cooked on a campfire in such a remote place.” She stirred her dinner as if her life depended on it. “Of course, you’d be good at doing so; I’m sure you could give us all lessons.”
“I might have to give lessons to you in particular. A woman with your beauty would dazzle any man so much as to forget his stomach.”
Mr. Lucky laughed as Jenny blushed. “That’s right! Why, when I first saw this little lady, I near forgot who I was. I ain’t even thought of food since she showed up, except if I thought she was hungry or something.”
His enthusiasm amused everyone. They ate in silence until Del asked Marie, “We’ll have to find the opportunity to talk more in French than is polite at the moment. I look forward to hearing your unique accent in one of my languages.”
Marie laughed. “My accent isn’t unique where I was born, but that sounds lovely, Mr. Du Boise. I should look forward to it as well.”
Finished with her meal, Ellen patted her little brother on the back. “Did you get enough, Skeeter?”
“Yeah, and it was good.” He whispered, “Do you think we should bring some back for everyone else?”
Hearing the question, their host interjected, “Yes, but of course you should. It will waste if you don’t.”
Sam added, “It’s a moral imperative. I’ll find a bowl.”
“She could take the cook pot, yes?” Del stood, took the handle, and set the dish in front of them. “Since this is my friend’s, please keep it as long as you like.”
Sam glared at him, not liking the easy way Del gave away his belongings, “Which, I hope isn’t too long of a time. Otherwise, I’ll be dining with the Winslows.”
“You’re always welcome to join us.” Ellen smiled at him. “But, I’ll make sure you’re able to cook in this first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I’m certain of that, Miss Ellen,” Sam said, knowing he’d have the pan back before bedtime tonight. “Skeeter? Can you help your sister take the food back to your family?”
“Sure, Mr. Granville.” The young boy stood tall. “I’d be glad to.”
He grinned at the serious tone. “Which chore is everyone willing to do tonight? I can stake out the animals.”
“I’ll help you,” said Joe.
Lucky shrugged. “I can go with Lefty to wash dishes.”
“That leaves me to set up bedding,” Arnold volunteered.
“With my help,” Del added.
Each man got to his feet and set off to get their work finished. Sam laughed and addressed Del, “Who asked you to spend the night with us?”
“Who said I couldn’t?” he retorted. “Besides, we’ve not visited in how many years? I might stay for a while on my way back home. Or not, if you prefer.” Del shrugged. “I have no plans.”
“You do now. Tag along and we can catch up on what you’ve been doing since university.” Sam saw Jenny seem uncertain what to do next. “Miss, would you like me to walk you back to camp?”
“Oh my, no. We’re just across there.” She smiled at him and gave a wave. “Tell Mr. Lucky goodnight for me, please. He was a bit eager to get his chores done, I suppose.”
“I will and goodnight to you as well.” He reached for a hat that wasn’t there and tipped an imaginary brim. She giggled and left for her own family. Sam liked the young lady. She seemed a good match for Lucky. He stepped around Del and Arnold as they set out the bedrolls and took the animals for a drink and some fresh grass. Used to the routine, both men and animals soon settled in for sleep.
A loud thud jolted Sam from dozing. He shrugged out of his blankets. The sound seemed to come from the opposite side of camp. He ran to the noise’s origin, picking up his rifle on the way.
“Git outta here, you dirty red Injun!” Mr. Norman, brandishing a shovel, stood over an unconscious brave.
“I think you got him, Mr. Norman,” said Sam. As the night watch, Lucky and Arnold came up on horseback, he said, “We’ll take care of him.”
“You sure? ‘Cause I kin whack him a coupla times more.” He brandished the shovel like one of those baseball bats.
“We’re sure.” He examined the man, who wore a long-sleeved shirt and boots but wore his hair long and braided. Sam felt for a pulse. Finding none, he stood, facing Mr. Norman. “He’s dead.”
Chapter 8
A tinny whump sound shook Marie awake. She’d never heard the sound of metal against a body before now. Taking a deep breath while sliding out of bed, she wanted to see what had happened. She took care in not waking Charles. If the noise had been something serious, they’d have all been awakened by an alarm. Quiet as she could, Marie tiptoed in the odd sound’s direction. She stopped when hearing Sam declare someone dead. Afraid he was speaking about someone she knew, she pressed on and halted when seeing him and the Granville men standing around a body.
Mr. Norman looked up at her, then back at his victim before saying, “I cain’t have hit him that hard.”
&
nbsp; “Hard enough to kill him, certainly.” Sam shook his head and began patting down the dead man. No one spoke until he straightened. “I didn’t feel a knife or gun.”
Searching the ground, Mr. Norman said, “He had a gun. I saw it fall when I hit him.”
“Tell me what happened. How did you avoid getting shot?”
He scratched his forehead while thinking. “I saw him stealin’ my horse, got my shovel. When I made a noise, he jumped an’ drew his gun. I froze ‘till he started off with my horse. Soon as he did that, I smacked him hard to teach him a lesson.” He stooped, picking up the gun. “Here ya’ go! Right where he left it.”
Sam took the weapon, asking, “Why didn’t you use your shotgun?”
Mr. Norman shrugged. “I don’t keep it loaded on account of my children. Loadin’ it takes too much time when a man’s ridin’ away with your horse.”
After a few moments, Lucky asked Sam, “What do you think, boss?”
“A lot of things. First, it was self-defense since Mr. Norman had a gun drawn on him. Second, the man is a horse thief. Or rather, was. Third, he’s white, trying to pass as Indian.” Sam knelt and pushed the sleeve up the dead man’s arm. Marie saw from where she stood how the bandit had painted his face and hands, leaving his arms pale. Sam continued, “His act could have started a war with the Indians.”
“Should we strip and bury him?” asked Lefty.
“Yes, with Mr. Norman getting the gun and money for his trouble.” He turned to Marie and the small crowd of other light sleepers who’d gathered behind her. “Back to sleep, everyone. Morning won’t get here any later than usual because of this.”
Marie turned to the others to go back to their beds. She tried not to stare after Sam and yawned while returning to her own camp. Charles was sitting up as she approached, while Hester still slept. He held open the blankets for her, and Marie slid in beside him.
“What happened?” he whispered. “I heard the commotion.”
“Someone dressed like an Indian tried to steal a horse. One of the men hit him in the head with a shovel and killed him.”
“With what? Who is digging around at this time of night so a shovel is handy?” He snuggled in against her. “Though, I suppose hitting him with a pillow would be less effective.”
She stifled a chuckle at her husband’s quip. “Should you go help bury him?”
“No, I can’t. I’m asleep.”
Her last thought before dozing was of wondering when Charles had become so lazy and uncharitable. She couldn’t remember if he’d always been this way or not.
Early morning rustling woke Marie. She shivered and breathed in the desert air still heavy with dew Marie sat up with a smile, not realizing until now how much she’d missed the moisture. Easing out of bed, she was careful to not disturb her husband’s sleep. The siren song of fresh coffee called to her, so she grabbed up a bucket and went to the river.
She smiled and nodded greetings at others as she passed them, both going to and coming from the water. Rebuilding the fire took some work. She assembled the ingredients for biscuits in a hurry, eager to get the day started. A chill swept through her. Why be eager when each step carried her closer to a separation from Sam? In the clear sunlight of morning, seeing the last of him didn’t seem possible. Marie continued stirring, now not ready to start cooking.
“Hmm,” Charles sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Smells good.”
His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “So will breakfast, darling.”
“Biscuits again?”
“I’m afraid so.” She placed scoops of dough into the pan. “I’ll cut some bacon in a minute. Help yourself to the coffee.” A glance over at Hester showed the older woman still slept. Marie shook her head, amazed at how her sister in law could still doze when the camp hummed to life around her. Getting the bacon and a jar of preserves to placate her husband, she returned to the campfire. “Should we wake her?”
“Not yet. She needs the rest.”
Marie refrained from the retort concerning rest from what, exactly, coming to mind. She handed him a cup and filled one for herself. “You’re probably right. She seems to have been a bit terse lately.”
“It’s this country. It takes a lot out of a woman like her.” He glanced over at his wife. “I mean, she’s not like you. Hester is more highly strung. Like an exquisite mare, really.”
She looked at him from over the rim of her cup. Asking him what sort of animal he’d compare her to might not end the morning on a positive note. As she was much shorter than the twins, they probably thought of her as something small and rodent-like. Better to stay quiet and think on what creature he most closely resembled. If Hester was a mare, then it seemed to reason Charles was a stallion. Or more likely, a gelding. The two talked as Marie suppressed a wicked grin and flipped the biscuits. The comparison seemed a little wrong. Maybe he resembled something less gallant than a horse, yet nobler than a jackass.
The sun peeked over the eastern horizon, spreading light over all of them. She watched as Hester stirred to life, blinking and rubbing her eyes much as her brother had earlier. Not needing to be asked, Marie dished out the breakfast. She saved back some for lunch and set aside the pan to cool as she ate her own meal. Glancing up to see Hester’s frown when staring at her own plate, she couldn’t blame the woman for showing dissatisfaction. Marie dreamed of a return to the days of banquets and feasts. Without interrupting the siblings as they talked, she stood and took their empty plates. They needed to be ready for the ferry today. She hoped the twins would have everything ready with the bedrolls put away and animals tended by the time she returned from washing.
She cleaned up, a little grin on her face when realizing how much she’d been searching for Sam in the walk back to camp. In a group as small as theirs camped in one spot, they met up at least once a day. She gazed out across the wide river. Already the air held a promise of the day’s desert heat. She breathed in deep, enjoying how the warmth amplified the smells. If she stared straight ahead and ignored the sounds around her, she’d be the only person in the world. An appealing thought when either Warren loitered nearby, not so much if Sam was absent. Shaking off the reluctance to return, Marie broke her reverie and headed back to the wagon.
A welcome sight greeted her. Their belongings had been packed away, and the animals weren’t there. She presumed Charles and less likely Hester was seeing to them before they started for the ferry. Feeling an odd mix of impatience and reluctance, she put the dinner pail full of drying dishes into the wagon. Angry chatter from first Charles, then his sister, grew louder as the two approached.
“Easy for you to say. It’s not your six dollars they’re wanting.”
“No, but it’s my life if this topples over and I drown.”
“You’re not going to drown. Don’t you have more faith in me than that?”
“I do, but sometimes…”
A piercing scream interrupted Hester. Marie and the Warrens ran to the source, leaving the animals half hitched. Following the sound and continuing shouts led them to the river’s edge. Marie watched in horror as the Winslows and Granville’s men struggled to pull the wagon and animals back to shore. She tried to count people as they bobbed and swam. Feeling someone grab her arm, she turned to see Jenny clinging to her.
“Oh no! Mr. Granville warned them and now look!”
Marie put her arm around the distraught girl. “They’ll be fine. Samuel and Lucky are there.” She pointed. “Look! Mr. Du Boise has Ellen, and the boys are on shore. They’re all fine.”
“Damn,” said Charles from behind the women.
She turned to see her husband squinting at the incident and asked him, “I suppose we’re paying to cross?”
“Looks like it.” He stepped forward when a bundle of clothes floated towards them. Reaching into the river and scooping it up, he said, “I suppose they’ll need this.” He held the soggy bundle out to Marie, water pouring from it. “You can give them their bedding, if that is wha
t this is, while I get us ready for the ferry.”
She took the bundle, holding it away from her dress. “Of course.” In the meantime, Jenny had let go of her, and Marie saw the girl hugging Ellen. She walked over to the group gathering around the Winslows.
Jenny let go of her friend while saying, “You disappeared, then Mr. Du Boise, then Mr. Granville. After seeing the wagon, we just knew the worst had happened.”
Smiling when seeing a soaked Del standing in front of her, Marie said to him, “I’ll hug you for saving our friend’s life after you’re dry.”
“I’ll take you up on that, ma chère.” He said to Ellen, “We should both find other clothes soon.”
Marie spoke before her friend could reply. “Everything in your wagon is probably drenched. You can help me search our things for something dry.” She crooked her finger for Ellen to follow her. “Your hems will be a little high due to our height difference.”
“I’ll be happy with whatever you find. Anything is better than this cold feeling for the rest of the day.”
“Good. Jenny, your mother and Mrs. Winslow are similar. She and the boys might be able to borrow some clothes from your family, too.”
“I’ll take them to Ma and see what she can find them.” The girl hurried off to escort the rest of the family to the Allens’ wagon.
Marie took Ellen’s hand, alarmed at how chilled it was. “Mercy! You’re near frozen. Let’s go get started.”
Del tapped her on the shoulder. “Madame, please excuse me while I’m finding other clothes. I prefer trousers to dresses.”
Her first impulse was to help Del by offering Charles’ clothes. She frowned, imagining her husband’s adverse reaction and nodded without saying anything. Even the idea of the tall, dark man in a dress too short for him didn’t cheer her. They watched as he walked toward Sam’s wagon.
Ellen spoke first, “He is a good-looking man for an Indian.”
“I think so, too,” Marie said.
Undesirable Page 20
