Ice Princess

by Judith B. Glad

  Since she was still feeling less than vital, Flower followed willingly.

  Later William looked around the small camp with satisfaction. It seemed well-hidden. Plenty of water, well-dried wood for an almost smokeless fire, and not a trace that anybody'd ever been here. He wasn't sure what he'd have done if Flower had insisted on goin' down into town. Picked her up and carried her off, he reckoned.

  I'd had some bruises if I done that.

  She was asleep, curled up under a blanket, one arm wrapped around the pup so he was solid against her belly. He reckoned she was still miserable. Eulalia, she who'd taught him what went on between a man and a woman, had suffered from the woman's curse something awful. He was powerful happy to be a man.

  * * * *

  "You are not going to England," Flower said to William the next morning. Yesterday she had lacked the energy to argue when he'd mentioned doing so. Today she did.

  "I told you, woman. I go where you goes." He looked back at her, his dark brown eyes steady, his jaw firm. Even his position, arms across his chest, feet flat on the ground, told her his mind was made up.

  "You are being ridiculous. I have been invited to England. You have not. What will you do when you get there? What work can you do?"

  "A man's not gonna starve, long as he's willin' to work hard. I'll get by."

  "But how will I explain you?"

  "Easy. I'm your servant. Or your slave, if that makes it sound better." He reached down and scratched Beowulf, who lay dozing at his feet. "Only thing worries me is what we're to do with this useless mutt."

  She jumped to her feet and paced before him. "If you would only do what is sensible, you could take him with you." She paused in her pacing. "William, listen to me! You would not be happy in England. You have a home in Cherry Vale, land of your own. Hattie and Emmet love you, consider you part of their family.

  "You could find a wife--there are several young women in Goat Runner's village. Or Jacques and Marie could introduce you to some of their neighbors."

  "I ain't changed my mind. I want you, Flower, not somebody else. If you won't have me, I won't have no woman."

  She heard no self-pity in his voice. Only a firm vow.

  "Oh, William--"

  "Don't you 'oh, William,' me, woman. Soundin' like you feels sorry for me. I don't need your pity. I made up my mind a long time ago, haven't changed it since. And when I picked you, I knowed...knew there was a good chance I'd never have you."

  He stood and took the single step that brought him face to face with her. His hands went to her shoulders, where they rested lightly, not holding her, yet feeling like the most unbreakable of bonds. "You and me, we've loved for a little while. Maybe that's all we'll ever have, if you won't take me with you. But I'll remember all my life, and rememberin', I couldn't do right by any other woman. 'Cause she wouldn't be you."

  His face grew blurred in her sight. Throat tight, chest aching, Flower pulled free of his hands and turned away. She stumbled blindly into the woods, needing time alone.

  Time to think.

  William started to follow her, then stopped himself. Let her go. She's all mixed up and needs time to straighten out her thinkin'.

  Dusk cloaked the trees in shadows when she returned. Without speaking she accepted the cup of tea he held out to her. He'd used the last crumbling shreds, knowing it wouldn't be long before she could have all the tea she wanted. And tonight she needed it.

  After she had seated herself on a fallen tree, she stared into the cup for a long while. At last she said, "You may go with me."

  Happy as her decision made him, William had to admit it was not the answer he had hoped for. He knew nothing of this England, 'cept it was so far away he'd never come home again. But she was going, so maybe he'd find a new home there.

  "That's good," he said, then paused when she held up her hand.

  "You will travel as my servant, because you will be safer. But when we get to England, you will be a free man. Free to go where you wish, do as you wish. I cannot guarantee that you will be welcome to live at Everett's home, but I can promise you that you may always visit me there."

  He stared at her. What about our loving? he wanted to ask. Don't I mean nothin' to you? Instead he nodded.

  Silence.

  "Well?" she said, after waiting several heartbeats "Will you say nothing?"

  If I was to tell you what's in my heart, woman, you'd just throw it back in my face. Like so much rubbish. "I'll do what you say," he said, his voice unsteady. "Whatever you say."

  They slept apart, as they had for the past two nights. William lay on his hard bed, staring up into the night sky. The stars seemed farther away, but maybe the film of tears in his eyes was making 'em seem that way. He was a grown man, but he wanted to blubber like a babe, something he'd never done, no matter how bad things was for him before.

  And he was mad, too. He'd sat there and let her treat him like some kind of toy. Or a slave! Crawlin' to her, taking whatever she gave him, just so he could stay close to her. He'd seen dogs with more pride.

  But it it's the only way...

  "Then maybe she ain't worth it, boy," he whispered.

  This is Flower. You love her.

  "She don't love me."

  Keep hopin'. She might come to it yet.

  "'Long about the time when pigs sprout wings."

  He turned on his side, tucked one hand under his head. Across the fire pit, Flower's blanket was a light-colored cocoon against the dark woods. She had her back to him. But he could see her face in his mind. Could he go the rest of his life and never see her face again? Could he keep livin', never knowing if she was well, if she was happy?

  And what if she married somebody over there in England? Would he want to keep livin'?

  "No man ever died of love," he muttered, rolling to the other side so he wouldn't have to see her. "But maybe some of 'em wanted to real bad,"

  Maybe you'd be better off to go on back to Cherry Vale, forget about her.

  "Maybe I would."

  Flower welcomed the dawn, because it meant that she no longer needed to lay in her uncomfortable bed and pretend to be sleeping. As soon as she knelt at the fire pit and added slivers of wood to the still-hot coals, she knew William was awake too. Never turning to look at her, he rose, pulled on his buckskins, and stalked into the woods. When he returned, she had water heating and was slicing dried venison into it. There were no more of the vegetables she had gathered at Hidden Dell, but she still had a bit of salt, to make the broth palatable. Besides, today she could walk into a trading post and purchase whatever foodstuffs caught her fancy.

  He came up behind her and stood. Without turning, she said, "I have been thinking..."

  "So have I." His tone was flat, cold.

  She turned and looked up at him. Never had she seen his expression so hard. "You first," she said.

  "I ain't gonna go with you," he said. "I'll see you into town, and stay with you until you gets on your ship. Then I'll go back where I belongs."

  She reeled, as if he had slapped her. Catching herself on her hands, she kept her head low for a moment while she caught her breath. "I was going to tell you that you could come without conditions."

  She looked up, expecting to see delight on his face. His expression was unchanged. "I mean that you can stay with me at Everett's. You can be my servant, if that's what you want. I did not mean to hurt your feelings, to make you feel unwanted."

  "What's he gonna say to that? You looks enough like your pa, you can pass for white. There's no way I can."

  "He will simply have to accept you."

  William's snort showed his disbelief. "Better get your dress changed, if you wants to get to town before the day's half gone." He turned away and began gathering up the pack's contents.

  Flower watched him a moment, then went to where her dress hung from the stub of a branch. It was still wrinkled, but it would have to do.

  Later, at the edge of town, William halted. "Before we goes
in, there's something I got to know."

  Angry at his continued refusal to discuss his decision--he had not even replied to most of her questions on the walk from their camp --she waited without answering.

  "What if your Earl has writ you not to come? What you gonna do then?"

  "There has not been time--" She covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh, no!"

  "What's the matter?"

  "The letter. I forgot to give it to Hilaire. I must have left it..." An empty feeling filled her belly.

  For a long moment he stared at her. "You mean to tell me he don't know you's comin'?"

  She shook her head, wondering if it would make any difference. Everett had invited her more than once. His last letter, which had made its slow way to Lapwai from Fort Vancouver in the pack of an old friend of her father's, had repeated the invitation.

  The date on that letter had been Christmas, 1844.

  Flower did not know the exact date, but she did know that they were well into July.

  Two and a half years ago!

  Speaking more from desperation than from conviction, she forced a smile to her lips. "That will not matter. He will welcome me."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Doctor McLoughlin was easy to find. Flower went inside the first mercantile they came to and asked the clerk. By early afternoon, she was knocking on the door of a large white house.

  The young woman who answered the door was clearly Indian. "Come in," she said, smiling politely. "I will see if he is at home."

  Looking over her shoulder at William, who stood stolidly at the gate, Flower hesitated.

  He nodded toward the house. Go on in.

  "Thank you," she replied. The woman led her down a hall and indicated she was to enter a small parlor.

  Curious, Flower looked around the room. It was sparsely decorated--two obviously handmade chairs, a table holding a few books and papers. The walls were white, and one held a framed drawing of Mt. Hood, as seen, she believed, from Fort Vancouver.

  The window looked out into a side yard, but by putting her face against the glass, Flower could see the front gate. William still stood there, clad in the ragged red shirt and his tattered canvas pants. His feet were bare.

  He had insisted that he would attract far less attention dressed thus than if he were to walk into town in his buckskins. Perhaps, but she still hated seeing how his demeanor changed when he put on his rags. He no longer walked tall and proud, but instead seemed to cringe along, as if fearing that every man's hand might be turned against him.

  This is what I have done to him. She felt ashamed.

  The door opened. "Miss Jones?"

  She turned. "Hello, Doctor McLoughlin. Do you not remember me?"

  He looked at her more closely. "Flower? Flower Jones? It is you! I had doubted--" In two steps he was across the room and bowing over her hand. "But you have grown up! What a pleasure this is, my dear. What brings you here? How is your father?"

  "My father is dead," she told him. "More than a year ago."

  "Ah, I am sorry to hear that. He was a good man." Gently he took her arm, guided her to a chair. "But you are well?"

  She nodded, biting her lip. "I have come to ask you for assistance, sir. I wish to go to..." She paused, took a deep breath. Begin at the beginning. It will make better sense. "Do you remember my godfather, Everett Hetherington?"

  "Your father's partner? Tall, fair? A younger son, I believe?"

  "That is he."

  McLoughlin combed his fingers through his beard, totally white now, instead of the streaked gray she remembered. "I heard he returned to England. Inherited, didn't he? A title?"

  "He is Earl of Heatherwood." Her fingers seemed to want to tangle together. She looked down at them and silently commanded them to be still. "More than once he invited me to come to live with him, and I have decided to do so." Hesitating, she wondered once again if she was doing the right thing. "Can you help me?"

  His silence told her that he was reluctant. After a moment's thought, he said, "What do you know of England, my dear?"

  "That it is green and lovely--"

  "So is Oregon."

  "Civilized--"

  "A matter of opinion."

  For a moment she stared at him. "You do not approve," she said.

  "It is not my place to approve or disapprove. I simply question whether you have given this plan of yours adequate thought. But listen to me! I have not even offered you hospitality. Where are you staying?"

  "We are camped about five miles from town," she said.

  "We?"

  "My...my servant and I. I did not know what the sentiment towards toward him might be. We... had some trouble in The Dalles." There is no need to know that the closer we got to town, the more my belly clenched and my limbs trembled. Let him believe I worry for William. "He is a man of color, you see."

  "Ah. Of course. There is probably no danger for him here, but one should never take undue risk."

  "Doctor McLoughlin, I...did my father...Do you know what happened to the money my father had on deposit with the Company?"

  He smiled. "It is safe, my dear. I was made trustee of several accounts in cases where the owners' whereabouts being unknown. Your father's was one."

  Relief flooded her. She had enough money to pay her passage to England, and to be independent when she arrived. Everett would have supported her, she was certain, but now she would not have to depend on his charity. Only one more hurdle. "I have no proof I am his heir."

  "You need none. I know you, know he meant the money for your dowry." His tone was reassuring. "I will make your funds available to you when you need them."

  They spoke a while longer, she telling him something of her life since she had last seen him, he relating his views on the changes the Americans had made in the government and society of the area. She knew she had stayed far too long when she glanced out the window and saw shadows lying long across the garden. "I must go," she said, rising. "Thank you for the advice and your help. If I may come back in a few days and make further arrangements?"

  Again he bowed over her hand. "Of course. In the meantime, I shall inquire about a ship. Hopefully we will see one bound for England before too many weeks have passed."

  William was still standing patiently at the gate when she emerged. Seeing him, McLoughlin said, "Next time send your man to the kitchen. No need for him to wait out here."

  "Thank you. I shall." Flower smiled at William as she passed him. He did not return the smile, and fell in behind her without a word.

  What a difference looking like a white woman made. The clerk at the store where she purchased tea and coffee, salt, sugar and flour, treated Flower with respect. His manner became even more courteous when she handed him a worn, heavy gold coin in payment. "Excuse me a moment," he told her, closing his hand around it. She watched as he went into a back room and set up a small balance, dropped the coin into one pan and added tiny weights to the other, one at a time. When he returned, he was smiling. "We value all gold coin by weight. Would you like your change in cash, or may I open an account for you?"

  Not knowing how long she would wait for her ship, she told him to open an account.

  The clerk bagged her purchases in a cotton flour sack. She reached for it.

  "You, boy! Take your mistress's parcel," the clerk called before she could take hold.

  William came from where he'd been waiting by the door. Silently he took the bag, stood aside for her to lead the way. She started for the door, turned back. "Do you have bonnets? Mine was...lost." About five years ago, I believe. I had forgotten that women--ladies-- wear bonnets whenever they go out.

  The clerk shook his head. "There is a dry goods store a few doors down. They will be able to help you, I think."

  Much as she would have preferred to censure the clerk for his rudeness to William, she smiled and thanked him.

  At the dry goods store, William waited outside once again, while she purchased a pretty straw bonnet. It was obviousl
y used, but the straw was still crisp and the ribbons new. Since she intended wearing it only in town, Flower did not care. She hated head coverings of any kind.

  You had best get used to them. In England you will wear them all the time. Remember the miniature of Everett's mother. She wore a lacy cap, even indoors.

  William didn't have anything to say as they walked back to camp. He'd been uneasy in town, even though nobody gave him more'n a quick, curious look. Something was gonna go wrong. He could feel it in his bones.

  Once in camp, Flower went behind a brush to change back into her buckskin dress and leggings. He still wasn't used to seeing her in the calico dress, and once she'd put the bonnet on, she'd been like a stranger to him. A white stranger.

  He could feel her goin' away from him already.

  Beowulf, who had dashed away as soon as he was released, returned, carrying a brown rabbit in his jaws. He offered it to William. "You're getting' pretty good." He told the dog, scratching down his spine. "Or did you just get lucky?"

  The dog gave his hand a lick and ran off again.

  Flower emerged and hung her dress and petticoat on a branch. "You are angry with me," she said, her back still to him.

  "No'm, I ain't."

  "Then why won't you speak to me? You have been silent all day. Are you sulking?"

  "What's that mean?"

  "It means," she said, turning and glaring at him, "that you act like a spoiled child who wants his own way."

  "Me? Look who's talkin'. You made up your mind to go off to England, and you won't listen to nobody who tells you different. I'll bet you didn't even ask that there McLoughlin what he thought about it. That's because you knowed he'd tell you it's a crazy idea." He set the cook pot down beside the fire ring with a hard thump. "Or did he anyhow?"

  "That is not of your..." She stopped and he could see her talking hold of her temper. "Yes, he did. At least he asked me if I was sure I knew what I was getting into."

  "Didn't change your mind, did it?"

  Her chin went up. "Why should it? I know what I am doing."

  "Woman, you ain't knowed what you was doing since them bassards caught you and treated you so ugly. You run off and hide. You forgot about your friends, all the folks who care about you."