Undesirable, Page 2

  He glanced around at the various wagons in their group. This party was larger than the one he led a couple of years ago but small enough to get along well. The greater the numbers, the more potential he had for personality conflicts. He dismounted at his own camp, giving a nod to the men gathered around the fire. After seeing to Scamp’s comfort and tossing his hat into the wagon, he joined the rest of his crew.

  “We already ate, boss,” Lucky said, nodding at another one of his men. “Saved some for ya, though.”

  “Thank you.” He grinned at the younger man and took the clean plate Lefty held out with his good hand. Sam sliced off a hunk of cheddar and scooped out some beans. He worked to get pieces of ham into the ladle, too. “I appreciate you all not waiting to eat.”

  “I saw you ride over after talking with Warren,” said Arnold. “I mentioned to the others you might be a while.”

  Sam swallowed his bite of cheese before replying, “Yes, I had to do an errand for him.”

  Lefty nodded. “Figured as much, sir.”

  He ate, listening to their chatter. Sam didn’t bother asking about the livestock in their care. His ironclad policy was animals received care first. He’d picked good men for this trip. Sam knew Lucky from earlier travels, while Uncle Joe, Lefty, and Arnold were recent hires. He’d hated to see Monsieur Claude go. Considering the lovely woman le Monsieur married. However, Sam understood his reasons. He stared down at his spoon, thinking of Chuck and the illness taking him. The young man hadn’t deserved his fate. Cutting a too large piece of meat in half, he wondered about Larry, too. He’d disappeared just as he’d appeared, here one moment, a mystery the next. Sam missed his quiet cheer most of all.

  Unwilling to spend the rest of the evening morose, he asked, “So, gentlemen, are we set for the night’s watch?” Sam continued after their affirmative chorus, “Excellent. Cooks don’t wash up, so I’ll take care of the dishes.” He stood and collected their dishes, grinning at how scraped clean each plate was.

  He walked to the Platte, glad the full moon hovered over the eastern horizon. The air hung heavy with the scent of heated vegetation now cooling in the night air. As he drew closer to the river, he saw and heard others doing chores after the evening meal.

  Sam paused when he saw Marie already at the river. He’d wanted to put off any casual chatting until later, or at least until the sight of her didn’t recall today’s incident. He watched as she knelt, working to clean the Warrens’ dishes. Maybe her effort kept her too occupied to notice him, he hoped while approaching the bank.

  She glanced up at him, frowned, and returned to her scrubbing. His welcome smile faded as he said, “Mrs. Warren. I’m glad to see you this evening.”

  Not facing him, Marie responded, “Likewise, Mr. Granville.”

  He squatted next to the water, rinsing each dish and utensil. “Lovely evening, am I right?”

  “It is.” She scooped up some sand, using it to scrub off the crusted food.

  Sam snuck a peek over at her. Seeing her frown as she worked, he asked, “I trust your meal was as good as mine tonight?”

  Not pausing, she laughed, retorting, “It will be, I’m sure.”

  “You’ve not eaten?”

  She rinsed off the sand from the clean plate. “Not yet. That’s why I’m here, cleaning up something to hold our food.”

  He’d not noticed if Marie was the only person in the Warren group to cook. Sam shook his head at his lack of knowledge about the detail. The new men in his crew needed training and his attention more than he’d expected. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “So am I.” She began work on the third plate. “I’ve received a stern lecture on-”

  “Marie!” Charles and Hester walked up to them. “Are you not done, yet? We’re hungry.”

  “So am I, dearest.” She smiled and held up the dishes. “I’m almost finished and am ready to eat, too.”

  “Granville!” The older man took Sam’s hand to shake, clapping him on the shoulder at the same time. “Thank you for retrieving my wife, and sorry she was such a bother.”

  He glanced down at her still cleaning, saying, “Mrs. Warren couldn’t be a bother if she tried, sir.”

  Hester Warren shook her head while crossing her arms. “Passing notes and clandestine meetings in a saloon are vulgar.”

  Charles slapped him on the back. “Still, the next time she pulls a prank like this-”

  Marie stood, shaking water from the last plate. Her smile seemed strained to Sam as she said, “I’ve already promised to never do so again, Charles.”

  As if she’d not spoken, her husband continued, “As I was saying, next time we’ll be better prepared. One of your men can drag her back to camp, instead of you bothering to do so yourself.”

  Much like the idea of leaving her behind at the fort, the thought of any other man seeing Marie in such a dress infuriated him. “No. Absolutely not.” Sam felt like a water jug full of nothing but jealousy. “If it happens again, I’ll handle it myself, once and for all.” He looked at Marie, her eyes wide in her face. “But I won’t have to worry about another occurrence, will I?”

  Her eyes narrowed at him when she retorted, “Of course not, Mr. Granville. I’ve been scolded quite enough to have learned my lesson.”

  Warren spoke up, “Enough, Marie. We’re all hungry and will say things now we’ll regret later. Tell Granville goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” she said, frowning as she left the group.

  He almost tipped his hat from the force of habit. Instead, he smiled, saying, “Ma’am. Sleep well.” Sam watched her walk away, as did the other Warrens.

  Once Marie moved beyond earshot, Warren asked Sam, “Did she give you any trouble today?”

  Hester interjected, “Beyond the obvious of course.”

  Sam didn’t care for the older woman’s remark about Mrs. Warren. He looked from one to the other. The siblings appeared very similar. But where Charles kept a constant smile as an expression, Hester looked as if always displeased. He felt the need to defend her actions to these two. “Mrs. Warren was no trouble at all. I met her in the room. She was understandably disappointed I wasn’t you, and we left at separate times so as not to arouse suspicions.”

  The siblings had looked at each other before Charles said, “I don’t know if I can believe you, sir.”

  A red haze of anger swept Sam. He forced a smile before responding, “I don’t know if your approval matters, sir. I speak the truth.”

  The elder man laughed. “You're far too kind to my wife. I’ve been at the blunt end of her temper.”

  Sam lifted his chin as understanding hit him. He’d meant Mrs. Warren had caused a fuss and not the unsavory insinuation Sam reckoned in its place. “She was a perfect lady.”

  “Hmph!” Hester snorted.

  At her noise, Charles glanced over and smiled. “Now, now, Hess. She does try.”

  Ever striving to be diplomatic, Sam refrained from arguing with them over Marie’s actions. Instead, he wanted to excuse himself. “We’ll be on our way tomorrow. If your animals are struggling to pull the load, now is a good time to discard unnecessary items.”

  “Everything is necessary,” Hester retorted.

  “Maybe so, but with no oxen left alive, could you continue onward while pulling your own wagon?” Enjoying her shocked then surly expression, he smiled at Warren and tipped his hat. “It’s completely at your discretion, of course. Good evening.” Sam left for his own campsite, glad his group of men respected his authority.

  “Hey, Granville,” hollered Arnold. “We mailed your letters.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, settling to sit by the fire.

  “You got something, too.” Arnold hopped up and went to his saddlebags. “Looks like a letter from some lady.” He handed the envelope to Sam. Once seated, Lucky hit him on the arm. “Ow! What’s that for?”

  “You don’t look at a man’s letter when there’s a woman’s name on it.”

  “I didn’t read
it. I saw the name on the outside.” He rubbed his arm. “Don’t hit that hard unless you want some back.”

  “Thank you, Arnold. Appreciate it.” Looking over the envelope, he winced at the sender’s name. Sam didn’t want to read anything from Anne now. He’d hoped his mother had sent the letter to say that his brother, Nick, had a new son. Sam would rather hear news of a nephew any day over some mea culpa from his former fiancée’.

  Lucky hollered at him, “So, Mr. Granville, did Jenny happen to see anything she liked at that Indian trade today?”

  The other men all teased him for his question. After they had quieted, Sam replied, “I noticed her lingering over a couple of things.”

  “You might have to show me what they were, just in case.”

  He laughed when his hands chimed in again, causing Lucky to turn an even deeper shade of red. “I can do that. Before we leave Laramie, you and I can break off and see what’s available for her.”

  “Much obliged.” Lucky bowed his head over his dish, still receiving catcalls from his friends.

  After a quick meal, Sam tore into the letter. Anne had written an apology, much as he’d suspected. The second half, telling him of her new daughter, hurt more than he had imagined.

  Arnold asked, “What’s the matter, boss?”

  Larry looked over at Sam’s expression. “You look like someone cooked your last chicken.”

  Sam smiled at Larry’s comment. “It’s fine. My former fiancé has had a girl with her new husband. She and the baby are well, and all are happy.”

  “Should I have lost the letter?” asked Arnold. When Uncle Joe nudged him, he protested, “What? Next time he gets something from her, I can have something happen to it instead.”

  “It’s fine, Arnie. If I get a letter at one of the forts, I will want it no matter who it’s from.”

  Arnold smirked at Uncle Joe and said, “Will do, boss.”

  Sam put the letter among his personal belongings, saying, “We should begin watch and bedding down for the night.”

  Used to the procedure, his men began their nightly duties. Later, Sam lay in his bedroll and watched the embers. Marie had captured his attention so entirely. While he’d not forgotten about Anne, his former fiancée had become less important as the weeks passed. The two women didn’t match up to each other. They did look similar, but he’d known Anne most of his life, while Marie remained a mystery. Comparisons between the two women dominated his mind as he fell asleep.

  The new day started hot and humid despite the night’s cool air. As the sun rose, Sam sweated with the least little effort. He’d become used to dry days, and now his shirt clung to him, increasing his discomfort. People and animals plodded along. They made their way along the rocky road and through the thick air. He’d not been hungry but stopped the group at noon, feeling the sick, and young needed the rest. He didn’t want anyone to have a reason to climb up or jump off a moving wagon just for food or water. Better to halt altogether than have a child crushed under a wheel. After being witness to such an event once before, the horror haunted him still.

  He kept watch on the sky. Little puffs of clouds had been gathering all morning. By noon, they’d amassed into rainclouds. A couple of massive thunderheads won the race for moisture in the mid-afternoon. He let all of them drive into a refreshing rain, cold, but not as much as showers in the past. The storm ended as they entered the Black Hills.

  Later that day, helping the Warrens over an unusually wide creek was grueling for Sam. The old maid sister kept giving him the come hither look, while Charles frequently offered unsound advice, and Marie was just herself. He vowed no matter what it took, someone else would help them next time.

  Before he could ride away, Marie waved to him. “Mr. Granville, Ellen read to us from the guidebook about how even though illnesses decrease on our journey, the amount of poisoned water we encountered would increase. Has this been your experience as well?” she asked.

  “Sadly, yes,” he replied. “A few people will die from various causes, but in my experience, accidents and illness are the main reasons. I’ve heard of Indian attacks and murders, but have been lucky to not experience them first hand.”

  “I’d hoped to see fewer graves as we went west.” She shook her head. “We’ve walked past so many along the way.” They watched the children for a moment until she asked, “How many of us will die too soon, do you suppose?”

  Sam stared at her, feeling like a weight crushed his chest. He'd never considered losing Marie to illness or injury. “Us? I’m counting on not losing anyone else.” He preferred she go back home to New Orleans today than die on the trail at any time in the future. He looked at her, knowing his expression showed his feelings but unable to stop the display.

  Marie broke their stare at each other, her cheeks flushed. “I’ve expected deaths from childbirth, old age, and Indians. There are much more ways in the American desert, I'm sure.”

  He grinned at her. “You personally might need to worry about childbirth before Indians.”

  She'd stopped smiling at him, instead frowning while watching the children play. “You'd think so, wouldn't you?”

  Sam couldn't read her expression. “We can worry later. Right now, we need to get these youngsters back to their families for travel.”

  Marie helped him with ensuring every child was counted and ready to go. He'd relied on his men to get the adults ready. As families finished gathering together, their wagons began rolling. When Hester joined them, Sam nodded to both Warren ladies and left for the front. He wanted to discuss campsites for tonight with Arnold, Uncle Joe, and Lucky. Lefty and a couple of the group’s men brought up the rear this afternoon. They'd have their turn picking campsites tomorrow night when they led the party and enjoyed the day without breathing in the dust clouds.

  Trying to pay attention to the tasks at hand, Sam still couldn’t focus on what needed doing. Marie and the request he spurned back at Laramie took over all his thoughts. He’d thought her pretty enough when they’d first met. The fact that she was a little older than him and married, not to mention Anne’s betrayal, had distracted him from what now seemed all too clear. The woman appealed to Sam in a basic, carnal way. A way he wanted to shake like a dog would water from his fur.

  He thanked God his hands had everything down to a fine art by now. Duties were fast becoming habits, the way Sam liked it. Stopping for noon, helping decide the evening’s camp, they knew what to do. When people in his party did their tasks and kept a routine, any problems showed up sooner rather than later. An inconsistent schedule might mean people were left behind to wander the land on their own. Every mile west also brought them closer to the Sioux Indians who roamed the area. The Sioux he’d dealt with were friendly despite how he’d heard others found them hostile and prone to stealing everything in sight. He shook his head, not agreeing with the assessment. At the kernel of every bit of gossip had been a white man’s mischief.

  Sam moseyed around the camp later in the night, trying to stay sharp. Scamp snorted, and he patted his horse in reassurance. He didn't want to be on night duty, either. Still, he couldn't ask his men to do what he wouldn't. Looking around in the darkness, he didn’t expect any varmints or bandits to wait for daylight. At least, he figured, the smart ones would use the cover night provided. Hushed voices caught his attention and Sam realized with a start he'd ridden next to the Warren's wagon. Despite knowing it was wrong, he couldn't help listening.

  “Please, Charles, I need you.”

  He couldn’t hear what Mr. Warren replied, but he heard Marie’s plea. “Please love me, dearest. Hester’s asleep and I promise to be quieter this time.”

  Living amongst married people meant accidentally overhearing couples’ intimacies. Still, randomly listening didn't mean being rude by continuing to listen in on private time. Sam gave couples the same courtesy he hoped others would give him if he were married. He also insisted his men did the same. None of those who crossed the line and gossiped continued in his
employ. His body stirring in response to the thought of her making noisy love, he moved on instead of lingering, keeping his emotions in check.

  A couple of things about Marie were now clear to him. She wasn't frigid by a long shot, and she desired her husband. Sam imagined how in her husband’s place, he might cover her mouth with his own as he satisfied her, to keep down the noise. She’d not have to request a second time if he were in Warren’s place. Sam shook his head, knowing how dwelling on Mrs. Warren might mean he’d need a dip in the Platte until the desire eased.

  Tired from last night’s lack of sleep, Sam yawned before scanning the sea of noontime activity from atop his horse. The wagons lined up in rows along the thin creek, letting everyone take advantage of water for themselves and their animals. He dismounted and led Scamp to the water. While the animal drank, a familiar voice caught his attention. He looked downstream, seeing Marie and Jimmy take advantage of the flat part of the sandy creek bed.

  “No odds for you, young man!” She laughed, “You missed all ten pins fair and square.” Marie threw the ball back to the boy, so it’d roll to him, “I’ll give you another try.” The ball went past him, and Jimmy scrambled to catch the ball before it hit Sam’s feet.

  The boy almost ran into him before stopping and said, “Hello, sir.” Scooping up the ball, he added, “My turn!”

  Marie walked up to Sam, smiling as she said, “Oh! Mr. Granville, please excuse us!”

  He returned her grin even as his heart thumped. “Of course, I will, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me as well. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your sport.” He saw her cheeks flush as she turned to watch Jimmy’s roll and the result.