“Because it’s not right to change everything all at once.”

Ellis turned to Charlotte.  “We talked about it,” she said.

“What do I know?  Do you know anything Miller?”

“I really don’t,” Miller said.

38

In the morning, Charlotte glanced up from baking bread in the mess hall kitchen and Chace was standing watching her.  Her hand flew to her heart.

“You scared me.  It’s not real to me yet that you’re here.”

“Sometime I’ll tell you where I’ve been and you’ll know how real it is to me.  The dreams didn’t come back, did they?”

“No, and I’ll owe you for that forever.”

“Your hair’s grown some.”

“People still look at me.”

“Let them.”

She nodded at the woolen uniform jacket.  “I can’t get used to seeing you in that.”

“Helps with coming back into this world, but also it’s all I had.”

“Chace, they want to keep on going to Oregon Territory.”

“I already talked to Ellis and Miller about it.”

“You did?”

“Ellis got word that a wagon train from back east would hire him for getting over the mountains.  Miller and I’d divide up the scouting between us so the other one could stay with the wagon.”

“You’re serious that you’d go?”

“I promise you I don’t know one living thing about goats or geese, or wagon trains either, but I’m good at what I do know.”

“Ellis said you’re better than anybody living or dead.”

“That’s Ellis.  Can you spare some time?”

“Yes, soon,” she said.  “I’m almost done.”

He sat down on the table with his boot heels resting on the bench.

The bugle sounded and noise issued from the parade ground.  “I suppose that’s familiar to you,” she said.

Chace looked out the door of the mess hall.  “Assembly of the guard duty.  You get used to it.”

“Brewster’s learned all of it.  He’s like that.”

“They’re easy to be around.”

“Are you relieved?”

“I wasn’t ever worried.  I trust you.”

“If that’s true, you’re only the second person who ever has.  There’s something on your mind, though.  What is it?”

“There’s a lot of silence out there in the high country.  So much of it that sometimes you begin to hear voices.”

“Oh, no.  Voices aren’t good, are they?”

“My people’s voices.  And the old ones tell you when that happens, you always listen.”

“Did you?”

“You have to.”

“What did the voices say?”

“They said I was wrong.  They said that’s not what I was supposed to be doing, living and dying in the empty canyons.”

“What were you supposed to be doing?”

“Finding a wife.”

Charlotte hesitated for only one heartbeat.  “What kind of wife?” she said.

“The kind that plays cutthroat poker and fries squirrels.  And has four children.”

“Or five.”