Ellis Gray had returned to lead her wagon out before the circle formed for the noon break.  He was still scowling.  He said nothing, then disappeared again.  In the evening, she washed discreetly in the stream they’d camped by and hung her drawers out to dry.  She cooked beans with chilies and hard sausage, enough for two, then ate by herself.  She knew Ellis Gray slept beside her wagon.  She’d been ripped from sleep by the urge to scream, somehow kept the scream from rising in her throat, then, fully awake, looked out to see him in the faint moonlight, dead to the world, his head resting on his saddle.  He was gone before the sun rose.

She made biscuits for breakfast and saved enough for the day.  She brushed the horses and fed them oats.  When the sentinel called out for movement and the wagons began to lumber forward, she sighed and took the reins.  Loneliness was nothing, she finally told herself, compared to a hanging.  Her life lay in front of her now, somewhere.  And obviously Ellis Gray had character deficiencies, interior quarrels, discontents of his own.

Charlotte was saved from the trail’s monotony, as she’d felt she was going to be, by the appearance of Ada standing at the side of the track and waiting for her.  This time, she stopped the wagon voluntarily, providing no obstacle to the girl climbing up and joining her on the seat.

“You’ve got a different dress on,” Charlotte said.

“You don’t,” Ada observed.

“True, but I did wash my drawers, which I’ll bet you didn’t.  What happened to your apron?”

“So many things.  What is that smell?”

“What smell?”

Ada closed her eyes and sniffed the air.  “The good one.”

“You don’t think you’re referring to biscuits, do you?”

“Could be, but I won’t ask for one.”

“Why, because you’re so stubborn?  Reach down.  They should be right back there in a tin.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but notice that Ada climbed over her in the same way that she’d climbed over Ellis Gray, which gave her pause.  Familiarity, perhaps misplaced.  Then Ada suddenly leaned too far and tumbled into the wagon.  Charlotte knew that now she was in for it.

“What is this sheet music?” Ada called out.  It had taken two seconds for the girl to start finding things.

“Don’t know.”

“Do you play?” Ada said loudly.

“No.  Do you?”

“I wanted to but it’s hard without a piano.”

“That would be true.”

“What are all these books for?”

“To sleep on,” Charlotte said.

Ada climbed back out of the wagon holding two biscuits.  “Have you read them all?”

“Lots.  Not all.  Do you read?”

Ada was indignant.  “Of course I read.”

“Good.  Then I’ll pick out the ones you need most and give them to you.  Books are as important as anything.  But two biscuits?  Really?”