“They won’t hurt you.” Charlotte glanced up, wondering again about this child. And those women would hurt her. Charlotte knew that instinctively. She would wait till they’d had their fill and moved on.
“What you don’t know, little girl.” When the women dispersed, Charlotte signaled Ada to move the horses on again. As they drew abreast of the marker, Ada halted the horses herself and jumped down.
“What is it?”
“You were right,” Charlotte said. She bent down to read the inscription crudely carved into the slab of wood leaning over a small pile of rocks. Ada was beside her.
“Benjamin John Parker. Born and died in the same year. What must that be like, to hardly get to be here?” As Charlotte watched, Ada took off her wildflower necklace and hung it from one corner of the piece of wood. “Rest in peace, little one,” she said, and Charlotte’s eyes stung.
“Are you still going to ride with me?” Charlotte asked.
“I can’t. I’ve been away too long already.”
“Do you have the biscuit for Brewster?”
Ada patted her dress. “It’s in my pocket.”
“Don’t worry, I really do like you. I just can’t let you know, that’s all.” Ada grinned. Charlotte had a thought. “Wait. How many of you are there?”
“If you mean children, five altogether with the baby.”
Charlotte climbed up onto the seat and reached back into the wagon for the tin. She held it out to Ada. “Here. Take all of them. But today it’s for your family. Tell Brewster not to go parceling them out one crumb at a time. I’ll make more tomorrow that he can divide up any way he wants.”
Ada grinned again then walked quickly off holding the precious cargo in both her hands.
11
11
In the afternoon, Charlotte made peace with the dust, the heat, the stench of the cattle, the loneliness, the absence of Ellis Gray. Who was, she reminded herself again, being paid to escort her to Fort Randall. What kind of escort was it who never laid eyes on you? She could be back here dead, asleep and fallen off the wagon, run over, cracked her head, took a seizure, whatever it was, and he’d be the last person to know.
She decided to think more about Miller Dawson. She’d caught glimpses of two older girls who she bet had none of Ada’s reticence when discussing this young man. His smile was enough by itself. But if they cared to dig further, she sensed that there was a whole other person behind the smile.
Then, she considered as the wagon rocked along behind the weary team, there was the question of practical, care-worn but completely sane women swooning over Ellis Gray. Get to know him, she wanted to tell them. Realize that you’ll never see him. That his heart’s broken. That he’s torn up inside. And crazy maybe.