Hats and critters
1243 Words
*Briony*
It was well past noon before we reached a small stream. As Wade waters and feeds the mules and his horse, I sit on a log, using a fork to dig beans out of a can that he had opened for me.
I can't hear his words, only his voice, as he talks to the mare. Neither of us has spoken as the wagon has traveled away from Fort Worth. From time to time, I glance over my shoulder. He has never once looked back.
He crosses the clearing and hunkers down before me, his right shoulder close to my drawn-up knees. His black duster parts, revealing the gun strapped to his thigh. It serves as a gentle reminder that I am headed toward an untamed land.
"My apologies for the simple meal, but I didn't want to take the time for a fire," he says quietly. "We'll have a better meal come evening."
"I'm truly grateful that you thought to bring some canned goods." I tell him.
Removing his hat, he studies me. "You've eaten worse."
I smile softly. "As a matter of fact, I have."
"Yep, me, too." He says.
Standing, he settles his hat on his head. "You can wash up by the stream. We'll be leaving soon."
I rise and begin to walk toward the water.
"Miss Starweaver?" He calls softly.
I glance over my shoulder. His profile is to me again, and he seems to be studying something in the distance. "Yes, beta Moonshadow?"
"Once, when I stopped by a stream to wash the dust off, I laid my hat beside me. A raccoon carted it away." He grinds his jaw back and forth. "If you were to take off your hat while you were washing up, some critter might haul it away."
"I'm so grateful you shared that with me. I'll make certain I guard the hat well." I respond.
I think he grimaces before he turns away. I stroll to the water's edge and kneel beside the stream. The hat, with all its accessories, weighs heavy on my head. I have considered removing the bird or some of the ribbons. I have even considered pretending that I have never received the hat, but I have no talent for telling lies. Chase would see through my deceit, and I don't want to risk hurting his feelings after he's gone to so much trouble.
I dip my hands into the cool water. I can't recall Wade ever initiating a conversation between us. He politely answers my questions, but for the most part, he keeps quiet. Yet he has openly shared the story of the raccoon and his hat, although he has appeared uncomfortable reciting his tale as though he has feared offending me. I imagine he has been quite put out not to have his hat, since he seldom removes it.
I catch sight of my reflection wavering in the water, the bird bobbing with my movements. The hat is so incredibly unattractive. I wear it because Chase has sent it to me, because it is a gift and I have received so few in my life.
I glance over my shoulder and wonder if Wade isn't offering me a gift as well: an honorable way to lose the hat without hurting anyone's feelings.
I rise and walk to the wagon where he is tightening the ropes that hold the tarpaulin in place over the supplies. "You don't like my hat," I state in as flat a tone as I can manage.
He visibly stiffens, his hands stilling. "No, ma'am." He removes his hat and meets my gaze. "I think it's the most damn-awful ugly thing I've ever seen."
I release a tiny squeal and cover my mouth.
Regret reshapes his features. "My apologies, Miss Starweaver. I had no right..."
"No!" I hold up a hand to stay his apology and move my other hand away from my face to reveal my smile. "I think it's awful, too."
"Then why in the Goddess’ name are you wearing it?" he asks, clearly stunned.
I sigh softly. "Because it was a gift from your brother."
He slaps his hat against his duster. "Well, it's not very practical. Your nose is already turning red."
I press my fingers to the tip of my nose. I can feel the slight prickling of my skin. I had worn a bonnet to protect my face when I worked in the cotton fields following the war. I had hoped never to have to wear a bonnet again. "I'm not overly fond of bonnets," I say as I gnaw on my lower lip.
"If a raccoon were to carry your hat away, you could borrow the hat I bought for Blaise," he offers.
"Do you think he would mind?" I ask.
He shrugs. "If he minds, he can keep his old hat. I just bought it because I didn't know what else to get him, and we don't get into town much. He might not even want it."
"I don't want to hurt Chase's feelings. The hat was a gift." I admit.
"The hat was a way for me to recognize you. You've been recognized." He says with a small shrug.
A twinge of guilt still pricks at my conscience. "Do you think he'll wear the band I embroidered around his hat?"
"No, ma'am. I can guarantee you he won't be wearing it." He says.
"I could just pack the hat away, I suppose." I mumble.
He shakes his head. "Got no room in the wagon for anything else."
I know that for the lie it is. A little less than half the wagon remains empty. "You really dislike the hat."
"If you pack it away, there's gonna come a day when company's gonna come to call, and he's gonna want you to wear it... in front of people who need to respect him. The way I see it, in the long run, you'll be doing him a favor if it goes no farther west than this." He says with a small shrug.
"Are there raccoons around here?" I ask.
He nods. "Yes, ma'am."
"I think I need to give my face a good scrubbing." I say.
He nods. "I'll find Blaise's hat."
I walk to the stream and kneel. Reaching up, I remove the hat and study it. Chase had bought it for me so he could identify me. It had served its purpose. I set it beside me and viciously scrub my face, praying he would never discover my deceit. I lift my skirt and wipe the cool water from my face before casting a sideways glance at the hat. It remains untouched.
I rise to my feet and walk to the wagon. Wade hands me a black broad-brimmed hat.
"Are you sure Blaise won't mind?" I ask as I adjust the positioning of the hat on my head.
"I'm sure." He places his hands on my waist and lifts me onto the wagon, then settles in beside me.
"I feel guilty," I say as he reaches for the reins.
He gives me a short look. "Don't."
He flicks the reins and the mules begin to pull the wagon across the stream. I wait until the wagon has cleared the shallow stream before glancing back. The hat remains where I left it.
"Do you really think a raccoon will take it away?" I ask.
"Yes, ma'am. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But someday."
- Writer
