Chronicles Of The Maca Collection

Chapter 24

The next day was warmer as the heavy clouds had moved on. Soon it would be cooler and the rains would come. Anna chose a spot in the river that was as hidden as possible and bathed. She thanked God that no one came and Mr. MacDonald was true to his word. He did not approach. He was a big man and she had felt the hardness of his muscles when he picked her up at the Comanche camp. She had seen that pattern of muscles on his back and knew she was no match in strength. Her respect for him had grown; grudgingly, but grown.

It was a relief to don her slip and skirt. She had fashioned a loop on the band on the left of the open area and put two small ties on the opposite side. By threading one through the loop and tying the two together, the skirt would remain up. She strode back into the camp area.

MacDonald"s eyes opened wider as he watched her approach. This was indeed a magnificent lassie. Her stride was long, her shoulders broad, and her head held high. He had seen few other women as tall and they tended to stoop and lower their heads. Not this one. The white hair was a plus in his eyes. In Thalia, this denoted authority, someone from a ruling House.

“I can tend to the cooking this evening, Mr. MacDonald.” He had the two rabbits cooking in the Dutch oven. She knew the biscuits needed to be mixed and rounded before adding to the Dutch oven. Their flour was almost gone. Soon there would be nothing but meat.

He smiled at her and took the soap. “Ye look magnificent.” With that he trudged off with the water barrel on his shoulder.

He returned about thirty minutes later carrying the full water barrel. Anna was awed each time he had done this. No man was his equal in strength that she had ever seen. When the barrel was securely lashed inside the cart he came over to the fire.

“How tis the coffee holding out?”

“There should be enough for another day.”

He sighed. “It tis nay my favorite beverage, but it does wash things down. How long ere supper?”

“I think about five or ten minutes for the biscuits. Does Kasper have any way of getting fruits or vegetables?” She was thinking of her own gardens in Missouri and Texas. This ground seemed drier less like good farming soil, but it was late summer or early fall. She had not seen a calendar for almost two years.

“There are canned ones. I believe Mrs. Schmidt said something about a garden next year if Kasper could finish the fence. It seems the small animals feasted on everything.”

The evening meal passed in silence. Anna was thinking of her reception. Would she be welcomed? Perhaps at first, and then the doubts, the misconceptions, the accusations would begin. Was she really wise to return?

She finished her meal and stood. “I should do the cleanup this evening. You have been very kind in doing what I should have been doing while sewing.”

MacDonald swallowed the last of his meat and smiled. “I ate the food also. That means I"m responsible for part of the dishes.”

“Most men would not have done so.”

His smile was broader. “I am nay most men. We"ll each wash our own.”

Dusk was falling into night when they returned to the fire for the days were growing shorter. “I doubt if there tis anyone out there this eve, but I twould like to rest for a few hours as my sleep has been short on this trip. Tis it possible for ye to stay awake for a few hours and then wake me about midnight?”

Anna was struck with the realization that he must have had reasons for sleeping while she stitched at the material. “Of course, I can, Mr. MacDonald. I"ll sit here and walk back and forth.”

Amusement lit her eyes. “It"s too bad there isn"t a book to read or more sewing.”

MacDonald handed her his pocket watch, and then spread out his blanket before lying down. He pulled his hat over his eyes, held his rifle over his chest, and went instantly into a light doze.

How does he do that? Anna found the man puzzling. There was something more than size or politeness that made him different. Was it the rolling, rocking movement while he walked? It did seem his arms were set forward more than others, but that could be from the muscular structure. No, it was something else. She shrugged. She had no reason to suspect his intentions. If he had meant to harm her, he would not have waited so long.

She walked around the camp and then sat by the fire. Sometimes she added more fuel, but when she felt sleepy she would stand and walk again. By ten o"clock she began singing the hymns she remembered. She kept her voice low and only sang at the edge of camp or down towards the river. It was maddening how slowly the hours seemed to creep.

At midnight, she stood near his makeshift sleeping area and spoke. She did not touch him. That would have been wrong. “Mr. MacDonald, it is midnight.”

He took off his hat, sat up, ran a hand through his hair, replaced his hat, took a firm grip on his rifle, stood, and farted.

“My apologies, Mrs. Lawrence. Thank ye for waking me.” He stalked off toward the edge of camp.

Anna smiled. It was what people did when they awoke, but at least he was polite. Within minutes she was asleep.

The words, “Mrs. Lawrence, the morning fare tis prepared,” seemed to buzz in her head within minutes. She opened her eyes and realized that dawn was streaking its gold and pink lines across the sky.

“Ja, Herr MacDonald,” she answered and stood, quickly flapping the blanket as though to clear any grass and dirt, but in reality to hide the sound of her own morning air. She hurried to the latrine area after putting the blanket in the cart.

She returned to find her plate filled with fried potatoes mixed with the leftover rabbit meat.

“I fear our meals twill be mostly rabbit the rest of the journey. A stop at Arles would have enabled me to purchase some canned goods and more flour.”

Anna bowed her head and then looked directly at him. “Mr. MacDonald, your meals have been bountiful. You have spent too much of your own money on me.”

“Mrs. Lawrence, yere idea and my idea of bountiful do nay coincide. Some of the money I have spent will be reimbursed by the Eighth Infantry when I return the mules and the cart.”

A slight flush filled her cheeks. “I, I forgot, it had been so long since I had a full meal. That was wrong of me. Is it too late to go back?”

The amusement was back in his eyes and that smile tugging at his mouth. “Yes, it is. Schmidt"s Corner is closer.” He began to eat and Anna bowed her head before taking her first bite.

“You will let me wash and mend your clothes for repayment before you leave, won"t you?”

“I have a spare set of clothes at the Rolfe"s, but, aye, if ye insist, ye may wash and mend them.”

Silence reigned again, but it was a different silence. The tension had disappeared.

That evening they talked and gradually Anna"s tale spilled out in response to MacDonald"s gentle probing. She had “felt” something was wrong that morning and was packing necessities when the two boys began fighting. She had sent Daniel out to be with his father for an eight-year-old was capable of working in the fields. Plus, Mr. Lawrence had taken all the firearms. She felt he would protect his own son. Margareatha and Lorenz she had sent out to gather the early corn. She planned to take that with them when they left. Just as she was ready to step out of the door, Auggie needed to be changed. That"s when the Comanche rode up. She closed her eyes for a moment and completely changed the subject.

“How long will we be on the road tomorrow?”

“We twill be in Schmidt"s Corner tomorrow afternoon in time for supper.”

Anna gasped air into her lungs and slowly let it out.

“Will you be eating with us?”

“I would nay infringe on yere reunion. My friend, Herman Rolfe, always has a place for me at his table.”

Anna looked at the fire. In a way, she was disappointed. This was madness, but she respected this man, respected his strength and his kindness. It was a dream for she was still married and her children still lived. No man would be interested in her.

“Ye twere fortunate the Comanche did nay kill ye and just take the baby.”

His comment made her snap her head up. “I grabbed the broom and knocked one of them down. I was going for the second man when the third came out of the cabin carrying Auggie by the heel. What could I do? He was going to bash my baby"s head against the doorframe.”

“Dear Gar, woman, do ye nay ken it tis a wonder they did nay kill ye then and there.”

“Even men have enough sense to know the baby needed my milk to live.” This time she looked away. Why was she being so bold?

MacDonald"s shoulders were shaking. “And if the mither twas such a warrior, think what the son twould be.”

“They laughed at the one I knocked down. I think he did want to kill me.”

“Of course, he did. Ye humiliated him. He probably made yere life miserable.”

Anna nodded her head. “His woman was the one that spit on me when they cut off my ears.” She stood and walked with long angry strides toward the latrine area.

It was MacDonald"s turn to drag in his breath. This lassie twas a warrior. Nay did he think he twould ere find such a counselor in this land. He must find a way to wed her. How did one court here? Friend Rolfe could give him pointers. He had already promised to help her find the proof to divorce her husband. That should keep them in communication. The idea that she might discover his two hearts never occurred to him. He took his rifle and stood.