Free Wilderness Days by Jennifer L. Holm Page B

men not capable of folding anything? “Perhaps two weeks, maybe three, my dear. I suppose it depends on how the negotiations go. We are not due at the rendezvous until next week. The journey itselfshall take only a few days by canoe, but we are going to pick up representatives from other tribes, and no doubt we shall visit with them for a time. I am looking forward to seeing other parts of this territory.” He waved his precious diary at me. “It shall be an adventure!”
    He strode to the door and I followed him onto the porch, tugging a blanket around my shoulders. It was barely light out, but William and his men, as well as Mr. Russell and Chief Toke, were already assembled in a little group in the clearing.
    “I see His Highness is leaving,” a voice at my side said.
    It was Jehu, a pack slung over his shoulder, his blue eyes fierce, one thick black curl flopped heartstoppingly over his forehead.
    “You were gonna marry that cussed fool?” he asked, shaking his head, disgust in his voice.
    I tugged my blanket tighter around me, forcing myself to remember that he was no better than William.
    “At least I’m becoming a more skillful judge of character,” I said.
    “Jane,” he said, “you’ve got the wrong idea—”
    “On the contrary, I understand your intentions perfectly.”
    He rubbed his hair in frustration. “Look, I’m heading over to M’Carty’s homestead. He broke his leg and his roof’s only half done, and winter’s on the way. Keer-ukso and I are going to lend a hand. We’ll probably get our meals over there.”
    “Your comings and goings are no concern of mine, Mr. Scudder.”
    “You’re stubborner than a mule,” Jehu retorted, and then stomped away before I could get another word in.
    “Who is he, your admirer?”
    I turned to see William perched on his horse. The way he held himself—with such arrogance and self-possession—infuriated me.
    “He’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” I said.
    “My, you’ve acquired quite a tongue,” William said. His next words were like a blow. “Then again, I imagine it’s from living unchaperoned on the frontier.”
    “You’re the reason I’m here, you, you—”
    Mr. Swan came bounding over. “Yoo-hoo, William!”
    “Cussed fool!” I finished furiously.
    “Well, my dear, we really must go!” Mr. Swan interrupted loudly, looking desperately between us. He donned a jaunty-looking cap. “Why don’t you and your men start out, William? Mr. Russell and Chief Toke and I shall be along in a minute.”
    William turned his horse and urged it forward without a backward glance.
    “He’s horrible,” I muttered, rubbing my stubby patch of hair.
    Mr. Swan gave me a strained smile. “It is a very big territory, my dear. I’m sure you won’t have to see him often. And now we must be going.”
    “You’re leaving me all alone again?”
    Mr. Swan had the good grace to look uncomfortable. The last time he had gone off with Mr. Russell and Chief Toke therehad been a smallpox outbreak. “Well, my dear,” he hedged, “you won’t be alone. Mr. and Mrs. Frink are within shouting distance.”
    I stared at the porch floor, focusing on an ant winding its way along the board.
    Mr. Swan laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Is something bothering you, Jane? Really, I’m sure you’ll be fine with Mrs. Frink here.”
    Was something bothering me?
Yes!
I wanted to shout. I’m tired of blasted Mrs. Frink. I’m tired of everyone ignoring me and taking me for granted and treating me like a maid.
    I’m tired of being so utterly alone.
    Instead I merely mumbled, “No.” I refused to meet his eyes. I stared down stubbornly at the floor.
    “Good girl. If you need anything, just ask—”
    “The Frinks,” I finished in a dull voice.
    “Don’t forget to milk Burton,” Mr. Russell called, spitting loudly. “Or she’ll bust.”
    I hoped she did just that.
    Because I had every intention of forgetting to milk the beast.

CHAPTER EIGHT
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