Read Online White Nights by Susan Edwards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Edwards
Ads: Link
time—past time, in fact—for her to stand on her own two feet. After all, when she reached Oregon, they’d all be spread apart and she’d truly be on her own.
Alone. On her own. Those words sent frissons of fear darting through her. Knowing if she dwelled on it, she’d take the easy way and continue as she had for the last month, she put it from her mind. Quickly, she unbraided her hair, combed her fingers through the long golden-red ripples that fell to her waist then twisted the strands into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. As much as she’d like to dally, to put off starting the new day, certain bodily functions couldn’t be ignored a moment longer. She left the tent.
In the predawn grayness, she eyed the shadowy figures of women moving about. Some headed for the river with dinged and dented pots swaying in their hands as they walked, while others grouped together in small, silent clusters. A young woman, also pregnant, motioned for Eirica to join them.
She joined the five women who stood in a tight circle facing outward. Each held their skirts fanned out to the sides and in the center, they shielded a woman relieving herself. When the woman stood, she smiled at Eirica and motioned that they should trade places.
Eirica took care of her bodily needs in the same fashion and when done, she traded places with another woman, fanning her skirts out to the sides. She stayed until another woman came and took her place. This method of women providing one another some measure of privacy worked when they camped together. When her group was off alone, the men erected a canvas latrine. With only her and Coralie wearing dresses, they couldn’t shield each other very well.
Back at her tent, she started a fire in the cold pit from the night before, then put a pot of water on to boil. This was her favorite time of day—before children and the trail made demands on her. Cradling a cup of hot tea between her palms, she used the last of her cherished moments before the sky turned gray-blue to gather her thoughts and plan her day.
By the time she roused her children, the aromatic scent of roasting coffee beans and frying bacon mingled with wood smoke. Men left their warm cocoons of quilts and grabbed cups of coffee before driving out oxen and mules from wagon enclosures or rounding up stock left to wander and graze at will. After the animals were yoked, wagon wheels and axles had to be checked, tents taken down and wagons packed.
Watching the bustle of activity increase around her, Eirica hurriedly washed down two dry biscuits with the remainder of her cold tea. Her children ate their meal of cold bacon and biscuits topped with butter and a thin layer of precious jam while kneeling around a wooden box that served as a table. Brushing crumbs from her apron, she sighed, longing for the day when she could fix a real breakfast again: thick slices of ham, fresh eggs and hot slices of buttery bread. And coffee. Hot, strong, sweet, with just a tad of cream.
But making a pot of coffee just for her consumption didn’t seem worth the effort, and cooking in the morning following a sleepless night required more energy than she usually possessed. Soon, she promised herself.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed her children were done with their meal as well. Three faces with jam smeared on their cheeks and white mustaches on their upper lips greeted her. Smiling, she washed the sticky fingers and faces. “Now, go play while Mama finishes cleaning up. Alison girl, keep an eye on your brother.”
“Yes, Mama.” Alison grabbed hold of Ian’s hand and they ran off. Lara followed more slowly, clutching her tattered blanket.
After wiping off the tin plates and rinsing the cups, Eirica packed the leftover bread from the evening meal and the cold meat from the antelope Wolf had provided the night before into an unbleached muslin pouch for the noon stop. After placing it and the Dutch oven with rising bread dough into the wagon where she
Alone. On her own. Those words sent frissons of fear darting through her. Knowing if she dwelled on it, she’d take the easy way and continue as she had for the last month, she put it from her mind. Quickly, she unbraided her hair, combed her fingers through the long golden-red ripples that fell to her waist then twisted the strands into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. As much as she’d like to dally, to put off starting the new day, certain bodily functions couldn’t be ignored a moment longer. She left the tent.
In the predawn grayness, she eyed the shadowy figures of women moving about. Some headed for the river with dinged and dented pots swaying in their hands as they walked, while others grouped together in small, silent clusters. A young woman, also pregnant, motioned for Eirica to join them.
She joined the five women who stood in a tight circle facing outward. Each held their skirts fanned out to the sides and in the center, they shielded a woman relieving herself. When the woman stood, she smiled at Eirica and motioned that they should trade places.
Eirica took care of her bodily needs in the same fashion and when done, she traded places with another woman, fanning her skirts out to the sides. She stayed until another woman came and took her place. This method of women providing one another some measure of privacy worked when they camped together. When her group was off alone, the men erected a canvas latrine. With only her and Coralie wearing dresses, they couldn’t shield each other very well.
Back at her tent, she started a fire in the cold pit from the night before, then put a pot of water on to boil. This was her favorite time of day—before children and the trail made demands on her. Cradling a cup of hot tea between her palms, she used the last of her cherished moments before the sky turned gray-blue to gather her thoughts and plan her day.
By the time she roused her children, the aromatic scent of roasting coffee beans and frying bacon mingled with wood smoke. Men left their warm cocoons of quilts and grabbed cups of coffee before driving out oxen and mules from wagon enclosures or rounding up stock left to wander and graze at will. After the animals were yoked, wagon wheels and axles had to be checked, tents taken down and wagons packed.
Watching the bustle of activity increase around her, Eirica hurriedly washed down two dry biscuits with the remainder of her cold tea. Her children ate their meal of cold bacon and biscuits topped with butter and a thin layer of precious jam while kneeling around a wooden box that served as a table. Brushing crumbs from her apron, she sighed, longing for the day when she could fix a real breakfast again: thick slices of ham, fresh eggs and hot slices of buttery bread. And coffee. Hot, strong, sweet, with just a tad of cream.
But making a pot of coffee just for her consumption didn’t seem worth the effort, and cooking in the morning following a sleepless night required more energy than she usually possessed. Soon, she promised herself.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed her children were done with their meal as well. Three faces with jam smeared on their cheeks and white mustaches on their upper lips greeted her. Smiling, she washed the sticky fingers and faces. “Now, go play while Mama finishes cleaning up. Alison girl, keep an eye on your brother.”
“Yes, Mama.” Alison grabbed hold of Ian’s hand and they ran off. Lara followed more slowly, clutching her tattered blanket.
After wiping off the tin plates and rinsing the cups, Eirica packed the leftover bread from the evening meal and the cold meat from the antelope Wolf had provided the night before into an unbleached muslin pouch for the noon stop. After placing it and the Dutch oven with rising bread dough into the wagon where she
Similar Books
