Sweet Sarah Ross. Julie Tetel

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СКАЧАТЬ was in front of him. “No, but it’s plain you haven’t traveled much.” She was sorry that he had turned his back to her, for he missed her rather superior smile. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been to England and back.”

      To that he made no response.

      “Two years ago it was, and my chaperon was an elderly lady who needed more care than she gave. So I assure you that I have dealt with many demanding situations as a traveler abroad and proved myself equal to all occasions.”

      “Ah. Now tell me. What language do they speak in England?”

      Poor, ignorant man-beast! “They speak English, sir, and it is a version very similar to that which you and I speak.”

      “The dwellings the English inhabit, what manner would they be? And what manner of conveyance do the English commonly use?”

      “They live in houses, some of which are like palaces, and they often ride in carriages.”

      “I see. Tell me something else. What language do the Sioux speak?”

      “Indian, I suppose.”

      “What manner of dwelling do they inhabit?”

      “I have heard they live in rough tents called tepees.”

      “And have you encountered any roads or carriageways in the past few days?”

      She caught the man’s drift and was annoyed. “I gather it is your objective to emphasize the dissimilarities in my two traveling experiences,” she said evenly, “but I can tell you that crossing a vast ocean is a very demanding experience.”

      “We’re not on the ocean now, we don’t enjoy the protection of a ship with a well-stocked hold, and we aren’t bound for familiar or friendly shores.”

      Her response was frosty. “You have made your point, sir.”

      This was hardly the ideal beginning to the day, which, she noted, had hardly dawned. She yawned, then stretched out the kinks in her back and neck. At that moment she caught a whiff of something malodorous. “What’s that I smell?”

      “Breakfast.”

      Approaching him, she looked over his shoulder and puzzled over the sight of a jumble of smoking rocks crisscrossed by sticks. “And what is for breakfast?”

      “Tree frogs.”

      She thought she detected a slightly gleeful note in his deep voice, like the kind a little boy might use when dangling a slimy worm before a little girl. Although her empty stomach recoiled when she perceived the outlines of the small, shriveled creatures skewered on sticks, she suppressed her revulsion in order to reply knowledgeably, “The French eat frogs. They are considered quite a delicacy.”

      He took a stick and held up a wizened carcass. “Want one?”

      She declined the French delicacy, citing customary lack of appetite first thing in the morning. She saw him take the frog off the stick and begin to eat it. Feeling nauseous, she looked away and announced her intention to go to the river. She added—with as much dignity as rumpled clothing and a ruined coiffure would allow—that she hoped she could be assured of her privacy.

      To her back he said, “It’s all we have until lunch.”

      She heard these words as a taunt and decided to defer the problem of finding suitable food in order to satisfy the most immediate of her bodily needs. She continued in the direction of the river. At the edge of the trees, a thought struck her. She paused and said, “You haven’t warned me about arrows in the heart and such, but I note that you’ve kept the fire low, which I suppose is to avoid giving the Sioux a sign that we’re here.”

      “I’ve kept the fire low so as not to burn the frogs to a crisp, and I’m thinking the Sioux have no further interest in this area. But now that you mention possible dangers, keep your eye out for the prairie wolf stalking our campsite.”

      Indians, rattlesnakes, prairie wolves. What next? “How kind of you to mention it,” she said with exaggerated civility, “for I had completely forgotten about the prairie wolves following your trail.”

      “Wolf,” he corrected. “Just one. You’ll recognize him by his cropped ear. I think I saw him a couple of hours ago, but I can’t be sure. Not to worry, though. I’d say he weighs less than a hundred pounds, and wolves have always feared humans, so I’m guessing this one will keep his distance.”

      “How reassuring,” she said, and resolutely left the shelter of the trees. As she made her way toward the river, she dared to wonder whether the man-beast had mentioned the wolf so that she wouldn’t run away from him and leave him to fend for himself. However, just in case he wasn’t the kind to stoop to scare tactics, she kept a nervous eye out for the wolf.

      She saw nothing to disturb her at the river and performed her morning ablutions to the extent that the primitive conditions would allow. She dearly wished for a comb and a brush and a mirror, but made do with her fingers. She spent the whole of the time dressing her hair mentally arguing with that vexatious man-beast, who always seemed to be putting her in the wrong. She donned her bonnet, then knelt down by the river, cupped her hands and dipped them in the water. When she tasted the freshness on her tongue and the chill against her teeth, she was arrested by memories of the thoughts she had entertained the day before when drinking from the river at this very same spot.

       She had judged the trip to be more like a pleasant outing? She had reckoned that difficulties might lie ahead?

      Hah! She hadn’t guessed the half of it!

      Then, an uneasy thought occurred to her. Was this the “Someday” that her mother had predicted for her? Had she, in some mysterious fashion, brought this present calamity upon herself?

      Sarah recalled her mother’s reaction upon being informed that her daughter had turned down William’s offer of marriage. Her mother began gently enough. “Sarah, love, you’ve had everything your own way for too long, I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to tell you anymore except that you will simply have to stop leading these poor men on.”

      “Now, Mother, I didn’t lead William on.”

      Her mother’s normally serene expression had set into lines of disapproval. “You toyed with Mr. James’s affections as if he were a parlor poodle, and if you haven’t determined your effect on men by now—especially after all the ruckus you raised in England—”

      “Gossip! Malicious gossip, all of it!”

      “Then you are a far more insensitive young woman than I had ever imagined! And I don’t want to hear another word about ‘malicious gossip.’ A woman who looks like you and behaves like you can expect tongues to wag on occasion, and given your reputation, I can only wonder how poor Mr. James allowed himself to fall prey to your toils!”

      Sarah had been unwise enough at this point to observe, somewhat flippantly, “William isn’t poor.”

      “Indeed not!” her mother had instantly agreed. “Everyone knows he comes from one of the richest families in Baltimore, and he’s a fine-looking man, I might add. As much as I love you, I’m beginning to think that my love has been blind and that the gossips have been right. Could it be, young СКАЧАТЬ