Chapter 8 Colorado

15 0 0
                                    


Essie cleaned up after supper with an efficiency that was more then thorough. She never once stopped to ask me or the boys for help with a darn thing. When she was done, she wiped her wet hands off on her skirt then placed them on her hips looking so satisfied with herself. I took in the sight of her, light colored skirt and blouse already starting to look stained and warn from travel, giving me a upset feeling in my stomach. I knew when I first saw her in it that it must have been new and she liked it very much, the way she held herself and the look she had on her face, had said that clearly enough. Her face always seemed to give away how she felt with all its expressions. I highly doubted she got new things very often in her life and most average folks didn't. We went through our lives wearing everything until it had not a single bit of life left, our toes poking out of our shoes and shirts pulling at the seems or with patchwork mending that showed it was growing with us. With the struggles of the settler lifestyle and everything people lived through, no matter what they were, clothing would always quiet in comparison. What was clothes to starvation and illness? When you could spend money on medicine and food? Still, we had the funds and I wanted to show her I could provide for her the way I should. 

"Looks like you're gonna be needin' new clothes soon."

Her head tilted down as she took in her dress with delicate hands brushing down the front while some loose curls fell down to frame her face. Her demeanor as though she was trying to be careful with it, "Oh no, it will last. I am fond of it." 

Walking up to her I used both of my hands on each side of her heart shaped face to push her curls back, "You will need more than just this dress darlin'."

"I am sure it will be fine."

"But I want to get you a new one?" Her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline before coming together, going from open mouthed to almost looking bothered and I was not sure what I was saying wrong. 

"Why it seems to be holding up alright?"

"What?"

"Why would I let you buy one when this one seems to be holdin' up?"

"Well that is simple, we're gettin' married."

Her entire demeanor softened as she gave a soft O sound. She took a step closer to me with her hands coming to rest upon my chest, near to my collar so she could follow the edge with her nimble fingers. She didn't make eye contact with me but her face read understanding.

"I know you probably are going to have to get used to this, you were used to depending on your Pa," I said as I motioned my hand from her to me, "But let me take care of you, as a husband should."

She gave a nod and rested her forehead lightly on my shoulder and I couldn't hold out against wrapping my arms around her. "We can get one at the next town if you would like? I believe it should be Nez Perce. Should not be too far off. We will reach it tomorrow if we are lucky."

When she didn't say anything or lift her head from my shoulder, I muttered her name and yet she still stayed in the same spot. I could tell she was exhausted but I also knew she stubbornly wouldn't admit it to me and probably more then confused about the changes that are happening in her life. She depended so long on her father, then he was taken from her and she had no one except Richard. Now she with us being together so quickly it didn't really give her any time to adjust. I moved back just enough to scoop her into my arms. Her little intake of breath made me smile as I carried her the few short steps to our own bedrolls to spend the rest of the night. By the time I laid her down, she was already in a peaceful slumber. With her hair sprawled around to frame her face and her lips parted from her soft breathing, it looked almost like she was angelic if it weren't for the dusting of dirt on her skin. Part of me felt I could have stayed up the rest of the night watching her rest. It was so serene but a quiet cough from Tucker ripped my eyesight from Essie to both of the boys who were smiling like idiots.

Sounds of the PrairieWhere stories live. Discover now