Uncivilized Page 5

  Sam rode up and shouted, “Don’t you dare get in there!” He threw a coil of rope to Del and wrapped the other end around the horn of his saddle. “Here, tie up so I can drag you both out.”

  Ellen sunk below the surface, afraid to kick and dislodge them from help. She stayed at the surface just enough to watch as he double knotted the rope around his waist. With some slack pulled, Del dove into the water. She held the boys above her. The water in her ears muddled his shout to her. An ebb of the river’s current allowed her to surface and gasp for air. She saw him struggling as he swam toward them.

  Sam held onto the rope, the end tied around the pommel of his saddle. He slid off his horse. Not letting go of his friend’s lifeline, he went closer to the water.

  Del reached them and grabbed Buster by his little outstretched hand. Ellen felt the tug and kicked hard to surface. Seeing him there, she let go of the baby while breathing in deep and as fast as possible in case the current pulled her under again. Both hands free now, she lifted up her younger brother. After swinging the toddler onshore and into Sam’s arms, Del came back for them. She struggled to pry Skeeter from her. The boy whimpered, scared and clinging to her.

  Del stretched a hand out, nearly touching Ellen. “Skeeter, come here! Buster needs you!”

  The boy’s grip around her throat eased, allowing her to take a deep breath as they bobbed. He climbed up to Del’s reach. Skeeter grabbed onto the man’s hand, planted his foot in the middle of Ellen’s chest, and pushed her away in his efforts to get to shore. She relaxed; relieved the men had both boys. Her skirt tore from the branch as she fought to tread water and she went under. Surfacing several yards downstream, she grabbed at anything growing near the water. She swam hard, working her way closer to the bank. Each time she grew tired and eased her struggles, the currents drew her to the center. “Adelard!” she screamed before being pulled below again.

  Chapter 2

  Del ran along the shore, ignoring the sharp grasses cutting his arms. He stopped staring only long enough to jump over the small gullies lining the bank. Looking back at the water, he couldn’t find her anywhere. She was gone. He halted to take in a deep breath and yell her name. She resurfaced for a moment but bobbed under again. She’d hit a snag. He hurried to the riverbank, knowing if he didn’t get her now while he had the chance Ellen would tire and drown. He eased down the slippery ledge.

  He searched for her but only saw water. The metallic taste of fear hit the back of his throat and his mouth watered. She bobbed above again, coughing. He knew from the raspy sound that she’d breathed in liquid. She’d been snagged again. Keeping his eyes steady, Del slid into the river and swam with every ounce of strength he had. The current too much, he struggled to avoid being swept downstream from her. The rope tugged at his waist, and he looked up to see Sam pulling him upstream. Now Del could focus on just getting to Ellen.

  Just before she went under again, he reached her and grabbed her arms. He held her close, her head at his shoulder and above the water. “J’ai tu, ma petite, I have you.” She coughed on his chest and he laughed, relieved she still breathed. “Bien!” He didn’t have to swim, but merely held her as Sam pulled them toward the shore. Del scrambled to his feet as they left the water, still holding her. He patted her back when she couldn’t stop coughing long enough to say anything.

  “You’re good?” Sam said as he recoiled his rope.

  “Oui. Merci, mon ami.”

  “I’ll check the others.” Sam rode away to the other Warrens.

  Ellen leaned against him and shivered, the shock and cold catching up with her. “Thank you so much.” She pulled away from him. “My brothers?”

  His skin began cooling at the lack of her warmth. Del fought the urge to grab and hold her close again. “Safe.”

  “They’re alive, thanks to you.” She coughed again and looked over at the ferry crossing. “I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

  He cupped her face in his hand. “No, no debt. It was my duty to save them, my honor to save you.” Del searched Ellen’s eyes. Could it be affection he saw there? He lifted a hand to caress her cheek then reconsidered such a public display. She covered her mouth for a slight cough and he pulled back. “I am selfish, taking your air.” She shivered and he added, “But how can I not hold you when you’re so cold?”

  “I think the bigger question is how are you not chilled?” she asked while untying the bow on the back of her dress. Her glasses fell from the dress’s bodice to the ground and she picked them up, shaking off the water and dirt.

  Watching her try to clean her glasses on her damp skirt, Del replied, “I’m from further north.” She glanced up, her eyes focused on him without the glasses between them. He forgot to breathe for a moment. He stared into Ellen’s face, his heart feeling too big for his chest. She shivered, breaking the spell and he gave her a wicked grin. “Cold is no bother to me. At home, I must chip through a foot of ice to the river underneath.”

  Her teeth chattered until she clenched her jaw. Ellen frowned and put her glasses back on. “You bathe in ice water?” She chuckled after glancing at him and said, “Oh no, not really?”

  “Yes, I bathe in the dead of winter, but I heat water for a tub.”

  She laughed, coughing afterward. “I’d prefer warm water any day.”

  “So would I.” He indicated the camp with a nod. “Let’s go. You need care and must be curious about your brothers.”

  “I’m more concerned about the wagon and my father. I know Lucy and my brothers are well thanks to your bravery. I’m not so sure about Pa, the oxen, and our wagon.”

  “They must have reached shore. Otherwise, they’d have floated past us by now.” He took her hand as they walked. “You have not reinjured yourself?” They paused and he turned her palm up, making small circles on her wrist with his index finger. “It hurts here, no?”

  “It does, a little.” Ellen squeaked when he brought her palm up and kissed her open hand.

  She shivered under his lips and his interest turned to need. Looking up at her, he straightened and said, “I can kiss until you feel better.”

  “I’m better now, thank you.” She tugged away from his hold. “You wouldn’t want to continue this farce and thus start a fight neither of us want.”

  “Farce? Non, but correct. I’d prefer to avoid war for now.” He turned toward the others, but paused. Thinking of her wet heavy skirts, he took her elbow in case she stumbled. “You have intelligence as well as beauty. No man’s heart is safe. Shall we?” At her nod, they walked to the ferry and as they drew closer, his urge to escape with Ellen grew. He shook his head as he watched her father stomping around the Winslow’s belongings on the opposite shore.

  “Oh! It seems everyone is waiting for us.” She lagged in her pace as the two of them approached her family. Several other people huddled together with the Winslows still a dozen yards ahead.

  Del paused when she did. “Ma coeur? What is it?”

  “I’m not sure I want to return—” Squeals of delight from Marie and Jenny kept her from continuing.

  Jenny hugged Ellen while jumping up and down. “You’re safe! We were so scared! You disappeared, then Mr. Du Boise, then Mr. Granville. After seeing the wagon, we just knew the worst had happened.”

  Marie went to Del. “I’ll hug you for saving our friend’s life after you’re dry.”

  He laughed, not blaming her one bit. “I’ll take you up on that, ma coupin.” He leaned over to Ellen. “We should both find other clothes soon.”

  Marie spoke before her friend could respond. “Everything in your wagon is probably drenched. You can help me search our things for something dry. Your hems will be a little high due to our height difference.”

  “I’ll be happy with whatever you find. Anything is better than this cold feeling for the rest of the day.”

  “Good.” Marie turned to the youngest girl. “Jenny, your mother and Mrs. Winslow are similar. She and the boys might be able to borrow some clothes
from your family too.”

  Jenny nodded. “I’ll take them to Ma and see what she can find them.” The girl hurried off to escort the rest of the family to the Allen’s wagon.

  Marie took Ellen’s hand. “Mercy! You’re near frozen. Let’s go get started.”

  At his limit for listening to women talk about clothes, Del tapped Marie on the shoulder. “Madame, please excuse me while I’m finding other clothes. I prefer trousers to dresses.”

  With her nod, Del walked to his horse and the dry set of clothes in his saddlebags. Ellen’s voice caught his attention and while he didn’t stop, he did slow his pace a little. He heard her say, “… is a very good man for an Indian.”

  He continued to the Granville wagon, and once certain no one saw him, leaned against it. His horse, Pomme, ambled over to nudge at him. “Allo.” Del petted the animal’s neck. Now alone, he could rest for a moment and just be glad Ellen was safe. He closed his eyes to shut out the rest of the world. When had she become so important to him that he still tasted the fear over losing her to drowning? And when she’d stared into his eyes? He’d forever carry the memory in his heart.

  “Napping already?”

  Sam’s smart remark amused Del and he opened his eyes. “Oui, or trying to do so.”

  “The Winslows owe you a debt they might not ever acknowledge.”

  He shrugged. “There is no need. I did what I must.”

  “They might not but I can.” Sam put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Thank you, Adelard.”

  He grinned at how his friend wiped a wet palm on his pants. “You’re welcome.”

  “Let me get you something dry to wear.”

  Del motioned toward his horse. “I have clothes in my saddlebags.”

  “Save them for later. I brought extra and can part with a pair of pants and a shirt. No arguing and you can change in the wagon. Be quick because we’re next across.”

  Del climbed in and took Sam’s advice. His wet buckskins made changing difficult. Peeling them off took far longer than he’d planned and the wagon began rolling.

  “Sorry,” Sam hollered back at him. “We’re the last ones across. I stalled as long as I could. You and Pomme can ride with us.”

  “Merci.” He removed the tie keeping his braid together and unraveled his hair to dry. He shrugged into a shirt and began buttoning it as they rolled to a stop. Hearing his friend talk to the ferryman, Del folded his wet clothes, making a mental note to get them later. He left the wagon and went to his horse, leading Pomme as they boarded the ferry with the wagon. Little waves splashed against the sides. Del squatted at the conveyance’s edge to search for the riverbed, but summer thaw churned up too much silt. The water gave off a slight, fresh smell. It told him that the emigrants had fished out this part of the river. He straightened as they neared the bank. Animals, fish, wild fruit, and berries had all decreased in the past couple of years due to the influx of settlers. They all seemed to understand how to take far better than how to give.

  Mr. Winslow’s voice carried to him on the eastward wind. Del went to the front of the Granville wagon to see why the man fussed. Winslow stood on the bank, his arms around Mrs. Winslow and the boys. The ferryman tied them up and once secure, Del stepped down and onto the dock. He led Pomme out of the way as Sam and a couple of his men disembarked. He stopped and watched the little family. They seemed oddly placed until he realized how they all stood facing the disembarking people as if giving a stage play. He scanned the crowd for Ellen, wondering what her part was in all this.

  Jack cried out to a gathering crowd as the wagons rolled past him. “The ferryman has taught me a valuable lesson: The man with the biggest pile of money gets to have his family. Otherwise,” he broke off as if overcome with emotion. “Otherwise, he watches them die in a watery grave.” Women around them dabbed at tears while the men shuffled and sniffed.

  Winslow looked around him as if to see how much of an audience he had. He hugged his family closer. “Does he or the company handing out his pay care about us, the common people? Do they care about helping us reach a better land and life? Or do they only care about bleeding us dry to better fill their pockets?” When a frugal man in the group yelled his support, Winslow turned toward the shout. He nodded in approval much like a king would to a loyal subject.

  Even at a distance, he could tell how something had caught Winslow’s eye. Del followed the man’s gaze to find Ellen. She’d changed into something of Marie’s he supposed; her dress only reached her ankles.

  “Daughter! You’re alive!” he shouted. Her face reddened and she shook her head without breaking the stare she and her father shared. “Come to us, your family!” Winslow insisted, waving her over to them. She obeyed, and upon reaching them, her father looked her up and down. Still loud for the crowd to hear he asked, “Where have you been?” He held up a hand before pulling her into an oversized hug. “It doesn’t matter; you’re here now. It’s a miracle!”

  Del’s eyes narrowed as Jack searched the crowd as if to make sure everyone saw his demonstration. Hate for the man increased in the pit of his stomach. Winslow’s obstinacy had nearly cost him his family, and now the man used the occasion for showboating. And for what? Money, attention, perhaps sympathy? He didn’t know her father well enough to more than guess at a motive. Leading Pomme past the family then, he lowered his gaze to the ground to shield his eyes a bit. He heard Ellen’s voice and glanced up to keep her in sight. Even then, Del stalled and used checking the straps on his English saddle as an excuse to eavesdrop.

  “Oh, Ellen!” Lucy hurried to her. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Still in her wet dress, she clung to her stepdaughter. Del winced before he caught himself. So much for the young woman finding dry clothes. The gray dress darkened wherever her stepmother hugged her. Mrs. Winslow picked up the wailing where her husband had left off. “It was all so horrible. Thank goodness you’re here to help me dry our things and watch the boys. I’m so tired.”

  Jack stumbled over to her as if too weak to properly walk. “My dearest daughter, come give me another hug before you help your Ma. We were afraid you were gone forever.”

  “I was helping Mrs. Warren with her things, Pa.” She hugged her father before stepping back. “I’m so glad we’re all on this side and safe now. Are you hungry? It’s past noon, so you must be. Let me fix you something, maybe tea and jelly biscuits?”

  “Yes,” he sighed. “Yes, I am hungry.” After seeing the people go about their own business and not paying him any more attention, he walked with her to their wagon. “Let me get our rig out of the way and you can start all that.”

  “I’ll be glad to,” Ellen said as he walked away from her.

  Lucy followed him a few steps but then staggered a little as if unable to continue. “You go ahead with him, dear. I’ll be there as I can.” She groaned before saying, “You’re so much stronger than me.”

  “Very well. I’ll begin unpacking everything.”

  “Thank you.” She slumped a little then shifted Buster to one hip. “Thank you so much.” Lucy put the back of her free hand to her forehead. “The day grows late. I shall be glad to see sleep tonight.”

  Del choked down a chuckle at the woman’s melodrama. She and her husband were well matched. They both had a flair for the theatrical. Ellen turned toward him and their gaze met. Caught mid snicker, he schooled his features into something less mocking toward her family’s act. She blushed, her face a lovely pink. Remorse kicked him and he stepped toward her. “Mademoiselle?”

  Skeeter poked his head from behind Ellen’s skirt. “Hey! Mr. Do Bose! You look dandy!”

  He grinned at the young man. “Thank you, Mr. Winslow. You look fine too.” He nodded at Ellen, checking to see Mrs. Winslow walking away from them, probably searching for her husband. Del hadn’t wanted to cause problems for Ellen. “Miss—”

  Sam rode over to them. “Everyone is across now. Go with your family, Miss Ellen, and we’ll begin moving again.” He slid down and held
out a hand to Skeeter. “Come on, son. Let’s follow your mother.”

  “All right, Mr. Sam.” He waved to Del. “Mr. Do Bose, thank you for saving my family. You are good people and clean up real nice.”

  “Thank you and you’re welcome.” He watched as they left in the same direction as the Winslows. Del turned to find Ellen smiling at him.

  “I should go with them.” She crossed her arms, adding, “White is really your color.”

  He chuckled, liking the compliment. “Is it? You are white. Are you my color too?” Del took a step toward her family as if to walk her back to them. His tricked work when she joined him, keeping up to his pace.

  “Oh, I’m not sure about that.”

  Del glanced over at her, enjoying how rosy her cheeks glowed. “Your dress matches the storms in your eyes.” He took a sideways step closer to her. “The shade has become my favorite color since meeting you.”

  “They’re just slate gray.” Ellen shook her head before looking back at a trailing Pomme. “Nothing special, like blue or green, or yours even.”

  “Mine?” Had she meant to flatter him? Her intention didn’t matter. He’d use the chance to get a compliment from her. “They’re nothing special as well, the color of dirt or of the plainest pony in the herd.”

  She wrung more water from the end of her braid. “Yours are the warmest brown imaginable. I rather like looking into them and seeing the gold flashes.”

  He peeked over at her. Her hair, the strands loosened from their ordeal, dried in chestnut hued tendrils around her face. He’d seen a lot of women in his travels, but none tugged at his heart like her. “So I have the lightning in mine to the storm clouds in yours? The thought appeals to me.”

  “Me too.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I also like your hair loose like that. Though I suppose if you let it flow naturally, I’m sure it’d be tangled in no time.”

  Grinning, he agreed. “One gust of wind and yes. Tangles.”