“Wait.” Emma grabbed his arm as he turned. “Do you think I’ll be all right here by myself? There were some men downstairs that I didn’t like the looks of.”
“Here.” He handed her the shotgun he had carried with him since they left the wagon. “If anyone tries to bother you, shoot him.”
“I don’t know if I could actually shoot someone.” Emma gasped as she reached for the gun.
“Well, darlin’, if it’s you or him, I expect you to put that training I gave you to good use. Lock the door when I leave, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He leaned over and kissed her again. “Enjoy your bath.”
The warm, but not quite hot, water arrived about an hour later. Emma stripped out of her dusty, sweaty clothes and relished stepping into the water. She groaned with pleasure as the water came up to her shoulders. With the scented soap she’d retrieved from the saddlebag she lathered her body, then dunked her head and shampooed out all the trail dirt.
Sometime later, feeling lighter, she stepped out of the cooled water and dried off. Putting clean clothes on a clean body after a warm bath was a pleasure she hadn’t had in a very long time. She yawned, headed to the bed, and climbed in.
She awoke to a loud knocking. A bit disoriented for a minute, the first thing she noted was the lack of swaying, and no clanging of pots and pans. Then she remembered they had reached Oregon City, and she was in a real bed with four walls around her. Hearing Davis calling her from outside the room, she left her warm cocoon and opened the door.
Davis had done more than take a bath. He had found someone to trim his hair, and give him a shave. He walked into the room and grabbed her waist and swung her around, barely missing the furniture in the small space.
“We are finally here, Emma. Can you believe it? I can’t. It seemed like forever.” He was obviously in a good mood, and Emma found herself smiling at him as he set her down, and kissed her on the forehead.
“Mrs. Cooper, I am very hungry. Let’s go get some supper. There were wonderful smells coming from the dining room when I came in just now.”
They enjoyed a meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, greens, and biscuits. A piece of dried apple pie completed their feast. Feeling comfortable with clean bodies and clothes, and bellies full of food that Emma was grateful she didn’t have to cook or clean up after, they left the hotel for a short stroll before retiring for the night.
They had just passed the bank when Emma heard someone call her. She and Davis both turned to see Nate hurrying after them, waving something in the air.
“Emma,” he said as he reached her, out of breath. “I have something here for you.”
Emma frowned. “What is it?”
“A letter. The post office had a letter for you.”
She glanced at Davis. “Who could possibly send me a letter here?”
“Your parents.” Nate placed the envelope in her outstretched hand.
Chapter Eighteen
Emma studied the letter in her hand, and looked up at Nate. “How did you know there was a letter here for me?”
“I didn’t. The postal clerk asked me if I came in with the latest wagon train. When I told him I did, he said he had a letter for one of the women on the train. Since it was for you, I told him I would see that you got it.” He shrugged as if it were of no importance..
Davis felt the itch to punch him square in the nose. Since Nate knew Emma had written to her parents in Fort Laramie, Davis was sure Nate purposely went to the post office to inquire about a letter for her. He would bet his horse there was no, ‘just happened to be there.’
He gritted his teeth. “The last time I heard, mail from the post office was a private matter, and would not be given to anyone other than the addressee.”
“Things are little less formal here. And since I’m an officer in the United States Army, I’m sure the postal clerk felt confident that the letter would go to the proper person.”
Davis nodded. “Much obliged, Hale. Now if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I are going to our hotel room to retire for the night.” Tugging on the front of his hat, Davis skirted around Nate, firmly holding Emma’s hand.
“I can’t believe my parents sent me a letter here.” She glanced worriedly in his direction.
“I’m sure you told them before you left where you were headed.”
She nodded. “Yes, we did. I remember Peter having a lengthy conversation with papa about the advantages of Oregon Territory. Plus, I wrote to them from Fort Laramie. But that seems so long ago.”
The desk clerk flipped through the pages of a newspaper when they entered the hotel. He glanced up, nodded, and returned to his reading. The dining room had closed, but a few people sat in the chairs in the lobby.
The front room of the hotel sported a worn carpet, a few kerosene lamps, and two shabby chairs. Days-old newspapers lay scattered on small tables. At one point someone had made an effort to put up curtains, but now they were worn and dusty.
Davis nodded at the few people they passed and escorted Emma up the stairs. The dirty bath water still stood in the corner, but someone had re-filled the pitcher on the rickety desk. Emma splashed her face, and yawning again, looked around. She picked up her nightgown and holding it in front of her, glanced at Davis.