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Such stimulating conversation can only be learned in the ballrooms of New York City. He turned and headed to the back of the house.

Angel held the little girl at arm’s length. “So, the kitchen sink.”

Julia-Rose gurgled, waving her food-encrusted hands in the air.

No help here.

Nate returned with a tub, dragged it into the kitchen and filled it with hot water he’d heated on the stove. He herded the boys down the stairs, and one by one they entered the tub, scrubbed themselves and stepped out, drying their bodies with the cloth he handed them. He supervised the whole process with a system he’d obviously perfected over time.

Trying not to watch him too closely, lest he realize this was all new to her, Angel filled the kitchen sink with warm water, holding Julia-Rose with one arm. The soggy diaper landed with a plop on her bare foot when she unpinned it. She eased the baby into the water where she slapped it with her hands, laughing hysterically. Water dripped from Angel’s hair, past her nose, onto the bodice of her dress. She reached for the soap, letting the baby go for a minute. Julia-Rose immediately slid beneath the water. Angel frantically pulled the little girl up, who coughed and screamed loud enough to wake the dead. She patted her on the back and snuck a glance at Nate.

“Everything all right over there?” He shouted over his shoulder as he handed a cloth to John.

Yes, just dandy. Thank God your back was turned. I almost drowned your daughter, and she probably hates me.

“No problem. Julia-Rose got a little bit of water in her mouth.”

“We’re almost done here. You about finished?”

“Um, in a few minutes.” She wrestled Julia-Rose through the rest of her bath, managing to keep the child’s head above water by holding her loosely by her gathered up, wet hair. Once rinsed off, she picked up the wet, wiggling little body and looked around for a towel. Not seeing one, she pulled up the bottom of her dress and wrapped the baby in it. She hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Angel laid the baby on the bed. She crawled away. Angel dragged her back by her feet. Julia-Rose flipped onto her back, giggling. She reached for a clean diaper, but no matter which way she tried to put it on the baby’s bottom, it fell off.

Sweat beaded her forehead. This can’t be that difficult. You were top in your class at school.

Eventually, the diaper stayed put, even though she doubted it was on correctly. Angel placed the sweet-smelling little girl in the crib across from Nate’s bed. Then sang four songs before the baby’s little chest rose and fell in sleep.

Julia-Rose had slipped her fingers into her rosebud mouth, sucking gently. Angel leaned over and smoothed the blonde ringlets from her face. Her finger slid down her soft cheek. Something in her heart twisted as she gazed on the sleeping child. She kissed two fingers and laid them on Julia-Rose’s forehead.

As she eased the door closed, she met Nate in the shadowed hallway.

“Boys are all asleep,” he said. “I’ll go to the bathhouse in town tonight so you can have privacy for your bath. I’ll move the tub into the parlor near the fireplace where it will be warmer.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” She gave him a small smile.

“I put the water on to heat. It shouldn’t take too long.” He left her in the hall as he grabbed his shaving equipment and clean clothes from the bedroom, and whistling cheerfully, left the house.

A half hour later, she sat at the table, drumming nervous fingers, waiting for the water to heat. Oh Lord, I know what he’ll expect when he returns.

By the smile on his face, and the heat in his eyes, there wouldn’t be any time to allow her to adjust to her new role before her wifely duties began. She shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. He seemed too kind to force himself on her, but they would be occupying the same bed. And from conversations overheard at boarding school, she knew what that meant.

Nate eased into the large iron bathtub, and sighed as welcoming hot water washed over him. He fingered a small glass of brandy by his side, and clamped a cheroot between his teeth. Things may have been difficult last night, with Angel so worn out, but tonight he would have his wedding night. His bride was, at this moment, immersed in hot water up to her interesting parts, probably soaking in something sweet smelling.

She looked a little out of place in that frilly yellow dress she’d worn today. And it was a sopping mess when she got through giving the baby her bath. It looked almost as if she had joined the little girl in the sink. Hopefully, she wasn’t as clumsy at everything else.

He blew smoke rings in the air while he imagined her getting out of the tub, all pink and flushed, how she would look when he made love to her. The thought of her soft, smooth skin brought his manhood to full attention. She was certainly a sweet little thing. Soon he would run his fingers through her long, silky hair, and kiss his way down her body. He would start with the eyelids covering those beautiful blue eyes. Did the blue darken with passion? He couldn’t wait to find out.

Being young, and untouched, it would be important for him to take it slow. The poor girl looked a little frightened when he’d left. He probably should give her time to adjust before he exercised his marital rights, but that would only increase her tension, with her watching his every move, waiting for him to jump her.

He took a final sip of his brandy, doused the cheroot and started washing. Eager to finish his bath, he had better things to do.

Never having prepared her own bath before, Angel soon appreciated what maids had done for her all of her life. She groaned as she lifted the heavy bucket from the stove, and struggled into the parlor to pour the hot water into the bathtub. Although she appreciated Nate placing the bathtub in front of the parlor fire, it required her to walk back and forth from the kitchen, lugging water. Amy must’ve been strong as a horse. She snorted. That was probably what killed her.

The soft glow from the oil lamp on the small table near the tub highlighted the trail of water from the kitchen stove to the bathtub. Her arm already ached from lugging the water, so she would mop it up later. Of course, that meant she would have to find the mop first. She glanced at the clock and grimaced. Nate would be home soon, and she hadn’t even started her bath.

After two more painful trips, the tub was finally filled. Stripping off her soggy dress and dirty undergarments, she submerged herself in the warm water and smiled. She laid her head back against the tub, enjoying the warmth enveloping her sore muscles. Lazily, she swirled her fingers through the water and then sat up abruptly. No soap or towels.

Sweet smelling soap and warm fluffy towels had always been there for her, placed by an unknown employee. Cautiously she stood and stepped out of the tub. Her wet feet left a puddle on the floor. She dripped her way across the room, and up the stairs to the bedroom, hoping one of the boys didn’t wander out to catch their new mama wet and naked, running around the house.


Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical