Page 12 of Father Goose

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She finally added, “I didn’t realize how I’d look once the silk got wet.”

He held a tree branch out of her way. The night was dark, making all the world only shadows. “May I just say that you are beautiful with or without your clothes?”

“No. Forget what you saw.”

“Not a chance.”

Chapter 6

By the time Trapper and Emery got to the Millers’ campfire, the half-frozen kids had thawed out and were laughing and talking as if they’d known one another for years.

There was enough supper for everyone and the biscuits were all gone by the time the basket made the second circle around the fire.

Trapper sat next to Emery on a bench. The night was still stormy, with the roll of thunder far away and an occasional flash of lightning brightening the sky.

For some reason tonight he wanted to protect her. Not just because he’d seen her body, but because the lady only had one dress. She’d taken off her black dress so she could help him. She must have been freezing out there.

What woman doesn’t pack a change of clothes?

A very poor one, he decided, or one running with no time to pack. If that was the case, what was she running from?

She was a beautiful mystery. He’d never forget how she looked standing in the rain. She was a rare work of art now hidden away in mourning black.

He braced his arm behind her so she could lean back. Now and then their legs brushed. Nothing anyone would notice, but something both were very much aware of doing. For the first time, he’d found a woman who was as alone as he was.

During the war there was no time to court and when it was over no woman would have looked at him twice.

While trying to keep up with the conversation, Trapper attempted to understand what had happened between them in the storm. First, he’d seen her naked, or almost. He told himself that she shouldn’t be too upset. She was the one who took off her clothes.

When he was honest and told her she was beautiful, she got mad. Then she told him she’d never seen a naked man. How was that possible? She was a widow. Surely she’d noticed her husband walking by now and then.

Maybe he was shy and they only did it in the dark. But then the husband would have missed seeing her body so nicely rounded in all the right places.

To top off Trapper’s confusion, she seemed to think this whole thing was his fault. All he’d done was stand in the rain and look.

She’d told him to forget about what he saw, but that would take a shotgun blast to the head.

He decided he’d try forgetting one part of her at a time. Those round breasts, just right for his hands to hold. Her hips, so nicely curved. Her waist so tiny. He’d lifted her and never guessed how small it was. And, her legs with the thin material hiding nothing.

This wasn’t working, he decided. Maybe he should start with her toes. They were muddy. They’d be easy to forget. In fact, he didn’t even remember them now. Maybe this was working.

No. He hadn’t even looked down to her toes. There were too many other body parts.

Trapper tried to act normal, but that was impossible. Every time he looked in her direction, he pictured her nude. He thought of how the silk had bunched up between her breasts and how it indented at her belly button.

Maybe if she’d take off her clothes again, he’d think about her with clothes on, but he doubted she’d go along with the idea.

As it got darker, Number Five crawled up in his lap. She patted his chest and said, “Night, Tapper,” then went to sleep.

Trapper saw Number One and the oldest Miller boy walk over near the trees and stand so close to each other they were almost touching. He told himself he’d go stand between them if they got any closer.

How was it he felt so old one minute and so young the next? When he’d been the Miller boy’s age, he’d been riding through enemy territory with a midnight sky as his only companion. He hadn’t even tried to keep up with what day it was. He figured he had too few days left to worry about it.

As they walked back to their wagon, Trapper wished he could have some time alone with Emery, but that wasn’t happening. She climbed up in the wagon and helped the girls settle down to sleep. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Trapper found enough dry wood to build a fire. With the low-hanging fog, no one would notice the smoke so he felt safe tonight, but he couldn’t sleep. The vision of Emery standing in the rain was now carved on the back wall of his brain.

At dawn he was grumpy, but the girls didn’t notice. The sun was out and the storm seemed forgotten. Emery wanted to spend the morning washing clothes in the creek and cooking up a few meals. “The girls need a bath,” she said. “We can’t go into town looking this way.”


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