But when she followed him to his bath, she stared as he kept his clothes on and went in.
"You did not remove your clothes," she said coming to the edge of the creek.
He reached for cover, and there was little, so he sunk lower into the water.
He sank into the water, so she couldn't spy on him in his drawers. "Not decent to take all your clothes off."
"Maybe, but much cleaner that way," She smiled and walked off. "Besides, you saw, it is only fair that I see. Perhaps you hide something?"
Strange how intimate they had become in such little time. He had seen her, and she was not ashamed. He stared after her, then slowly a smile broke across his face.
Chapter Five
It was raining and cold the day they arrived at Sutton's Place. Ferg had described it well. It was no place to brag about, but Matt realized the mountain trappers that camped here probably appreciated the shelter. Winter in the mountains could kill a man fast and having shelter to depend upon meant surviving another year. In the olden day's trappers were left to build their own little shelters for the win
ter, many perished by the harsh winter snows and temperatures that dropped way below freezing. Although bears still roamed the country, they were a threat to every trapper, especially in cold winters, and the buffalo was nearly gone, so good hides to heat their bodies during winter were scarce.
It was snowing now, wagons were all about, but as the weather turned colder Ferg told Matt there would be many more to come as this winter showed signs of being bad.
"How do you know?" Matt asked curiously.
The man stared at him as though he couldn't believe he asked the question. Then a slow burning smile lit his lips. "Well son, there are many signs all around you. Lookie there at your horse there, tells of it, when his hair of winter is thick and begins to grow early. Ants, they make big piles of hills when there's a bad winter coming, certain plants and flowers signal it, and the muskrats dig deeper holes. All signs that a big winter is coming. Game is sparse and hard to come by. These are things a person looks at. Most mountain men know the signs well. Animals always know it and begin preparing for it."
Matt nodded, "It's as easy as that?"
"Yep, and when you know where to look, it is easy." He chuckled. "Now you know too."
Matt studied him a minute, "You must have a mountain load of experience in trapping."
"The big days are over, as the trappings are slimmer now and only true die-hard mountain men continue to trap. Now we trade mostly with the Indian tribes, not the big companies that hires their own." Ferg told him. "This place has been here for years. Used to, it was so crowded you had to come early if you wanted room to lay down, now only us older men come. Food from hunting will be scarce this winter. It's important to plan for such a thing. Been thinking we should build a smokehouse and store the meat for the hard winter coming."
"A smokehouse, here?"
"It is where we will stay most of the winter, and it would assure us of keeping the meat good."
"How long you been trading, Ferg?" Matt found Ferg such a well-rounded man. He knew a little about everything.
"All my life son, all my life. My Pa was a mountain man, my ma was a squaw. I'm a breed. Up here, that means very little, as the only ones we see are Indians and no accounts."
Matt studied on that a moment. "I imagine there are a lot of breeds in the high country."
"Yes, there are. Mountain men aren't around a lot of white women up here. White women can't usually adapt to our way of life easily. Indian women do. They are hardier and know the land better. And they don't mind keeping you warm in the winter."
"Makes sense." Matt nodded.
"You're gonna have to take her tonight. You know that, don't you?"
Matt frowned. "Yeah, I guess."
"Let them all know how it stands. If you don't, there will be trouble." Ferg told him. "I already seen three or four men eyeing her here. She's too young and too pretty, she won't last two nights here without someone trying. So, get to it son."
More trappers came in about noon and Snow Bird was already cooking up a storm. Everyone came around the fire to look at her and the food she prepared. Some of the men lingered, eyeing her more intently. Indian women were not always respected by the white men, thinking they were easy prey. Snow Bird was by far the best-looking woman in the place and several men eyed her as though considering her. Matt watched them carefully. Snow Bird did nothing to encourage it, but her beauty was so great that encouragement wasn't necessary. Ferg was right, he'd have to do something tonight, so they'd know.
"Smells good," One of the young men said, eyeing her with precision. The way he was staring at her told Matt he was very interested in her. Ferg was right.
"It will be ready soon." She told them.
"Good." He looked around the place. "So, who's your man?"