only a few moments, but it felt like forever. She could smell the scent of tobacco on his coat, and the wood smoke from their morning fire, as well as the cold. She’d never noticed that cold had its own particular scent until now, and inhaled it deeply, intent on remembering this moment for as long as she lived. It was ironic that the most horrifying moment of her life might also be the moment she knew that she’d fallen in love.
Seconds later, Eulis turned loose of her, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.
“Well, then,” he said shortly. “Maybe it’ll be all right. I didn’t hold her long and it’s really cold.”
“Yeah,” Letty said. “That’s right. It wasn’t for long. But we’d better get back to camp. I’m going hunting for that buck while you start chopping down some trees. It won’t take long to fix us up some kind of lean-to. We’ll make it just fine. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, that’s right. We can do anything if we stick together, can’t we?”
Letty’s chin trembled, but she wouldn’t let go of her terror.
“Let’s get moving,” she said.
He clucked to the team and the wagon wheels began to roll. Less than five minutes later, they came upon some Arapaho walking toward the city. Letty recognized the woman she’d helped in the woods. The woman who called herself Little Bird.
“Eulis, wait!” she said, and jumped out of the wagon before he could stop her.
She ran toward the group and then stopped a few feet away.
“Go back!” she cried, and motioned for them to retrace their steps.
They stopped, startled by her aggressive behavior, while one of the warriors with the women reached for his knife.
“No, no… I’m not trying to harm you,” Letty said, and then slapped her legs in frustration.
Eulis started to get down and come to her aid, but she held up her hand.
“No! Don’t!” she said. “If you’re contagious…”
He looked as if she’d slapped him across the face and then sat back down.
Letty turned back to the Arapaho, fixing her attention solely on Little Bird.
“You speak English… yes?”
Little Bird glanced at the warrior who was holding the knife, then nodded at Letty.
“There is sickness in the city. White man’s sickness.”
Little Bird gasped, and then spoke to the others in her native tongue.
“Smallpox,” Letty said. “Tell them it is smallpox. Tell them to pack up your tents and leave now. Don’t talk or touch anyone who’s been down in the town.”
Little Bird’s eyes widened with horror as she translated what Letty just said.
Immediately, the group turned around and began running back through the trees. It wasn’t the first time that the white man’s sickness had come into their world. Back then they’d buried hundreds of their own, and the knowledge that it had returned struck fear in their hearts.
But Little Bird stayed. She saw the empty wagon, the cold on their faces, and the fear in their eyes, and knew they faced worse problems than a sickness.
“You have no home,” Little Bird said.
Letty’s shoulders sagged.
“That’s the understatement of the week,” Letty muttered.
Little Bird frowned. “I not know your words.”
Letty sighed. “You are right. We have no home.”
“I know place,” Little Bird said. “You pack up. I come to you.”
Within seconds she was gone, leaving Letty standing in the ever-deepening snow.
“Letty!”
She turned and ran for the wagon.
“Head for camp,” she said. “We’ve got to pack.”
“Pack? And go where? It’s too late to get out of the mountains, and without supplies, we’d never make it back to Fort Dodge.”
“Little Bird says she knows where we can winter.”
“Little Bird? How do you know her name?”
“It’s a long story,” Letty said. “Just hurry. We don’t have much time.”
Within the hour they were at their camp and loading up their meager belongings. Eulis was folding up the tent when Rosy lifted her head and brayed.
He turned around just as an Arapaho man and woman rode into camp.
“Letty!”
She looked up then waved.
“You come now,” Little Bird said.
They tossed the last of their things into the back of the wagon, and then crawled up into the seat. Within the hour, the snow had covered up every trace of their presence. It was as if they’d never been there.
Less than an hour later, the snow stopped falling, but not before every trace of a road had been covered with a good six inches of powder. By late afternoon, the mules were exhausted and had faltered twice, as if too weary to go on. The third time it happened, Eulis got down