Daniel straightened his tall frame, stretching his back. He had spent the day cutting timber to build the walls of the new fort. He was discovering that it was an altogether different thing to construct a fort with a group of strangers. The last time he'd done it, he was building a life for himself and his family with close friends at his side - now he was just pretending, and he found the labor more tedious because of it.
The men who worked alongside him, all seemed honest and deeply vested in the world they were constructing. They were generally friendly, open and focused on creating a secure home for their families. All of them except one: Matthew Merriweather was silent almost furtive. He offered short one-word responses to any questions that Daniel asked him. Daniel decided he'd keep his eye on him.
They returned late in the evening and so had missed the arrival of the newest group, as well as supper. Food had been saved for them, and Daniel hoped it was better than the breakfast they had been served before heading out. He had tried to give the breakfast a fair shake, but had found it nearly inedible.
He must have been too hungry from the day's labor to taste the food, or the cooking had vastly improved, because the only thought that filled his head as he bit into his supper was: delicious.
Peter Olsen came over to him. "Have you ever tasted anything that good?" He asked enthusiastically. "Not only are there some pretty woman in this group, but one of them cooks like you wouldn't believe. Everyone has been talking about it all day. You fellas really missed out though. Her biscuits made you want to cry! They were that good. They are all gone now, though. I may have to marry her."
"Pretty girl?" Daniel asked smiling.
"She's a widow, but she's not old. Her husband must've died of joy from her cooking, is the only thing I can figure. I don't know where she's at. Probably surrounded by every bachelor in camp. Just look for a cluster of hungry looking men. She's a pretty thing too. A redhead with bright blue eyes. Let me see if I can spot her." He walked away searching the camp for her.
"Wait," Daniel said slowly, following him. "Did you say she's a redhead?" He scanned the group, and seeing her, he dropped his plate.
"Are you crazy?" Mr. Jones said watching the food fall to the ground.
He walked straight up to her, feeling his temper rise with every single step. Peter was standing beside her.
"Ah, Widow Bryan, this is Daniel Brown." She turned and smiled at him.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" He said angry.
"Oh, Mr. Brown. How good to see you." She said.
"You two know each other?" Peter asked surprised. "What are the odds?"
"Mr. Brown, was a friend of my husband." She said her eyes downcast.
"Poor man. He suffered terribly." Daniel said.
"I thought you said he died suddenly in his sleep." Peter said turning to Rebecca.
"Oh, he suffered for years before that." Daniel said reaching out and grabbing Rebecca by the arm. "Pardon us, we've got so much to catch up on."
"I'll see you at breakfast then, Widow Bryan!" Peter said hopefully.
"Yes, until then!" She called over her shoulder as Daniel led her away from her crowd of admirers.
"Rebecca! What do you think you are doing?" He demanded.
"Mr. Brown," She began with a smile.
"Oh, don't you, Mr. Brown, me! Where are Mima and Israel?"
"Mima's staying with Elizabeth so she's happy as can be, and Israel is with Mingo. He couldn't wait for me to leave! They are perfectly fine." She crossed her arms and watched him.
"What are you doing here?" He asked again.
"Well, you and I both know if you really want to find out anything, you need to talk to the women. The gossips know everything that is going on - and they'd never talk to you, so I decided . . ."
"You decided?" He interrupted her.
"I'm a grown woman, Daniel. I can make decisions." She glared at him. "I decided to come along. I figured it might speed things up." She smiled at him. He did not smile back.
"I don't even know what to say." He said walking away from her. He paced a few feet from her. She caught little snips of him muttering to himself: "Difficult, stubborn, willful, and impossible" were the only words she could understand.
She stood waiting, her hand on her hip. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" She asked. "It will be dark soon, and it wouldn't be appropriate for me to standing here in the dark alone with you."
"Appropriate! Rebecca Bryan Bo . . ." He exploded, but she shushed him before he finished.
Taking her by the arm again, he whispered fiercely. "You go over there and tell that Mr. Gladstone that you've changed your mind, and could you please borrow a horse because you are heading back home."
"I will not." She said stubbornly.
"Becky . . ." He warned.
"You want me to go back and sit in the cabin and wait? You told me yourself that it was fairly safe here, didn't you? Why, you said I was being silly for worrying! Are you saying that's not true? Are you saying it is dangerous?"
"I never said you were silly . . ." He began.
"And besides, back at home I am all alone with the Shawnee and Cherokee not more than ten miles from us. At least here you can watch over me." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "You think just because I'm a woman, I don't ever want to see what's outside my front door? I'm tired of sitting at home lonesome, wondering and worrying whether or not you're safe. And this time around I can actually be of use to you and you know it." Her cheeks were pink with fury and her blue eyes glittered.
He sighed, and rubbed his head. He suddenly had a horrible headache.
"What's the matter?" She asked softening, concern on her face. "You have a headache? I'll get a cold compress for it." She reached out to touch his forehead but he pushed her hand away.
He looked at her and thought briefly about picking her up, slinging her over his shoulder and carrying her home. Trouble was Rebecca was strong and she could kick pretty hard. She did have a point too; she could help him by spying on the women-folk.
"Yes, I've got a headache!" He said to her ferociously. "It stands just over five feet tall and answers to 'Rebecca'!" They stared at one another.
"Dan, you know I'm right." She smiled up at him batting her eyes.
He sighed. "You better go." He said defeated. "The sun's going down. I won't have your reputation ruined."
She winked at him. "Later, you'll remember why you love me." She whispered.
"You better hope so." He said. "You stay away from that Peter Olsen. He's too forward." He said as she walked away laughing.