14 Husband and Wife

“I WILL NOT wear breeches,” Miranda croaked. I could still feel the wolf’s teeth at my throat and realized Miranda’s voice had truly been damaged by Harriet when she attempted to strangle us. It had been beautiful and lyrical but now was harsh and raspy.

“I am just telling you that it ain’t safe for two girls to go alone through this country. You should pretend to be boys. These buckskins could be cut to fit you and you would look like a couple country boys out to seek your fortune,” John said.

“It is uncouth.”

What’s going on, Miranda?

“You’ve chosen a fine time to return. I thought you’d left us.”

Well, I did just leave, but I can’t control when I come and go.

“Why now?”

Why? I ... Oh God!

“Take not the name of...”

I know, I know. Miranda. No. No.

I couldn’t put it into words but I knew. I knew that it had to be. Miranda’s continuing pain would be a constant reminder to me of the wolf’s teeth on my throat. I couldn’t have survived.

I think I’m dead.

“Lord have mercy,” Miranda said aloud. “Excuse me. I must walk alone for a few minutes.” She left the little store and headed for the barn, passing Katie on her way. She simply waved the girl away. When we were behind the barn she stopped and we wept.

The wolf. There is no way I could have survived with her teeth on my throat. I heard the raven cry as I felt her hit me and I was gone. My poor brother. My poor Aubrey. My poor parents. I’m dead.

“You cannot be dead. You must not be dead.”

I don’t think there is anything I can do about it.

“But if you are dead and you are in me ... Then it is ... Forever. I must share my body with you and my mind. I will never be me again. I will go insane.”

No, Miranda. Even if I have to silence myself and ride without ever thinking a thought, I will not force you to bear me like that. Just please give me a little time before ... before...

“It is May and we are preparing for our departure to the north. I can always use your help, it seems, when we are traveling. Truly, Friend Ramie, I wish you no harm. I have been angry with you for leaving me and now I am angry that you have returned. It makes no sense, but my heart has thrown these thoughts at me. Let us try to help each other for a while.”

Miranda, please be my friend. I don’t have anyone now.

I was so self-absorbed that I scarcely noticed the activity going on around me. I could see no way that I could have survived the wolf attack. I couldn’t have moved my rifle far enough to hit her. I’d felt her teeth on my throat and Miranda’s sore throat was a constant reminder. Why didn’t anyone prepare people for the truth about dying? You just get ripped out of your body and planted in someone who doesn’t want you there, with no friends and no family.

As we worked putting bundles in the wagon, tears kept flowing down Miranda’s cheeks and I couldn’t tell if they were hers or mine. I’d heard how, when people lost a loved one, they regretted harsh words and unsaid feelings. But that was supposed to be the regrets of the living. I was dead. I didn’t tell my family how much I loved them. Didn’t tell them often enough. Now it was too late.

John was a good man and was happy with his new wife. Beulah was already rounding in pregnancy and did her best to emphasize it by the way she stood and walked. And as far as I could tell, she was happy. John stopped frequently in the day to pat her tummy. He had also decided that he would help us on our way as much as possible. We were not equipping to homestead as we intended to catch up with Miranda’s family. But we needed to travel and to camp. Victuals, blankets, and tarps for shelter were among the things he stocked for us. He also gave us a wooden box with firing caps for the pistols and a horn of powder. I found a shot pouch filled with lead balls lying on my bedroll.

That got me thinking, though. The pistols would be handy for protection if we were close. I had no confidence in my own ability to hit a target more than twenty feet away and was reasonably certain Miranda had not been target practicing. If we needed to hunt for food, the Colt Navies would be useless.

We need a rifle.

“Really? I can’t even shoot these sidearms you insist I carry. Why must we have a rifle?”

A rifle is easier to shoot and more accurate than a revolver. We might need to shoot a deer in order to survive.

“I hate this. Demon Ramie, you must talk about this with John. I simply cannot.”

We went to see John and I told him what I thought. He nodded.

“I see the point. I would like to help you but rifles do not fall from the sky like raindrops.” He stopped and thought a minute, looking at my slight frame and shaking his head. “Well, there is one.” He dug around behind a barrel and came out with a long gun. It would almost reach from the floor to Miranda’s armpit. “I don’t want to say where I got this damn Yankee rifle. And do not tell anyone where you got it. In fact, you should carry it out of sight. It is a cartridge rifle. You load it on Sunday and shoot it all week. That should be suitable for your needs. It takes a .44 cartridge but I believe the sighting is catawampus.”

“I cannot simply accept this as a gift,” I said. “It is a fine rifle.” I’d seen a reproduction in Kurt’s store, though I’d never fired it.

“Indeed. I have coveted your Colt Navies. I will trade you one for one. With one condition,” he said. I contemplated the benefit of giving up one of the Navies in trade for the Henry. It seemed like a good trade.

“The condition?”

“Wear the buckskins I gave you and travel as a boy. I do not fancy sending you into the wilderness to be raped and enslaved.” Miranda struggled to regain her voice, but she’d given me control to negotiate the trade and I wasn’t giving it back.

“It is acceptable,” I said. He slapped a box of .44 Henry rimfire cartridges on the counter and I removed one of the gun belts. I took the rifle and cartridges to the back room where Katie and I had slept for the past eight months and began stripping off Miranda’s dress.

Stop! Demon Ramie, I will not wear trousers! No lady would ever wear them.

“Miranda, hush. The rules have all changed. Hell, just look in the mirror.” It was a small glass and I moved it up and down to show her naked body to her. I blushed in spite of myself. “Damn it, Miranda, I’d do my best to get between your legs. These buckskins will hide some of your womanly charms so that one day perhaps your husband will have the pristine joy of you. Now put the damned pants on.” She stopped fighting me and I slid the buckskins up over my legs. They were soft and felt good going up our thighs. The shirt dropped over my breasts and we felt our nipples rub against the sensuous material for the first time. At least the shirt hid a bit of her shape.

What about Katie? She is a woman and just as pretty.

“She can travel as our sister or wife. Whatever.”