OverTime 03: Slipping (First 70 Chapters)

Chapter 43: The Wait is Over (Lillabit)

The Castaways' care package helped get me through that first week after Fort Laramie: The Week of Waiting.

I kept busy with other, useful things of course. I milked Sundae twice a day, then strained the warm milk through cheesecloth and paid close attention to how Schmidty used it for cream and butter. I mended clothes, and I wrote letters for the boys, and I helped with the dish washing and the mule currying. As we left the North Platte behind, I resumed my duties collecting buffalo chips for fuel. I reassured Clayton, the nighthawk who feared he'd seen something in the moonlight, that even if there was such a thing as ghosts, they couldn't hurt him. And I stole little moments with my husband, when he checked on me at lunch, or when we sometimes ate dinner at the same time, and of course in our little tent on the prairie.

Surely we didn't just have sex. We made love. He put his trust in me, every time he let himself need me. My nights in Jacob's arms, even as he slept, worked like my own personal recharging station. He was so wholly and effortlessly strong that mere physical contact with him strengthened me too.

But the bulk of this journey remained about driving cattle, something I had to stay separate from--as much as was possible, when the cows, wagons, horses, and I all sometimes had to use the same stretch of less-rocky-than-the-rest ground. We were passing the Laramie Mountains, which made up in dry ruggedness what they lost in dramatic height, so passage became something of a challenge, here and there.

All of that left me with time to fill, time that I devoted to writing and to my pre-packed surprises.

I used previously unknown powers of self-control to only open one gift per day. Maybe I should have parceled them out at one per week, considering that they might have to last a lifetime, but the farther I walked away from everyone and everything I had previously known, one day at a time, the more I needed the distraction.

Day one had given me the photographs. Day two, I chose one of the book-sized parcels and unwrapped a red hard-cover of Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll.

Opposite the title page, Mitch had written, For someone who stepped into another world--and in your case, willingly stayed! Prof. Mitch, aka Team Leader J

When I read some of the book to Amos, he proclaimed to enjoy it, but not to understand it. I admitted that I didn't understand all of it, either, and wondered if that mattered. With the help of Amos's afternoon serenade, I didn't dream of modern times. Instead I dreamed of mirrors and chessboards.

Umm... thank you, Mitch?

Day three, I opened a small paper package and found a clear bottle labeled "FINE Sweet Oil." Inside its paper wrap, Maddie had written, Kind of like olive oil. Good for ear aches, with brief instructions on how to use it.

This might prove especially good for the baby. Thanks, Maddie!

Day four, I chose another book: Beeton's Book of Household Management, edited by Mrs. Isabella Beeton. Ted had inscribed that one: Iz-Bee is the Martha Stewart of her day--without the rap sheet. Hope it helps! Loves and kissies, Thurston Howell III.

That last part was a Gilligan's Island joke.

The huge book's contents were as old-fashioned as you might expect. It began by saying, "AS WITH THE COMMANDER OF AN ARMY, or the leader of any enterprise, so it is with the mistress of a house." Then Iz-Bee started dispensing advice, complete with Bible quotes, about getting up early, receiving "morning calls," and how to hold a fancy dinner party. She offered a whole chapter on the housekeeper, after reviewing the hiring of domestics and the duties of a scullery maid. Her suggested wages for those servants were listed in pounds sterling, revealing that this was a British book.