rather be alone. Go plow your fields.”
After the steady thuds of his footsteps faded away, Olivia lay in bed feeling
worse than just sick. She was tired. Of everything. A swamp of exhaustion had
begun sucking her down into it, even before this illness came upon her. She knew she would soon get better, be able to go back to her chores – but what for?
Why bother? It had come upon her unexpectedly, this not caring about anything.
She could remember how anxious she had been to get to Michigan, claim this
property, and make a new life; she just couldn’t remember why.
For the next two days, as she lay in bed slowly recovering, she failed to
regain any sense of urgency. So she would have her own farm; so what? There
was no one to share it with. Mourning would go off to claim land of his own.
She would go on hauling water and cutting wood to heat an empty cabin in the
middle of nowhere. If she fell into the river and drowned no one would notice –
or care if they did.
Not two months had passed since they’d boarded the boat in Erie, but it
seemed so long ago. She was no longer Olivia Killion, the storekeeper’s
daughter, but neither had she turned into someone new. She was nothing but two
pairs of limbs that got up every morning to do chores.
The only time her mood briefly improved was when she managed to work up
some anger at herself. What’s the matter with you? There used to be things you
cared about and wanted to do for yourself, the same way Jeremy does. Are a few
weeks of hard work more than you can take? Look out for your own self, yourown future. Who needs a man any way? All they want with a woman is someone
to boss.
It didn’t work for long. She always ended up admitting that she surely did
want a man. Not bossing her around, but giving shape to her life.
A few times each day Mourning came in to gently feed her spoonfuls of tea
and Olivia managed to smile at the big black guardian angel hovering over her.
He might as well have been the only other human being left on earth. When her
fever finally broke, he brought his mattress from the barn, threw it down in front of the cabin, spread a sheet over it, and helped her outside.
“You sit out here in the sun,” he said. “Fresh air gonna do you good.”
He brought her a pot of tea and a plate of bread and jam. He also tossed down
a blanket, towel, clean nightgown, bar of soap, and a washrag. He lugged the washtub over near her and filled it with water he had heated over the fire. Then
he hauled Olivia’s damp mattress and bedding outside and spread them to air on
the buffalo grass.
“I be choppin’ trees ’round back, so you can clean yourself up, if you be
wantin’ to,” he said. “I come back in an hour or so, see if you be needin’
anything.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, wanting to tell him how much she appreciated
having him there, but not knowing how. “I’ll give a whistle when I’m finished.”
That tub of clean water was what she needed first. After he’d been out of
sight for a few minutes and the steady blows of his axe began, Olivia pulled off
