There.
Henrietta felt it land.
She looked down at herself deliberately.
Then back at him.
“My condition is that I am breathing, Mr. Lawson.”
“I intend to continue.”
Caleb’s eyes sharpened.
“Hedi—”
“You asked if I understand trail.”
“I do.”
“I know heat.”
“I know cold.”
“I know flour sacks weigh fifty pounds whether woman carrying them is thin or fat.”
“I know twelve hungry men become unpleasant by sunset.”
“And I know thirty dollars will not turn itself into beef simply because your pride prefers cattle to goats.”
Caleb said nothing.
Henrietta pointed toward wagon.
“Now either help me load or stand somewhere else looking skeptical.”
Caleb helped.
He did not apologize.
Not then.
The first day out of Tascosa was easier than Henrietta expected.
The second was worse.
The chuck wagon bounced over every stone in Texas.
By afternoon her back ached.
By evening her thighs were bruised where the seat edge hit whenever one wheel dropped into a rut.
Her body made the narrow wagon space difficult.
She did not pretend otherwise.
On the second morning she asked Levi to help reinforce the step after the original plank cracked.
Jasper laughed.
“Wagon wasn’t built for that much cook.”
Henrietta looked at the broken plank.
“Then wagon was poorly built.”
Jasper laughed louder.
Caleb heard from twenty yards away.
He said nothing.
That hurt more than Jasper’s joke.
Henrietta climbed back into wagon and drove.
Breakfast remained on time.
So did supper.
On the third evening, Caleb came to her fire after everyone else had eaten.
Henrietta was scraping the Dutch oven.
He stood silently.
She continued working.
Finally:
“I should have stopped Higgins.”
Henrietta did not look up.
“Yes.”
Caleb waited.
“I thought you’d tell me it didn’t matter.”
“It mattered.”
His expression shifted.
She put the pot down.
“I don’t need you to rescue me every time some man decides he is clever.”
“But when you are standing ten yards away wearing trail boss’s hat, silence starts looking like approval.”
Caleb absorbed that.
“I wasn’t approving.”
“No one could tell.”
He looked toward camp.
“Higgins has been riding with me six years.”
“That explains knowing him.”
“Not excusing him.”
Henrietta finally looked up.
“Good.”
Caleb rubbed a thumb against his belt.
“I’ll speak to him.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“No?”
“You speak to crew.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The rule.”
“What rule?”
“That men can dislike my cooking.”
“They can dislike goats.”
“They can dislike my temper.”
“They do not get to turn my body into nightly entertainment.”
Caleb’s face hardened.
“That is fair.”
“It is not charity.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
Then nodded once.
That night Caleb addressed camp.
Briefly.
“No jokes about another person’s body.”
Jasper smirked.
“What is this, church?”
Caleb looked at him.
“No.”
“In church you get forgiven.”
Nobody laughed.
Jasper stopped.
Henrietta heard from behind the wagon.
She smiled despite herself.
The following days changed camp more through food than speeches.
Henrietta used what she had.
Beans became soup one night and mashed filling for tortillas the next.
She mixed dried apples into skillet cakes.