Chapter 5: To Save Them All

Shivering from the cold water finally drove Netty back to the present, and from there to the dry grass on shore. Once out of the water she wrung the thin dress out as best she could before putting it back on and going back to camp.

She was in her own fuzzy world when she reached the camp, and saw the fire was burning bright and warm. She sleepily went to it, enjoying the heat sinking into her skin and drying her damp nightdress.

The flickering fire brought thoughts of her mother to the forefront. The older woman had never made mention of the rubbing and groping though she had to know what was happening. Netty could tell it in the way her mother’s eyes blankly appraised her in the rare moments she looked at her at all. Sometimes her eyes would flick down to Netty’s hips in a way that made it obvious she found the overly wide thighs and rear to be unsightly. She had once remarked that all of the weight in Netty’s body had settled round her back end, and that her future children would starve for lack of breast to suckle from.

Not until she was nearly dry did she look across the flames and see Mr. Stent sitting there, his black eyes staring straight at her. He said nothing. She said nothing. He raised his flask to her with a tilt of his head, his mustache twerking up at one side in a smirk that said he knew what she’d done.

She quickly went back to bed without acknowledging him.

Tucked between Papa and Rand she focused her whole being on slowing her galloping heart. She snuggled her face into Papa’s chest. One of his large hands mindlessly stroked her hair a few times. Behind her Rand’s warm body pressed to her back, legs tucking against hers in a welcome spoon. He only grumbled a little when she pressed her cold feet to his warm shins, and when a shiver ran up her spine Rand pulled the blankets up further and laid an arm over her torso. In front she hugged Papa’s thick arm. Swaddled there between their warm sleepy bodies Netty felt safe enough to sleep.

Chapter 6

“Pull your collar up,” Mamma hissed as Netty squatted down to help with cooking breakfast over the fire the next morning.

Crimson flushed over Netty’s freckled face as she obeyed, pulling the high collar up to nearly her chin to hide the purple bruises on her neck where Rand’s fingers had gripped. She murmured an apology that her mother didn’t respond to.

“Re-braid your hair before anyone else is up and sees it,” Mamma ordered, snatching the spoon from Netty’s hand.

“Yes, Mamma,” Netty replied quietly.

She went to the wagon and got her wide-tooth comb before unwinding her hair to tame it. The firey orange mane fell in bushy curls below her waist. She carefully combed it, trying to make it flatten like the smooth strawberry-blonde hair of Mamma and her sisters with little success. By the time it was rebraided there were already wisps trying to escape again.

Mamma took one look at Netty’s hair and simply glared.

“I’ll be glad when you’re married off and I can stop worrying about your sisters catching any of your eccentricities,” Mamma commented in disgust. “You’re almost too old now; you’re father will have a hard time finding someone to take a wife already in her 20’s. You should already be in a house of your own with your own children instead of threatening the sanctity of mine. I have no idea how we’ll ever afford the dowery to get a man to take you.” Her pale green eyes flicked disapprovingly over Netty’s hips. “Well, you’re small enough some may think you younger, and some would likely take you just to have a willing pair of open legs at night.”

Netty didn’t reply. She couldn’t talk around the suffocating lump in her throat. Her vision blurred with tears as she stirred the breakfast porridge and tried to ignore how badly the insults hurt. Worse than the insult was the truth behind it. She thought about how she’d begged for Rand and Papa to enter her the night before, how desperately she wanted something inside her so that even the most filthy and barbaric act she could think of made her tingle. She didn’t realize she was imagining what it would have felt like to feel the rigid inches of Rand’s body pumping in and out of her back end until a rivulet of fluid ran down her inner leg.

“Good morning, Miss Netty. I trust you’re feeling ‘refreshed’ this morning?” Mr. Stent said, suddenly beside her warming his hands over the fire. He said the word ‘refreshed’ with a lilt, emphasizing it to show he remembered her night time bath in the creek. With a lurch she realized he had likely heard everything that happened in the wagon even over the wind.

Her shocked pale face turned to him, gray eyes wide and searching his bemused countenance. He didn’t comment further, but his expression said all she needed to know. He had heard. She didn’t have time to wonder what that could mean as her younger sisters came sleepy and yawning to the fire to warm up.

Netty spent the day of wagon riding deep in circulating thought about what it meant for Mr. Stent to know her secret. He had joined them by chance one morning last week when they stopped to water the horses from the same spot on the creek where he watered his own. He and Papa had started talking and found they got along well. Mr. Stent was going in the same direction as them, but at the next town he would turn north to his own homestead, whereas her family was going on west. He said he was a blacksmith, and by the size of his arms she could easily imagine him beating metal into any shape he wanted. She didn’t know for sure, but she assumed he must have a wife since he had his own land, may even have children that he just didn’t bring up.

Papa and he had become fast friends over lunch, and by the time they were ready to get back on the road it was decided Mr. Stent would travel with them over the following few days as far as the next town. Papa said it was because It was safer to travel in a bigger group because of attacks from bushwackers, but Netty suspected it was more that he missed the company of another man his own age.

Even though she was glad for Papa to have some appropriate company, Netty couldn’t wait for Mr. Stent to be on his way. She was already counting down the days until she would no longer feel the disquieting weight of his black-eyed gaze on her.

Late the next evening while Netty washed dishes Papa joined her at the edge of the stream. He squatted down, smoking his pipe in silence while she finished her chore. They didn’t speak, only shared in each other’s company while both were absorbed in their own thoughts. They were similar in that regard, both prone to being in their own heads.

When she was done he picked up the pile of tin plates and cups, she gathered the utensils, and together they turned towards camp. Once Papa put away the dishes for her he joined Mama and Mr. Stent who were engaged in deep discussion at Mr. Stent’s wagon. Netty thought it looked like they were reading over papers but didn’t give it much more attention.

Chores finished Netty settled down at the fire to knit until she could be dismissed to bed. Working with her hands relaxed her, giving her a much needed excuse to not pay any heed to the creepy attention of Mr. Stent. The sounds of their conversation reached her as just the tone of voice, no words stayed whole in the wind over even small distances out there, but it was clear that whatever they were talking about made Mama happy.  When she came to excuse Netty to bed it was with a smile on her face.

Mama’s change of attitude was welcome, but also unnerving. It niggled at Netty’s nerves as she lay in bed alone. She wished for Rand to change his mind about sleeping under the stars that night, wished he’d join her in the wagon and occupy her mind with more pleasant thoughts. Even if they just laid there amicably it would have been better than being alone worrying what made her mother smile at her after over a year of scowls.

When Papa came to bed hours later Netty was relieved, but it was short lived when he only took his pillows and a quilt to join Rand sleeping out in the night. It wasn’t so unusual for them to go off without her, but his demeanor was. He hadn’t even checked if she was awake. She could only remember a handful of nights during the trip where they hadn’t engaged themselves, and even on those occasions he’d still cuddled her a little. This time he hadn’t so much as touched her hair.

An overwhelming sense of something being wrong ruined what little sleep she managed to get that night. Well before daybreak she gave up trying to rest. She decided having the fire going and breakfast well under way before anyone else was up could perhaps keep her mother’s good spirits bolstered. She was more startled than anything when she found both her parents already there. Papa stood staring off at the horizon in silence, whereas Mama hummed as she cooked.

“Good morning, Papa. Good morning, Mama,” Netty greeted them quietly. It felt like she was intruding on them somehow.

“A fine morning it is!” Mama replied happily. The disquiet that had plagued Netty all night swelled into alarm. Mama was not a woman to be so cheerful to her eldest daughter, but she was positively giddy that morning. The way she beamed as she worked made the tiny hairs all over Netty’s body stand straight up.

Papa by contrast was dour and silent. He hadn’t so much as turned his eyes to see her. Something was wrong. She felt the wrongness so deep in her bones that for the first time in a long time the little flame of incessant need that nagged her went out entirely. Her whole body was cold suddenly.

“Is everything okay?” Netty asked in a small voice. Her question was directed at Papa, but Mama was the one to answer.

“Things are better today than they’ve been in years!” Mama exclaimed. “You’ll be married by week’s end, and we’ll have an extra $100 to purchase anything we need once we arrive in Oregon. Rand will be able to focus on settling down with a proper girl, the girls won’t be subjected to such lecherous things going on around them, and your father can still salvage his eternal soul from the clutches of Satan to whom you handed it to. This may be one of the best days of my whole life!”

Netty couldn’t so much as get a whisper of air into her lungs to try and reply. In truth, she couldn’t form an understanding of what her mother had said. Her only ability was to stare slack-jawed and shocked.

Now that she was talking Mama didn’t seem like she could stop.

“I knew as soon as you came out with hair like the curling flames of Hell that you’d be trouble. I knew right then and there you were born with the witch-book in your brain and a whore’s heart. I knew you’d be tempting men to your nethers, but I never thought the power of the devil would be so strong in you as to take your own brother and father. Well luckily for the both of them God sent us Mr. Stent to take your influence away from us all, and lucky for you too! He was something of an exorcist back East. He specialized in casting Lust out of people and setting them on the righteous path again. He told me yours is the worst case he’s ever came across, but he believes he was brought to us to save you. He thinks taking you as his wife will give him the sanctified power he needs to cast out devils as strong as what you’re afflicted with. And he’s even paying a generous dowry on top of that! I thought we’d have to pay someone to take you,” she laughed.

Netty tried hard to absorb this onslaught of information. The world tilted and disappeared.