Part 17 (1/2)

She just kind of flowed along, all graceful and elegant.

She put me in mind of my mother so much it made me feel peaceful and lonesome, both at the same time.

Once she was safe in her room, I went back to the night table. I set down the little pistol. Then I shucked down to just my sweater, which was dry and hung low enough to keep me decent in case I had to get up quick. I pulled back the bed covers, snuffed the lamp, and climbed into bed.

The sheets were silk. They felt slick, and mighty cold at first. After a spell, though, they warmed up.

The bed was so soft it snuggled against me. Not a bit like my bunk on the True D. Light. True D. Light. It didn't bounce and rock and pitch this way and that, either. It didn't bounce and rock and pitch this way and that, either.

I hadn't felt so comfortable in ages.

Nor so safe.

Come morning, I woke on my own. I just lay there a while, nice and warm, mighty glad to be where I was and not aboard the yacht any more. But then I got to thinking about Trudy. That took the pleasure out of lazing in bed.

I climbed out, tugged the sweater down as far as it would go, and stepped over to a window. Well, the sight of all that snow took my breath away. We had snow at home, now and again, but I'd never seen so much of it. None was falling now. It must've come down all night, though, for there to be such a load. It hung all white on the branches of the trees out there, must've been a foot thick on the roofs of the sheds and such, and looked to be knee-deep where it was stacked against the brick wall at the edge of the property. What with the sky clear, all that snow glared so white in the sun that it stung my eyes.

I saw some other houses away off in the distance, and wondered if maybe Whittle'd chosen one of them. It seemed likely. Before the notion could take a good hold on me, though, I quickly reminded myself how the General kept a pistol handy. Maybe that was a common practice in these parts, and Whittle'd gone into a house fixing to do murder and gotten himself killed for his troubles. I hung on to that idea. It helped some, but not much.

I could see a sliver of the bay from my window. It was bright blue, with white-topped waves rolling toward sh.o.r.e. The yacht wasn't in sight, of course. I judged it might be seen from a different corner of the house, but it wasn't a thing I wanted to look at, anyhow.

”Good morning, Trevor.”

Startled, I dragged my sweater down, stretching it toward my knees. Then I turned around.

”I hope you slept well,” Sarah said, and walked straight in.

With the daylight, I saw she was even prettier than I'd thought. Her s.h.i.+ny black hair was pinned up, her face rosy, her eyes bright and happy. She wore a dress that looked like green velvet and had white lace around the collar and wrists.

”I...I slept quite well, thank you.”

She came walking right at me. Her eyes flicked down at my bare legs. ”You must be freezing.”

I wasn't freezing at all. I was broiling. Sweat was trickling down my sides under the sweater.

”I brought these for you,” she said. For the first time, I noticed she was carrying a robe and slippers. ”They belonged to my father. They're probably too large, but they'll have to do until we can purchase a wardrobe for you.”

She handed over the robe. I had to let go of the sweater. Before it unstretched too far, though, I shook open the robe and let it drape. She crouched in front of me and set the slippers down. I was mighty glad to have the robe hanging betwixt her face and me.

”Try them on,” she said.

I stepped into the slippers. They felt a sight better than the cold floorboards. But they were too big, just as she'd said.

”Is your father away somewhere?” I asked.

From the look of loss that filled her eyes, I wished I hadn't asked. ”He died in battle some ten years ago.”

”I'm sorry.”

”We have much in common, you and I. We both lost our fathers in war. Mine was killed by the Utes at Milk Creek.”

”Utes? Are those Indians?”

She nodded, and stood up straight.

Well, she seemed to be living in the house with just her grandparents, so I allowed I wouldn't ask about her mother.

”Slip into the robe and come along now,” she said. ”I've prepared a hot bath for you downstairs.”

A hot bath!

”Smas.h.i.+ng!”

Luckily, she turned around and went for the door. I quickly plucked off the sweater. I got the robe on and tied its belt, then followed her into the hall. We went down the stairway, and she led me toward the rear of the house where I'd never been before. No sign of the General or Mable.

The kitchen was nice and warm with a fire in the stove. Off to one side, a door stood open. We went in, and there stood a tub chockful of water so hot, steam was rising off it.

”I'll go and fetch some of Papa's clothes for you,” Sarah said. ”They'll be too big, of course, but they'll have to do until we get you to a store.”

”Thank you,” I said.

I waited till she'd cleared out. She left the door open, more than likely to let heat keep coming in from the kitchen. But n.o.body was in sight, so I stripped off and climbed into the tub.

The water near scalded me. It was dandy! I hadn't taken a proper bath since the Wednesday night before I'd set out from home. Not that I'd been a stranger to water in all that time, what with a few dips in the ocean and waves splas.h.i.+ng me and getting myself showered by squalls so often. The sea water'd always left me salty and itchy. Every drop drop of water, whether it came from the ocean or the sky, had been just frigid. of water, whether it came from the ocean or the sky, had been just frigid.

So I was mighty glad to be in a tubful of hot water, even if it was sort of boiling me.

I lay there, just enjoying it for a spell. Then I soaped myself down and ducked under to get the suds out of my hair. When I came up for a breath, here was Sarah coming in with a bundle of clothes. The water was murky enough to hide my lower parts, thank goodness.

She put down a pair of shoes, then set herself in a chair with the other things on her lap and took to chatting with me. When she asked if I had any brothers or sisters and I said no, she allowed as how that was another thing we had in common. She'd been the only child of her parents. She went on from there, and told how she'd spent most of her early years in boarding schools because her mother had died of pneumonia when Sarah was only six, and her father had been a cavalry officer always on the move from one outpost to another out west until he wound up in Colorado and got himself killed by the Utes in seventy-nine. Later, she'd lived in Syracuse and taught at a girls' school until two years ago when her grandfather, the General, retired from the army. That's when she moved in here to live with him and Mable.

She said she cooked and cleaned house and did the shopping for them. As much as she appreciated them, however, she admitted she found herself lonesome for companions.h.i.+p of folks nearer to her own age. That's how come she was so glad I'd turned up last night.

I could see how it might wear on a person, spending night and day with n.o.body about except a couple of codgers. Even interesting interesting codgers like the General would likely get tiresome if they were your only company, and I'd already noticed that Mable wasn't much fun at all. codgers like the General would likely get tiresome if they were your only company, and I'd already noticed that Mable wasn't much fun at all.

Still, though, it seemed a trifle excessive for Sarah to be enjoying her new friend while he sat naked in a bathtub.

She kept chatting along until my water lost most of its heat and I commenced to s.h.i.+ver. She finally noticed. Maybe my lips were looking blue.

She fetched me a towel, and said, ”You get dressed while I start breakfast.”

She went into the kitchen. I could see her through the doorway, but she wasn't paying any mind to me, so I climbed out and dried myself. I shut the door and used the toilet, then hurried into the clothes. From the size of things, her dead papa was taller and leaner than Trudy's.