O’Malley nodded quickly.
“Yes.”
“Go to him.”
Judson pointed at Amos.
“Not cash.”
Amos’s smile weakened.
“Of course.”
Judson released the coin.
Then looked at Josie.
“Come on.”
Josie swallowed.
That was it?
No agreement.
No terms.
No question about whether she wanted to go.
Then again, why would he ask?
Her father had sold her.
Judson had paid.
Perhaps mountain law was simpler than civilized cruelty.
She stood.
Her knees shook.
Her father was already helping O’Malley gather flour.
Josie waited.
Surely he would say something.
Goodbye.
Be careful.
I am sorry.
Anything.
Amos lifted the salt pork.
“Don't forget the blankets.”
Josie stared.
He never looked at her.
Something inside her became very quiet.
She turned.
Walked toward Judson.
He opened the door.
Winter hit her face.
Josie stepped outside.
She did not look back.
Judson’s horse was enormous.
A dark draft cross with feathering around the hooves and a saddle large enough to resemble furniture.
Josie stared.
Judson untied the reins.
“You ride?”
“A little.”
He looked at her clothes.
Then the horse.
“I’ll help.”
Josie’s face heated.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I can mount.”
“I didn’t say you couldn't.”
“You were thinking it.”
“No.”
“What were you thinking?”
“That your shoes are tied with twine.”
She looked down.
He was right.
One sole had begun separating that morning.
Judson reached into one saddlebag.
Removed a pair of heavy leather overshoes.
“Too large.”
“For me?”
“For anyone reasonable.”
He placed them near her feet.
“Put those on.”
Josie stared.
“You bought me.”
Judson’s face changed.
“What?”
“At the store.”
He became absolutely still.
Then:
“No.”
“You gave my father supplies.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“No.”
Josie stared.
“That is exactly what happened.”
Judson stepped closer.
He was enormous from this distance.
Yet his voice lowered instead of rising.
“I bought winter supplies.”
“For him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why am I coming with you?”
“Because if you stay, he'll trade you again tomorrow.”
Josie’s breath caught.
Judson continued.
“You can come to my cabin.”
“You can eat.”
“Sleep.”
“Work if you choose.”
“When the pass opens, you can leave.”
She stared.
“You expect nothing?”
“I expect you to put those boots on before your toes freeze.”
Josie did not move.
Judson sighed.
“Woman.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she put on the overshoes.
He mounted first.
Reached down.
Josie froze.
She hated this part.
Men had tried helping her onto wagons before.
Some failed.
Others made jokes.
One had groaned theatrically while lifting.
She looked at Judson’s hand.
“I can climb.”
“Probably.”
“Then move.”