"I'm not a nurse," she said, sounding much less defiant. "I don't know the first thing about broken legs and such."
"You don't have to," Daniel assured her. "Just get on over here and help me lift it onto the bed."
She moved grudgingly, but finally reached the edge of the mattress and held out her bound wrists.
"How am I supposed to help you with my hands tied?"
Daniel leaned up long enough to remove the binding, a satin sash that looked as if it had come from a fine dressing gown. He caught himself wondering if it was a gown she wore when plying her trade, then imagined her nude beneath the slick satin.
"Now what?" she asked.
Suddenly more interested in her than his injury, Daniel collapsed against his pillow and grinned. "I'll leave that up to you."
Apparently missing the innuendo, she got down on her knees, took his injured limb into her hands as if she were hefting a sack of sugar, and then flung it onto the mattress.
Daniel yowled in pain. "Damn it all, woman. Can't you see that leg is broken?"
"I told you I wasn't a nurse, didn't I?"
Beads of sweat were rolling down his brow and his teeth were clenched against the pain when the cabin door opened. Long Belly came into the room with a second woman following along behind him.
"Ah, brother," he said, kicking the door shut. "See how dutifully my gift tends you? I have chosen well, have I not?"
Daniel grumbled under his breath, in too much agony to risk speaking yet.
"This is my woman," Long Belly announced, dragging her up to the foot of the bed. "She is called Sissy."
Daniel looked her over, his grimace fading as he made out her unusual features. "She's a little different, even for you."
With a sudden grin, Long Belly patted Sissy's full head of tight curls. "She wears the great mane of a buffalo, and so may carry within her its spirit. I am thinking of taking her to my people in a few days and making a gift of her. I will call her Buffalo Hair."
The newly christened 'Buffalo Hair' turned to him with a frown, but said nothing.
"What is your tribe, Buffalo Hair? I do not recognize it in you."
She gave him a blank look in return.
"Who are your people?"
Daniel laughed, and then clarified the situation for Long Belly. "Africans, I would say, along with a little something else. Am I right, darling?"
The dark-skinned prostitute turned her frown on Daniel, "My mother whored same as me," she said in a monotone. "She didn't rightly know who or what that little something else was, and neither do I."
Long Belly scratched his head. "Africans? Who are these people? Where do they roam?"
"If you'd paid more attention to the lessons I've been trying to teach you," said Daniel, "then you'd know where Africa is. It's a whole different continent. Your woman's people are not from around these parts."
"Africa?" Long Belly looked her over again, and then shrugged. "She is here now, she will be called Buffalo Hair, and she will do as I say."
"Good. Then send her to the stove." Daniel patted his growling belly. "I'm so hungry, I swear I can feel the weight falling off of me as I lay here. I could really go for some nice fluffy biscuits, a little gravy to dump over them, and ... what kind of grub do we have left in the smokehouse, Long Belly?"
"A barrel of pork," he said, "a couple of hangs, and an elk roast."
Daniel licked his lips and moaned. "It all sounds good to me. Why don't we let the women decide, since they're the ones who have to cook it?"
The dark-skinned whore shook her fluffy head. "I've been trained to do only one thing, and it ain't fixing grub. I don't know any more about frying pans than I do about having tea out of fine china."
Josie, who'd been happy to listen, not join this conversation, watched as Long Belly and Daniel both turned to her expectantly. Savages or not, this was one area in which she couldn't be persuaded by Satan himself. She'd starve herself to death before becoming the galley slave of these two. Careful to avoid both men's eyes, she
"You don't have to," Daniel assured her. "Just get on over here and help me lift it onto the bed."
She moved grudgingly, but finally reached the edge of the mattress and held out her bound wrists.
"How am I supposed to help you with my hands tied?"
Daniel leaned up long enough to remove the binding, a satin sash that looked as if it had come from a fine dressing gown. He caught himself wondering if it was a gown she wore when plying her trade, then imagined her nude beneath the slick satin.
"Now what?" she asked.
Suddenly more interested in her than his injury, Daniel collapsed against his pillow and grinned. "I'll leave that up to you."
Apparently missing the innuendo, she got down on her knees, took his injured limb into her hands as if she were hefting a sack of sugar, and then flung it onto the mattress.
Daniel yowled in pain. "Damn it all, woman. Can't you see that leg is broken?"
"I told you I wasn't a nurse, didn't I?"
Beads of sweat were rolling down his brow and his teeth were clenched against the pain when the cabin door opened. Long Belly came into the room with a second woman following along behind him.
"Ah, brother," he said, kicking the door shut. "See how dutifully my gift tends you? I have chosen well, have I not?"
Daniel grumbled under his breath, in too much agony to risk speaking yet.
"This is my woman," Long Belly announced, dragging her up to the foot of the bed. "She is called Sissy."
Daniel looked her over, his grimace fading as he made out her unusual features. "She's a little different, even for you."
With a sudden grin, Long Belly patted Sissy's full head of tight curls. "She wears the great mane of a buffalo, and so may carry within her its spirit. I am thinking of taking her to my people in a few days and making a gift of her. I will call her Buffalo Hair."
The newly christened 'Buffalo Hair' turned to him with a frown, but said nothing.
"What is your tribe, Buffalo Hair? I do not recognize it in you."
She gave him a blank look in return.
"Who are your people?"
Daniel laughed, and then clarified the situation for Long Belly. "Africans, I would say, along with a little something else. Am I right, darling?"
The dark-skinned prostitute turned her frown on Daniel, "My mother whored same as me," she said in a monotone. "She didn't rightly know who or what that little something else was, and neither do I."
Long Belly scratched his head. "Africans? Who are these people? Where do they roam?"
"If you'd paid more attention to the lessons I've been trying to teach you," said Daniel, "then you'd know where Africa is. It's a whole different continent. Your woman's people are not from around these parts."
"Africa?" Long Belly looked her over again, and then shrugged. "She is here now, she will be called Buffalo Hair, and she will do as I say."
"Good. Then send her to the stove." Daniel patted his growling belly. "I'm so hungry, I swear I can feel the weight falling off of me as I lay here. I could really go for some nice fluffy biscuits, a little gravy to dump over them, and ... what kind of grub do we have left in the smokehouse, Long Belly?"
"A barrel of pork," he said, "a couple of hangs, and an elk roast."
Daniel licked his lips and moaned. "It all sounds good to me. Why don't we let the women decide, since they're the ones who have to cook it?"
The dark-skinned whore shook her fluffy head. "I've been trained to do only one thing, and it ain't fixing grub. I don't know any more about frying pans than I do about having tea out of fine china."
Josie, who'd been happy to listen, not join this conversation, watched as Long Belly and Daniel both turned to her expectantly. Savages or not, this was one area in which she couldn't be persuaded by Satan himself. She'd starve herself to death before becoming the galley slave of these two. Careful to avoid both men's eyes, she
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