Page 68 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
“She dropped shi—I mean poop on Virgil’s boots.” Owen eyed the kids.
“Did you?” Nettie asked with a solemn blink.
“I dropped it in front of his boots,” Marigold stated. “Which wasn’t appropriate. Being angry with someone doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be rude to them.”
“You’re angry with Papa?” Nettie asked.
“Yes. I will be angry with him for some time. That doesn’t mean I’m angry with you.” She cupped Nettie’s little face and searched up the closest thing she had to a reassuring smile. “You and I are still friends, and we’ll see each other every day.”
Marigold wanted to hug this little girl until her nerves had calmed down and her tears weren’t pressing against the backs of her eyes. She made herself lift her head and scan all the men’s faces, though. A spike seemed to be lodged in her chest, one she couldn’t swallow past.
“But I won’t sleep at the cabin any longer. Tom, would it be all right if I occupied one of the wickiups that are still standing in your family’s encampment?”
“I—” His jaw hung open. He looked to his partners’ faces. Every single one of them looked at Tom as though he’d just been handed his own hot turd.
“Come on, Levi. Back to work,” Emmett said, nudging the boy’s shoulder.
Levi didn’t move. “You’re not going to stay with us in the cabin?”
“I’ll come across in the morning the way Leyohna did. And I’ll read a story before bed, same as always.”
“So you’re going to sleep with Tom?” Owen prodded with a sly grin.
“Shutup, Owen,” Ira said through his teeth.
“There are at least three empty structures,” Marigold pressed Tom.
“Built for summer, Mrs. Davis. And with it being so quiet over there, I don’t know that you’d be safe. Wolves…” He looked to the other men.
“Oh, yeah. Lynx,” Emmett said.
“Raccoons.” Ira nodded.
“With all the noise we make?” Owen scoffed. “We barely get squirrels.”
“Owen,” Tom said, practically spitting his name. “I saw a coyote as I was riding in.”
“I’ll come sleep with you there.” Levi nodded in the same decisive way Virgil did. “I’ll bring my slingshot.”
“Me, too,” Nettie said. “So you don’t get cold at night.”
“Me,” Harley said, twisting around in Tom’s hold. It was always hard to tell if Harley fully understood what was being said, but he knew his siblings were up to something, and he would never be left behind if he could help it.
“Virgil’s going to be so glad you’re back,” Owen said to Tom, mouth still dancing with a grin.
“Here comes Virgil,” Tom said, looking past her. “You should ask him.”
“I’ve said all I need to say to Mr. Gardner for the moment. He’s my employer, not my husband. I can sleep where I like. Unless you expressly forbid it, I will move into one of the wickiups today.”
Tom’s mouth was opening and closing like a landed fish, helpless gaze fixed beyond her. As Virgil’s steps came up behind her, Marigold said, “Children, you are welcome anytime, but stay here with the men while I move my things. I’ll come back for the little ones in a while.”
“You want any help?” Owen called as she started toward the cabin.
“Yes,” Marigold said tartly. “Since you seem so determined to stir the contents of one of these, take charge of it.” She handed him the chamber pot and walked away.
…
Virgil found her pouring beans into the stew pot, something he supposed she always did midday so the children had something to eat later. Sohedid, when his workday was done.
