The Outlaw's Angel (Daughters of the Prairie 1)

Naomi let out a laugh. Always. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Just Bessie, honey.”

“All right...Bessie.”

Bessie’s room at the back of the cooking shanty was tiny, but Naomi gasped when she saw the washtub in the corner.

Bessie’s brown eyes twinkled. “You’d fancy a bath, wouldn’t you now?”

“Oh, no,” Naomi said. “It’s not necessary.”

“I’ll have Davey haul in some water. It won’t be warm, but in this heat, I doubt you’ll mind.” She winked. “I even have some fancy soap my son sent me from New York. Can you believe it? New York?”

Naomi nodded. She knew all about New York. Had studied about it in school, but had never dreamed of actually visiting there. “Your son’s in New York?”

“Yup. He’s a gentleman’s gentleman for some highfalutin lawyer. He sends me money every month.” She beamed, pride evident in her eyes.

“How wonderful, but I can’t use your gift from him.”

“Pshaw. The stuff’s made for a lady like you, not an old hen like me. It’d be my pleasure for you to use it.”

“Miss Bessie?” A small voice beckoned as a knock sounded on the thin wood door separating Bessie’s quarters from the kitchen.

“Yes, come in, Davey,” Bessie said.

A small boy with skin brown as molasses entered, carrying an indigo bundle. “Mr. Ike said to bring this to you. It’s for Mr. Bobby’s lady.”

“Thank you, honey,” Bessie said, taking the bundle. “Now you run and fetch some water. Miss Naomi’s going to have a bath.”

“Yes’m.” The boy trotted off, a smile on his elfin brown face.

“Davey wandered into the camp about a year ago,” Bessie said. “Skinny as a rail and covered in open sores. Ike took him into the camp and we nursed him back to health. Now he does odd jobs for us, and we feed him and let him sleep in the bunkhouse with the men.”

Naomi nodded, hoping her shock wasn’t evident on her face. She had never seen a Negro before.

Bessie held up the blue bundle, and Naomi gasped. The fine fabric of the dress fell in ripples to the floor. Small white flowers floated across the sea of blue-violet dimity.

Naomi’s jaw dropped. She’d never seen such a lovely garment.

“I’ll be,” Bessie said. “This must be a gift for one of the workers’ ladies. Bobby must have offered a fine sum for him to part with it.” Her gaze wandered over Naomi’s body. “Looks just about your size too.”

“Oh my...”

“The boy’s sweet on you, honey, that’s for sure.”

Naomi’s cheeks warmed, and she reached to smooth the silky material. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’ll suit you, no doubt,” Bessie said, as she laid the dress across a wooden chair in the corner of the room. “Why don’t you just rest your weary bones a little on my bed, until Davey gets the tub all filled.”

Rest sounded like God’s elixir to Naomi, who wondered if she’d ever be free from aches and pains again. She smiled at the older woman and lay down on the narrow quilt-covered bed.

Within seconds, a voice was buzzing in her ear. “Your bath’s ready, honey.”

She sat up, unaware, at first, of her surroundings.

“You done fell asleep, and I’m not surprised.” Bessie bustled about the washtub. “I’ve set out the soap for you. When you’re finished, you just call me, and we’ll get you outfitted in that pretty new dress, you hear?”

Naomi stifled a yawn and nodded. After Bessie left, she undressed quickly and lowered herself into the tin washtub. The water was cool, and though warm would be better on her aching bones, at least it was wet and would erase the grime from her weary body. She unwrapped Bessie’s fancy soap and held it to her nose. Lavender and rose. Perfect. She smiled, thinking about smelling nice for Bobby when he saw her in the dress.