Her Cherokee Groom by Valerie Hansen

Author:Valerie Hansen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It looked to Annabelle as if the boy was about to ruin their flour supply. She almost told him to stop what he was doing, then thought better of it and hunkered down to watch him work, instead.

Wielding Charles’s knife he cut an X-shaped slit in the flour sack on one side, near the top, and pushed back the coarse fabric to expose some of the contents. Then he used the tip of the knife to pick up a dab of baking powder and added it to the exposed flour.

“I’ll need some clean water,” he told Annabelle.

Nary a please or a thank-you was offered but she complied, fetching him one of their animal-hide canteens.

Pushing a depression in the flour where he had added the baking powder, the boy poured in enough water to make a paste, stirred it slightly with the knife blade, then drizzled in a bit of the hot fat.

“Won’t that cook it?” Annabelle asked.

“Not if the water was cold enough.”

“Oh.” She had watched Lucy make biscuits in a slightly similar fashion but seeing it done in the forest with nothing but a sack of flour and a hunting knife was rather impressive.

Finally, Johnny put his hands into the dough and worked it until it was a solid, gummy ball that he summarily handed to her.

When Annabelle stood there, just staring at the blob of dough, he said, “Break off small pieces and wrap them around a clean stick like that one.” He pointed to a leftover piece of kindling. “Then hold it over the fire. Watch so it doesn’t burn.”

“Should I wash the stick first?”

The Cherokee child rolled his eyes. “You can if you want to. If you get it too wet the dough might slide off.”

“Oh.” It occurred to her that she had been promoted to kitchen helper. That was fine with her. As long as Johnny was cooking and needed to speak to her, at least she wouldn’t continue to get the silent treatment.

That was what had hurt the most. Rejoining him after coming out of the chapel had resulted in one of the most difficult moments they’d shared. He had behaved as if he’d been asked to hold getaway horses for a couple of bank robbers rather than for friends and family. It was only after Charles had added the pack mule to their possessions that the boy had seemed to mellow.

Of course, he did want to ride the mule so he’d have a mount of his own and was thus being more tractable. That was a normal reaction. Annabelle didn’t mind if he got his way once in a while. Children needed things of their own. Things that they did not have to share with adults.

Like my old doll, Rosie, she mused, smiling fondly. Now that they were on their way she was even gladder that she had chosen to stuff the precious relic into the bottom of her valise. It might be of no earthly use at present, but it had once meant the world to her.

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