It is later the same day, or rather it is night once more. I write this by the light of the fire, but it is difficult to see the page. I could use a second fire behind me. I have noticed that campfires are all too much in one direction, not enough in another. Sort of like Mrs. Devalaris back home. She could be your best friend when she needed something, but once she got it from you, in my case help with her preserves last autumn, then you would be lucky to drag a hello from her tight-lipped self.
I decided she was a most unpleasant woman. I told Papa as much one dark afternoon while I was baking, and he said it was not her fault, likely she was dropped on her head as a baby.
I had checked the bread for the last time, knowing it was near done, when I stopped what I was doing and looked over at him. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his big hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. It had been cold early that fall and Papa liked to have a cup of something hot before he went back out to milk Bess.
He kept his face straight, so at first I did not know what to think of his comment, then he couldn’t help it and a laugh popped right out of his mouth.
It was made funnier if you know Papa never likes to say anything bad about other folks. But I guess Mrs. Devalaris and her fickle ways even got to him.
But that is about enough of why our old neighbor is like a campfire. I am cold and there is no sign nor sound of Papa and the boys. I should say I am not terribly alarmed, as I can picture them holed up, huddled around their own warming blaze, hands held out toward it, while thick slices of buffalo meat sizzle on green sticks.
It has only been one day, but I would give a lot right now to have them back here with me. I will admit it is frightening to be alone like this. I don’t much like it, but will have to put up with it, probably until morning because only a fool would try to walk back through these strange woods in the night to get back to camp. And Papa is no fool. Nor is William. But Thomas . . . he will likely be a fool a while longer, anyway. I hope he outgrows it.
Still, I will keep the fire burning all night long, I vow it.