They made camp that night, and it took coaxing before I finally climbed down from the wagon. The one who spoke English held up a hand to help. I hesitated. How long had it been since I had touched another person? Since that morning when Papa hugged me before he left. I put my hand in that man’s, and my breath caught short. He did not exactly smile with his mouth, but his eyes did. Kind eyes.
They shared food, good, hot, cooked food, venison and nuts and berries, the sweetness hurt my mouth. He told me to eat but a little. I wanted all of their food and then some. You will be sick he said, patting his belly. I did not want to hear that, but he was right.