Better Off

-Three years later-

The days were growing longer and the sun warmer as women from all over town busied themselves with the spring cleaning. Celeste was no exception, her arms carrying loads of bedding to the back of a saloon, where she was met with cheerful greetings from the many black women who managed to escape the war that raged down south. There were white women as well, and the occasional tribes-woman who had married into white families. For a few weeks, these women were virtually the same; working to clear away the winter's clutter, clucking away about the business of their families, a few of them had even welcomed new children into the world.

Celeste had nothing particularly in common with many of these people except for the tribeswomen, with whom she would speak in a Native language on occasion.The way she was raised was supposed to be a secret so she tried to take great care in who she divulged her past to. She couldn't know who would go running their mouth around town.

A lady of the evening strode out the back of the local saloon with her own cleaning and beamed at Celeste who dropped the sheets onto a table to fold. Most of these women thought Celeste a strange girl who appeared out of nowhere. She was a thick-framed youth with yellow hair down to the small of her back, eyes the color of a spring meadow and a steady unkempt look that made her stand out despite her best efforts to clean up. She still never understood how to wear her hair properly and this didn't go unnoticed by those who considered themselves "proper".

Celeste was also a strong girl, much more able-bodied than many of the women she had normal dealings with and certainly more so than the family she was staying with: The local school matron Anne and her daughter Emily, both of whom detested Celeste and her impolite ways. Many times the pair of them would bear down on Celeste for any and all reasons, especially that which embarrassed Anne and the integrity of her family's reputation. She never paid much attention to them, though finding any reason to stay busy and as far away from them as possible.

Doing men's work. That's what she knew how to do.

But this was necessary. The men of this town were finally called off to fight in the war and there was only troublemakers, the old or unhealthy that lingered behind. So it was with some hesitation that many women had to take up the mantle of hunters, builders, and even fighters. Celeste was often more than eager to task herself with such things, and with great proficiency. It was impressive to many but, of course, those who thought as much were silenced by those with money and influence. They did not find Celeste's behavior and knowledge acceptable and it so happened that Anne and Emily were among these.

A most improper young woman if they ever did see one.

Celeste wiped her brow and continued folding the many sheets and blankets. The hard work made this crisp spring day feel like the middle of summer, and the warmth of the sun didn't help. She found herself smiling though, simply happy to be busy.

"I heard she was raised by Indians…" She heard one of the women say in passing as she worked to fold a large blanket. This was a bit startling to her, but she managed to keep her mind on her task as she listened. Did she stumble? Did someone hear her on accident?

"Truly?" Another woman whispered. "No wonder she don't belong here."

"She ain't any better than the real savages by the looks of it."

"It's bad enough we have to work alongside these beasts and now we're becoming them? Shame."

Suddenly Celeste could feel the heat and the sweat on her face as she looked up from her chores, taking inventory of what she had completed. She wiped her hands on her apron, turned to the women and gave them an angry smile.

"Wouldn't ya' know, think I'm done with all this," She said and removed the apron from her waist.

"But, what about the rest of it!?" One of the women protested as Celeste turned toward the saloon.

"I think ya'll can handle it just fine," She said, giving them a coy little wave of her hand. "Besides, I'd think I wouldn't' know what I was doin', having been raised by Indians and all. It would just break my heart if I went and offended y'all's sensibilities."

Both of them glared at her, knowing there was no way to get her to come back. The lady standing on the edge of the saloon handrails laughed as Celeste approached. She turned and thudded defiantly against the wall with an equally amused grin on her face.

"Bunch a' half wits…" Celeste grumbled while eyeing the angry ladies who continued with their own work. "Yeah, go on now. Don't be lookin' at me like you did nothin' wrong."

"Ya' looked like you were enjoyin' your work until those two started talkin' out their asses" the lace-clad lady of the saloon leered over Celeste's shoulder. She responded with a guffaw and looked up at she who produced a bottle of whiskey from behind the banister.

"Ah, hell." Celeste's smile widened with delight. "You gonna share that, right?"

"Please. Like I would ever deny the best damn woman in this whole town." The lady laughed and passed the bottle to Celeste who took a big gulp, followed by a satisfied burning sigh. She found herself glaring at the other women, her thoughts venturing to who would give up her secret.

"None of ya'll were supposed to know about my rearin'." Celeste glared hard, the two mouthy women noticing and could barely contain their nervous faces. "But nobody can keep their noses in their own business 'round towns like this."

"And your sister-in-law can't keep her damn mouth shut." the lady of the saloon replied when Celeste passed her the bottle. She felt her eyes glare but the revelation that Emily would blow her cover wasn't as surprising as she thought it would be.

"Stupid blow-hard is what she is," Celeste said, crossing her arms in a huff. "If we were back on the plains, I'd give her what's for, that's for sure. Tie her to a damn tree, let the wilds sort it out."

"You ever think about leavin'?" The lady asked suddenly, catching her off guard. Celeste furrowed her brow and leaned over her shoulder. "I mean; nothin' really keepin' you here, right?

"Just waitin' for Nathaniel," Celeste said under her breath, though the thought was tantalizing. Nobody would really miss her if she left and she knew enough about the wilds to get around well enough on her own.

"I don't think you should." With that, the lady offered Celeste one more healthy gulp of whiskey before turning back into the saloon. She found herself staring off at the grass on the ground, thinking about the idea, but she really didn't want to leave Nathaniel behind.

Their relationship was forced in the beginning; all an attempt to acclimate herself to the life of a regular white woman, but she wasn't at all sure how that was really working out. For anybody, least of all her. The wounds inflicted on her from having to leave her Father and her life were still fresh despite the years that passed. But Nathaniel? They grew closer as time went on and she appreciated the distraction from her difficult transition. Nathaniel himself was somewhat of a wild child and it annoyed his mother, which was always a source of entertainment for Celeste.

It would take Celeste a year after she and Nathaniel were wed to open up to him, but that pleasant feeling would soon come to an end. A war was being waged and he couldn't stay.

Nathaniel left with his brother Henry for the front lines, and that left Celeste with her mother in law. A woman, for reasons she couldn't understand, who hated her with a passion. She was dark, surly and authoritarian. Anne was always displeased with anything that shook things out of order, and she was never shy about saying it.

But more than that: something about the woman always seemed a little wrong.Celeste could never comprehend what it was, but it was particularly evident now that Nathaniel and his brother were away fighting in the war. She had to try and keep calm any time she and Anne were in the same room for longer than a few moments. It wasn't easy. Just as Celeste found her thoughts wandering to another subject, she heard something in the distance that caught her attention.

"It can't be..." Celeste lifted her head and walked slowly in the direction of the sound, her heart beginning to race with anticipation. It had to be. Without warning she darted away from the other women, who stared after her as she skidded around the building, nearly falling in the process. There was no mistaking it.

The sound of drums.