The Bath

"Wait up," she called as she fell in step with him. "Here, let me take one," she offered. "I need to learn how to do it, you know."

He stopped and put one bucket on the ground for her. She tried to pick it up with one hand and then had to use both. She walked awkwardly with the bucket resting against her thigh, water splashing out of it spilling onto her dress and the ground. He let her carry on like this for about a few moments before he took the bucket back out of her hands.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "But we want to have some water when we get there."

"Right," she said. She was glad it was practically dark and he couldn't see the red flush her cheeks.

She followed him around the back of the house and into the bathing area. She was a little surprised that he knew where it was. He set one bucket on the ground and poured the other into the big wooden bathing trough. She picked up the second one and poured it in as well.

"That hardly any water at all!" she said incredulously. "A person can't bath in that!" She said looking and the barely filled tub.

"We have to haul more water," he said straight face. However he thought her reaction was hilarious and a little cute. 'You would have loved her.' He said silently to his deceased friend. He could practically hear Jeremiah say, 'I did love her. Now keep helping her,' his friend would have said.

"More?!" Sophie asked? Did her maids do this every time she wanted to bath? This was ridiculous. "Where are the coals to heat the water?" she asked, realizing that she didn't see any.

"Wood tub," he explained, kicking it with his boot. "That would start a fire."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in horror.

"I have to bathe in cold water?"

He didn't smile but she could see the humor in his eyes. This was hilarious to him. He was worried when Jeremiah had told him about his soon to be bride, that she would not be able to handle this. His father was the blacksmith at big manor in jolly old England and he had a good picture of what the women were like there. Completely unprepared for the wilds of the new world. She was kind though. At least from what he had seen of her. And she wasn't looking down at the idea now, it had just obviously never occurred to her that this was a possibility. He watched her mind work as she processed it.

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "Cold water, right."

"Usually you don't fill it all the way just enough to wash," he searched for the most appropriate word to say in front of a lady like her. "Enough to wash everything." He settled for lamely.

"Right," she tried to sound confident, like she understood. But the truth was she wasn't. She was used to long warm baths completely submerged in water. "If I wasn't completely filthy," she admitted. "I don't think this would be worth it."

He didn't say anything but he understood. It was a lot of work to bathe.

They walked back to the well and repeated the process two more times. The second time he didn't empty the entirety of the last bucket of water in the bath. There was still not very much water in the bath. Sophie stared at it considering.

"How do I wash my hair?" It was such an odd thing to ask this man, who's own hair was cut very short. "There isn't enough water to get it wall wet," she explained further.

He held up the bucket of remaining water. "I think most women just kneel over the tub and pour the bucket over their hair to wash it. That way they don't have to bathe every time they need to wash their hair."

"Oh, okay." She looked at the bucket and tried to imagine pouring it over herself.

He signed an exasperated sign. He could see she was still struggling. He liked her, but this was a little ridiculous. 'Come in Tom, snow her.' He could hear Jeremiah saying. He knew that is just what his friend would say.

"Fine," he said. "Kneel down."

"What?" she asked, her face stricken with astonishment.

"Kneel down by the tub I will show you."

Her eyes flashed wide. He could not be serious. She looked at the door to the house. What if Frida came out? No, she thought. Frida probably wouldn't because she was supposed to be bathing.

"This can't be appropriate," she said in a whisper.

"New world new rules," he said with a shrug. "You're fully clothed." He pointed out.

His eyes darted to the side of the tub, indicating that she should kneel. With a sigh, she pulled the ribbon out of her hair letting it fall to her shoulders and she knelt down by the tub and flopped her long red hair over the side.

His eyes widened, for an imperceptible moment. Her hair was gorgeous and much longer than he anticipated. No wonder she was worried about it. He grabbed a small terry cloth towel that was hanging nearby and put it over her shoulders. She pulled it tightly around herself to protect her clothing from any stray water. He was not prepared for how close of a proximity this would put him to this captivating woman, but there was no going back now. He picked up the remaining bucket and poured half its contents onto the back of her head and her hair. She let out a wail.

"Ahhh!" she screamed. "Ttthttthat iiis sssssooo cccoold," she said through gasps. She was glad she couldn't see his face because he was stifling a laugh. Her long dark red hair was streaming down the front of her face and she was shivering. He handed her the bar of soap next to the tub and instructed her to wash her hair.

She created a lather between her hand and soaped her hair up. She could feel the dirt all in her scalp As she scrubbed. Her hair had never been this dirty before. She rubbed the soap between her hands creating more of a lather and applied it to the ends of her hair.

He had actually really never watched a woman wash her hair. He had seen it from afar but not close up. He had also never seen a woman with quite so much hair. It was thick and cumbersome. She was struggling to get soap all over it. He was tempted to help her but he resisted. That was inappropriate on so my levels and she needed to learn to care for herself. So, he waited patiently for her.

"Okay," she said. "I think I'm ready." This time she braced herself for the cold water. He poured the water starting at the back of her head and then down her long cascading hair. He unknowingly reached down and ran his hands through her hair helping the water rinse the bubbles through it.

She stiffened slightly when he touched her but it wasn't unwelcome. She couldn't see him being bent over the tub and with it being nearly completely dark now, but she could feel his presence. This was, of course, a first for her as well.

Once she got all the soap out of her hair she rang it out twisting it through her fingers.

"Thank you," she said when she was finally able to lift her head.

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait," she stopped him. He didn't didn't say anything but turned around to look at her.

"I don't even know your name," she said, still wringing her hair out.

"Thomas, Thomas Donaland."

"Well Thomas, you are officially my most favorite person on this whole continent."

At that, Thomas did smile. A big sideways grin. He couldn't help it.

"Thank you," he said, a little embarrassed.

"I don't know if that is a good thing," she warned. "Cause now I'm going to visit and bother you again."

He nodded.

"Goodnight Sophie, and I suppose I will be seeing you then." He left thinking that didn't sound all that bad.