her, ignoring the impassive form of Anatali who had interrupted his attention to the horses. "I been paid half," Edge said. "I figure we're about halfway to where we were going. Few hours hard riding and I reckon I can be eating breakfast at a civilized restaurant. Might even take a bath while somebody's unspoilt daughter is cooking my ham and eggs."
"Bastard!" Martha screamed and Edge grinned as he saw the look of shock jump into the Zulu's eyes.
"Some lady," Edge said to Anatali.
"I'll cook for you," she yelled, jumped down from the wagon, lost her footing and pitched into a stream of muddy water.
"Don't rush so," Edge chided. "I ain't all that hungry."
He attended to his own horse, taking off the saddle and bedroll and ground hobbling it with the other three animals on a patch of ground short on both shelter and grazing, but the best available close at hand. Then he climbed into the dryness of the wagon and the Zulu joined him, looking on sadly as Martha worked over the fire. The lightning flashed and the accompanying cracks of thunder no longer seemed to bother her. It was obvious she was in the grip of a deep-seated, rage she had to fight to keep from exploding. The rain had completely destroyed her severe hairstyle now and the yellow tresses hanging down to her shoulders had a softening effect on her angular features. Edge watched her for a few moments and decided that if she lost some weight and made the most of what an unkind nature had given her, she could be an almost handsome woman. Not his type, but then he had high ideals.
"Women in my country have to work," Anatali said suddenly, as Edge began to remove his parka.
He looked at the Zulu and saw his smooth, black face was set in a reflective expression. "What about the rich ones?"
Anatali nodded sadly. "Suppose they are the same the world over. In my country, first the Boers, then the British. Some of them had women like Miss Martha. They should stay in the cities, I think."
"They're a pain in the ass wherever they are," Edge' answered bitterly as he began to unbutton his shirt. "After we eat, you take first watch, feller."
Anatali nodded, a man used to taking orders whether from a superior he hated or respected. Edge thought idly, as he unbuckled his belt, that in his case it was a little of both.
When Martha Wilder turned from the fire, holding a pan of sizzling slices of meat and bubbling beans, she almost dropped it at the sight of Edge stripped down to his red underwear. "Mr. Edge!" she exclaimed.
"I'm wet, Miss Wilder," he replied evenly. "I intend to get as dry as I can. You don't like looking at what a man's got under his clothes, you just close your eyes. But hand up that food before the rain turns it into cold stew."
She did as he said, keeping her eyes averted. She left the pot of coffee brewing amid the flames and accepted the assistance of the Zulu to clamber up into the wagon. She sat down to share in the meal, making sure that Anatali's massive body was between herself and Edge. The three of them ate in silence, as the lightning flashes became more intermittent and the thunder rolls moved north into the distance. But the beating of the rain against the canvas showed no sign of relenting in intensity. Anatali went out to get the coffee as Edge broke up more wood. As the woman poured the steaming black liquid into mugs, Edge scaled the wood through the slanting rain and on to the fire. The heat given off by the flames was negligible by the time it penetrated the wagon's interior, but the very fact of its glow in the darkness had a warming effect.
"Where'd your father get this silver, Miss Wilder?" Edge asked at length.
She was trying to dry her hair by rubbing it between her hands, "Out of a mine, of course," she snapped in reply, not looking at him.
"Not one of his own?"
She ruined her head to glare at him. "What are you insinuating?"
Anatali seemed to be embarrassed. "I go keep guard now," he said and without waiting for an
"Bastard!" Martha screamed and Edge grinned as he saw the look of shock jump into the Zulu's eyes.
"Some lady," Edge said to Anatali.
"I'll cook for you," she yelled, jumped down from the wagon, lost her footing and pitched into a stream of muddy water.
"Don't rush so," Edge chided. "I ain't all that hungry."
He attended to his own horse, taking off the saddle and bedroll and ground hobbling it with the other three animals on a patch of ground short on both shelter and grazing, but the best available close at hand. Then he climbed into the dryness of the wagon and the Zulu joined him, looking on sadly as Martha worked over the fire. The lightning flashed and the accompanying cracks of thunder no longer seemed to bother her. It was obvious she was in the grip of a deep-seated, rage she had to fight to keep from exploding. The rain had completely destroyed her severe hairstyle now and the yellow tresses hanging down to her shoulders had a softening effect on her angular features. Edge watched her for a few moments and decided that if she lost some weight and made the most of what an unkind nature had given her, she could be an almost handsome woman. Not his type, but then he had high ideals.
"Women in my country have to work," Anatali said suddenly, as Edge began to remove his parka.
He looked at the Zulu and saw his smooth, black face was set in a reflective expression. "What about the rich ones?"
Anatali nodded sadly. "Suppose they are the same the world over. In my country, first the Boers, then the British. Some of them had women like Miss Martha. They should stay in the cities, I think."
"They're a pain in the ass wherever they are," Edge' answered bitterly as he began to unbutton his shirt. "After we eat, you take first watch, feller."
Anatali nodded, a man used to taking orders whether from a superior he hated or respected. Edge thought idly, as he unbuckled his belt, that in his case it was a little of both.
When Martha Wilder turned from the fire, holding a pan of sizzling slices of meat and bubbling beans, she almost dropped it at the sight of Edge stripped down to his red underwear. "Mr. Edge!" she exclaimed.
"I'm wet, Miss Wilder," he replied evenly. "I intend to get as dry as I can. You don't like looking at what a man's got under his clothes, you just close your eyes. But hand up that food before the rain turns it into cold stew."
She did as he said, keeping her eyes averted. She left the pot of coffee brewing amid the flames and accepted the assistance of the Zulu to clamber up into the wagon. She sat down to share in the meal, making sure that Anatali's massive body was between herself and Edge. The three of them ate in silence, as the lightning flashes became more intermittent and the thunder rolls moved north into the distance. But the beating of the rain against the canvas showed no sign of relenting in intensity. Anatali went out to get the coffee as Edge broke up more wood. As the woman poured the steaming black liquid into mugs, Edge scaled the wood through the slanting rain and on to the fire. The heat given off by the flames was negligible by the time it penetrated the wagon's interior, but the very fact of its glow in the darkness had a warming effect.
"Where'd your father get this silver, Miss Wilder?" Edge asked at length.
She was trying to dry her hair by rubbing it between her hands, "Out of a mine, of course," she snapped in reply, not looking at him.
"Not one of his own?"
She ruined her head to glare at him. "What are you insinuating?"
Anatali seemed to be embarrassed. "I go keep guard now," he said and without waiting for an
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