Waking up

(From here.)

Cotton was the first to wake up. He pulled the blanket up to Maggie's shoulders where it had slipped down, and smiled at her. She looked so peaceful, lying there without a care in the world.

He sat up, careful not to pull the blanket away from her, and looked around for her chemise, which was lying in a crumpled heap a few yards away. He got up, trying not to shiver in the cold, and picked it up, shaking it out and laying it out near the fire, which he started clearing out so he could relight it. He turned his head as Maggie stirred. "Mornin', lass. There'll be a cup of tea directly minute."

"Mm," she mumbled, curling tighter in the blanket and making no sign of leaving it. But after a moment of frowning and blinking against the morning, she pushed the blanket down from her shoulders and looked at herself. "Your shirt!"

"Don't worry; I got one on, ain't I?" he answered, looking down at himself. "Think your shimmy needs to dry out a bit afore you put it on; it's got soaked in dew an' it'll be awful cold." He rested the kettle over the flames on a couple of large stones and came back over. "Don't fret, lass, I don't mind you wearin' me other shirt for a bit, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," she answered, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and moving toward the fire. "That was strange. I barely remember. Did I really...?" She looked to the side where he had laid our her chemise to dry.

"Yes," he answered, though he wasn't really sure quite what she was trying to ask. To tell her that she'd ended up lying curled up in the grass, naked, would only embarrass her, he thought. He smiled and poured the hot water out, concentrating on making them each a cup of tea. "It was... You..." He held a tin mug out to her and shrugged. "Couldn't leave you there, not when it was cold as that, an' thick dew with it." What sort of man would leave his wife in that sort of situation, anyway?

She felt her heart melt, and she reached out suddenly to wrap her arms around him, almost causing him to spill the tea. "I love you, Gabe. You're the best man, you are. I can't imagine now..." She shook her head, not quite able to finish the sentence adequately. Instead, she simply kissed him.

He blushed, looking down. "Well, wasn't right to leave you... not like that. I..." He let his words trail off as she kissed him. "Said I'd look out for you, like. An', well, I'm glad you said as you'd wed me."

"Me too," she said with a grin. "So glad. Now I'm ready for that tea."

He passed her mug over. "I... I never knew it could hurt so much as it did when you didn't come back. An', well, I never knew anyone could be so happy as I was when you wed me... Reckon I'm the luckiest man alive." He grinned and picked his own mug up. "I dunno what I'd do without you, Maggie Cotton."

She smiled shyly. "I dunno what you'll do with me. But I'm glad at any rate." She looked down at her tea. "Sorry about last night. I don't remember what I was thinking. Sorry I woke you, but I'm glad you came and got me." She vaguely remembered a feeling of being stifled, smothered, enveloped, and wanting to be free. She took a deep breath now, filling her lungs with fresh morning air.

"I dunno either. But we don't have to worry about the future - ain't no sense in that, after all. An' you didn't wake me, not really... it was, well, it was you not bein' there that woke me." He found it strange how quickly he'd got used to sleeping with Maggie at his side. He had no idea how he was going to sleep alone, when the baggage couldn't catch up to the Rifles, once he was back with the Company.

Following the same line of thought, Maggie said, "I'm glad you did. And I'm well glad you get to be back here with me, and for a whole week too. Not that I'm glad you... that the captain... Well, he'll see how much he needs you while you're away."

By now others were waking, but Maggie was not much bothered by them. They were the ragtag women and children, the Portuguese followers, the cart drivers, the people that she walked with every day. Everything was better by daylight, even if it was a watery murky daylight.

"Aye, that we will. I ain't so easy to be got rid of, an' I jus' hope the captain realises he needs me - even a shillin' extra a week helps, after all." He smiled at her. "Hope you'm a bit warmer now, anyhow. 'Specially with that tea, you ought to warm up a bit."

He'd been lying curled up on the floor beside the dying fire ever since falling asleep the other evening. Usually he would've woken earlier than the rest, had his kit cleaned up out of habit and then got up and fetched the water by the time the men were stirring from their slumber. Of course waking even earlier now, and marching at a pace of a rifleman for a few days since, had worn him out. The peaceful surroundings of the camp, the feeling that he did not need to get early to water the riflemen, all fueled his body's want to take it slow, take a rest.

It had been so efficient as to make him sleep even through the conversation that Maggie and Gabe had had, through the stirring of the other camp followers and through the insistent chirping of his chick. When he did wake he blinked and rubbed at his eyes confused. It took a minute till he figured where he was. Of course he wasn't with the riflemen up ahead! It took him a few dazed moments for it all to come back and he sat up looking a bit like a befuddled pup who'd just woken up in a completely foreign part of his home, after its masters had taken him there while he slept.

He yawned and stared at the fire which was picking up. Gabriel Cotton had done a good job at reviving it. He stretched his arms, yawned openly, scratched his head and ruflled his hair which had gone to stand at odd ends, while picking of some of the dirt and bits of organic material of the ground where he lay.

He blinked, looked around again and released the little chick from its confines. It stood on its wobbily feet and probably gave him a very thorough talking to before trying to run around a bit. "...Need water?" He asked, his voice a bit raspy. "Um.. more'o'it?"

Maggie looked cautiously over at Pye who appeared to be talking to the ground, and she snatched up her chemise while he was thus distracted. "I'll just go and switch," she told Cotton, suddenly a bit shy. She had not known Pye for long at all, and she keenly hoped he had slept through the night. She took the blanket with her and hurried off to find the protective side of a wagon.

When he looked towards Gabriel and Maggie again, he saw her disappear in a hurry. He paused, tried to make sense of it all. Hadn't he seen her languishing comfortably earlier? Remembering the reaction of the other campfollowers he stifled a sigh. When he looked at Cotton the look on his face was apologetic, and so what what he said. "Sorry 'bout that..." He was not apologising for speaking, but for what he thought he'd done. Made Maggie go. It all made sense in his half awoke state.

When he was asleep she was there, when he woke, she was hurrying off. Was logical as day to him. He looked back to the fire quickly and checked to see if they'd run out of water. Busying himself that way, ready to fetch it if he was correct. Maybe Maggie would come back if he was off to refil it.

Cotton blinked as Maggie jumped up, snatching her chemise and skirts to go and dress. He wrapped his hands around his mug of tea and shrugged, glancing over to where Pye was. "Ain't your fault, lad," he said, then indicated the kettle. "Be handy if you could go an' get some more water in that, though. If you don't mind."

"Right 'way Gabe!" Pye stayed true to his promise. He took the kettle, just careful enough not to burn his hands on it's heated surface. With a quick turn on his heel, which was rather a contrast to his earlier yawning and sleepy appearance, he moved at a fast pace in the direction of the river. His chick tried to follow at a woobily pace and chirped it's tiny little lungs out, then turned about flapping its ..well what might later become wings, and running up to the breadbag that had remained there. It settled behind it looking worriedly at Cotton. It ducked low. Stayed like that for a while and then peeked out. It did recognise Cotton enough to recall the possibility of feed coming from him.

Cotton smiled and reached slowly for his own breadbag, rooting around inside it for some crumbs, which he scattered broadcast in front of the little ball of fluff. "Ain't goin' to hurt you," he said quietly, smiling at it. He hoped Maggie was feeling all right after the cold night she'd had.

The small chick studied Cotton. Flopped down.. then slowly got up again. It was clear it didn't have enough exercise, staying most of the time in the bread bag. It moved closer to Cotton and stopped. carefully picking the first bits of crumbs it quickly looked up again. Rather sweetly it then scratched at the floor with one of his little feet and picked some more food from the ground, moving closer.

"He really ought to let you ride on his pack, rather'n makin' you stay in that there haversack," Cotton said quietly, conversationally, to the little bird. He tossed some more crumbs to the little thing.

The chick chirped appreciatively. It looked as though it was agreeing to what he had just said, but it was probably more a simple vocalization. It moved closer again and ate the crumbs happily chirping a couple more times. It was tired already so it plopped itself down and watched the huge man with it's tiny dark eyes. Then after a few moments it struggled back to its feet and failed at an attempt to jump onto Cotton's knee.

Cotton grinned and scooped the little thing up, putting it on his knee. "There y'go. Pye's goin' to have one spoilt little bird if you keep that up, y'know. An' I've heard of sock lambs*, but I never heard of it in a chick."

*hand raised lambs that are used to being spoilt and cosseted by people.

The little chick hopped on the knee a couple of times and then settled itself down, blinking it's dark eyes slowly. It chirped in response to Cotton and almost looked as if it demanded to be hand fed. If anything, it echoed Gabriel's worry. The chick could turn out to be terribly spoiled and considering that Pye would've fed it before himself - which was a grand sacrifice - it wasn't something too far from actually happening.

The said rifleman was on his way back to camp, careful not to spill the water with which he had filled the kettle. It was pretty heavy, especially when he had to negotiate slippery ground.

"You oughtn't have anythin' more for now," Cotton said, gently running a finger over the soft fuzz on the chick's head. "Else you'll get all fat, an' that wouldn't be any good for anyone, that wouldn't." He offered it another couple of crumbs anyway and wondered what Pye would make of his feeding the younger lad's pet.