The men got up and put on the coats, admiring the woman’s handiwork while she helped them on with the haversacks. “I reckon the coats make the straps set different than before,” she said.
She rolled the blankets and the poncho and secured them over the packs with lengths of thong.
Tim said, “You’re spoiling us, ma’am.”
“Old Smoky won’t spoil you none, that’s sure.”
She looked them over and turned away. She put on her jacket and boots, took some mittens and a couple of mufflers from a backless old chair in a corner by the fire. “Take the mufflers,” she said. “Nate went larkin’ off when it was warm. He said the Yanks would fix him up with clothes.”
She hung a pair of stoppered gourds around her shoulder and a pouch and a little sack of meal. She picked up her musket and took the pistol from the table. “Redbeard, you take first turn with the pistol.”
Red said, “No, ma’am, you keep the Colt.”
“I got the musket. It’s notched already and I’ll notch it agin if I must. Take the pistol. It’s loaded and there’s a flask of powder and some extra balls at the top of Slim’s pack.”
Red put out his hand and took the revolver.
“I decided to spend the winter in town.” She looked up at Tim. “It was what you said about bein’ too proud that changed my mind. Nate used to say I was foolish proud sometimes.”