19//Mingan- June 3, 1843, Colorado 

Ten days ago, Jon Waites died. His sister, Angela, was now all alone. Delores was constantly comforting and helping her and they became close friends. The poor girl’s brother had died of an infection on a cut on his hand. He’d been helping chop wood for fires and busted his hand open accidentally. It was healing okay the first couple of days, but even though Delores was nursing him, it got infected. It was probably that his hands were always so dirty from driving and such. The cut had been wide and oozing yellow by the time he spiked a fever and by then, Delores didn’t know what to do. She’d said that only a real doctor could heal him completely and she was just a nurse. A couple hours after the fever, he died. 

Nôhtâwiy had helped another man dig his grave and Mr Driscoll carved a little wooden sign to put on top of it to remember him by. Everyone hugged Angela and gave their condolences, but the only people to actually helped her were Mrs Driscoll, Delores, nikâwiy and surprisingly, Mrs Clancy, who would just stare at me and my family instead of actually speaking, I hated how her eyes seemed to burn holes into me, especially when I was around Julian. Lydia and Rose talked to her and gave her books to read and would bring back random pretty things they found from our days out away from our parents. 

I don’t know what I would have done if Huritt or Nanook ever died, I probably would not speak to anyone for a year, hiding away from civilization so that no one would see me cry; I guess I never cried. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Jules frowned, I snapped back to him, I barely got any sleep since I seemed to get a rash on my leg and I couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much I wanted to. Jules got better, a lot better; he cried much less when getting aroused and wouldn’t be afraid to kiss me. 

“Of course, angel, I’m just tired, ignore me,” I mumbled, noticing two blurs appearing from the trees, both very giddy and occasionally slapping each other's bottoms, I chuckled at them becoming clear- Lydia and Rose. 

“Oh my- those two never rest,” Jules rolled his eyes, I just shot him a smirk, to which he rolled his eyes once more, even more dramatically. 

Jules reached to kiss me but I loudly cleared my throat when I saw Mrs Clancy approaching us angrily with Olive in her arms.

“Have you two seen my daughter?” she spat, looking me up and down,

“Who?” I acted dumb, leaning on the wheel on one of the wagons.

“Are Indians born with a hearing defect? I said-”

“Are the British born murderers?” I snapped back instantly, Mrs Clancy narrowed her eyes, readjusting Olive in her arms. Sheepishly, Rose tapped her mother on the shoulder, making Mrs Clancy break eye contact with me. I cracked my knuckles, feeling ready to stab someone but preferably not my friend’s mother. 

“Where in the absolute God’s name were you, look at your apron, all wrinkled, Rose do you have any idea…” Mrs Clancy practically dragged the poor girl by her ear back to their wagon. Lydia appeared from behind the wagon I was leaning on and jumped on my back, I yelped, my back hurting from tossing and turning all night. 

“How are you two?” she grinned, ruffling our hair, 

“Good, I guess,” Jules shrugged, placing his arm around Lydia.

“What about you, Mingan?”

“I’m tired,” I groaned before noticing Angela in Delores’ arms crying, walking over to the wagons. 

“He used to say ‘I’d rather die than be forgotten but live a fulfilling life’ when we ran from home, you know? He was such a good person,” she wailed. Lydia, Jules and I shared a look before coming up and comforting her, Delores gave me her since she assumed I was the strongest out of the three of us (which was true of course). 

“You all put up with my shit so much,” Angela choked, obviously drunk, I stroked her hair to comfort her, she had a lighter hue of hair than Jon, but it was still brown. She sounded very strange, it was her British accent; I had never heard one before Jon and Angela. 

“That’s what we’re here to do, Angela, it must be so much harder for you,” Lydia placed a hand on her back. 

“Thank you,” she slurred. I took a deep breath to get even a glint of energy to try and keep holding her up, but I ended up holding my breath for a solid twenty seconds, feeling far too awkward to exhale. I carried Angela to her wagon and placed her down on her blankets, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

Huritt had run off to sleep in the same wagon and Eliza Jane and Henry, he thought it was a great idea to join them since Lydia and Rose ran off to sleep in the woods and he thought Eliza Jane and Henry would be scared to sleep alone. I was amused at his desire to protect them, but I suppose I was tempted to stay alone with Jules.

“What will happen when we get to Oregon?” Jules questioned, I was snuggled up against his warm body, too exhausted to function.

“I dunno, we’ll die or something?” I mumbled sleepily, not really understanding what he said. He laughed at my sleepiness and gave me a kiss, which was an effective way to wake me up. I kissed him back, leaning over him and placing my hand on his neck, sometimes letting go of his lips for a breath and waiting for him to reconnect them. I crashed into the crook of his neck and fell asleep with his gentle hand stroking my hair. I smiled into his neck and thought of what he said. We’d never see each other again. Would we?