" Lice?" Her tone was a hoarse, mortified whisper. "Are you sure?" Leli, what's wrong? I was just teasing about it being worse than fleas. Lice aren't...a big deal." Sierra, I ... feel very vain, saying this, but ... I don't want to shave my head. I think I'd look terrible bald."I cracked up, reaching out to grab her hand in apology. "Is that what's got you worried? Oh, dear. No, you won't have to shave your head. Don't worry. We can fix this. It'd be easier if I could get some medicine from. He, however, removed his shaft from her and grabbed onto a wad of her hair. From there, he swung her around to the bunk and ordered her to place her hands on the horizontal beam of the top bed. She braced herself in suspicion to what he wanted. He ran his hand down her back and squeezed her right cheek hard, letting her wiggle her hips to try and escape his rough hands. "Hmm. There have been a many things I've been meaning to do, and first it's been to punish the fuck out of this. Even Jen had been there and Jethro had tipped his bottle of beer at her. Even now, she sat there at the gravesite in the second row, behind the team, her eyes red rimmed, her lip trembling.The priest was saying something profound, but he was beyond listening, didn't really care. It had all blurred together anyway, the speeches, the remembrances from the people who had barely known the dead guy. The ones from the team and the director had actually meant something. The letters from the president,. “And the women?”“Eliza I wed. Why, you want to wed that squaw?”“Hah, don’t need to wed her formally, like, just to bed her, do I?” The man glanced around as though about to confide something. “Only there’s this maid down on Rivit’s Farm, like, I have an understanding with, is all,” the man trailed off, perhaps suddenly feeling uncomfortable when he reminded himself of home and his fiancee.“Yeah, just share her around for all I care; bloody Indians!” Simon whispered. In the silence of the camp.