By: Heidi L. Lane
“Winnie, it’s time ta get ready for bed,” Vin said walking over to where the little girl was playing with her abacus.
“Is it Saturday, Papa?” Winnie asked putting her hands on his knees and looking up at him.
“Yes, I reckon it is,” Vin said thoughtfully.
“Mama al’ays said Saterday’s bath night,” Winnie pointed out.
“Oh,” Vin said. He frowned a little and cocking his head, said, “I guess we’ll go over to the bathhouse then.”
“I need ta get my nightgown an’ moccasins,” Winnie said glancing over towards the wagon.
“Alright,” Vin said, taking her hand. They returned to the wagon, collected all the things they’d need for her bath and headed towards the bathhouse.
**
Somewhat later, as Buck was getting ready for a night on the town with a certain someone, he decided he would head for the bathhouse to clean up. Walking by a curtained off area he heard childish squeals of laughter and a considerable amount of splashing. Hearing a familiar voice, he peered in and grinned broadly. There stood Vin Tanner, eyes squinted nearly shut, hands held out before him, trying to shield himself from the water that Winnie was splashing out of the tub and onto the floor. She had succeeded in giving Vin a thorough soaking and was well on her way to soaking everything else in the immediate area.
“Winifred Amelia Crafter Tanner!” Vin shouted, near his breaking point. The child stopped splashing and glanced up at her father. “What d’ya think you’re doin’?” he asked after taking a calming breath.
“Takin’ a bath, Papa.”
“An’ soakin’ me an’ everythin’ else in the meantime. Stop splashin’, please an’ let me wash your hair.”
“Careful not to get any soap in her eyes,” Buck advised.
Vin nodded in agreement, then spun around as he realized he wasn’t alone. Turning an interesting shade of red he asked, “Buck, what’re you doin’ here?”
“Watching you. The look on your face is priceless, you know.”
Vin sighed and shook his head, “Shu-Be quiet, Buck,” he said, turning back to wash Winnie’s hair. Buck grinned and went on about his business. Vin paid attention to working the soap through Winnie’s curls, and then carefully rinsed it out. He smiled at his daughter, who smiled back and grabbed up a towel to dry her with. He slung the towel over his arm and helped Winnie out of the tub. First he wrapped her in one towel; then he dried her hair with a second. Finally he dried her off with the first towel, during which she giggled as he tickled her.
After he got her dressed in her nightclothes, she looked at her father and said, “We have to comb these,” indicating her curls, now damp and tangled from the bath.
“Alright,” Vin said, taking her hand to lead her over to the porch of the jail. Once they got there he picked her up and sat her on his lap so he could comb her hair. Though he combed as gently as he could, Vin could feel his daughter wince every time he tried to pull the comb through her tangled curls. He finally stopped after encountering a particularly nasty snag and pulling hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Snuggling her close he said, “Sorry, Darlin’. I’m not so good at combing little girl’s hair yet.”
“Maybe we should get help,” she lisped in reply.
“Good idea,” Vin said, standing up and lifting her into his arms in one smooth motion. He walked over to the saloon, where he knew he’d find the other peacekeepers. “Howdy,” he called as he crossed the threshold. “We got a little problem. Winnie’s hair needs combin’ an’ I ain’ – I’m not so very good at that yet.”
“Don’t look at me, Cowboy,” Chris said, “My son’s hair was straight and a lot shorter than hers.” Most of the other peacekeepers shrugged and shook their heads, indicating that they too had no idea how to go about untangling the curls on the little girl’s head.
Ezra sighed and held out his arms, “I have some small experience with the hair of little girls.” Vin smiled gratefully and set Winnie in his lap.
Handing Ezra the comb, he asked, “Where’d you learn how ta comb little girls’ hair?”
“I had one. It’s a long story… a long time ago,” the gambler replied, gently working at the edged of Winnie’s curls. Vin watched the procedure, trying to learn by example. Soon, with no more tears from Winnie, the process was complete and Ezra began to braid her hair into pigtails.
Vin smiled and glanced at Chris, “She’s almost asleep,” he pointed out. Looking over to find Ezra had completed the task he had volunteered for, he continued, “Time for bed, Winifred.”
“That rhymes,” the little girl said sleepily.
Vin nodded and said, “I know. I tried ta rhyme.” Smiling his thanks at Ezra he picked up his daughter and headed out into the night. As he was leaving, Vin noticed Ezra also retreated upstairs to his room.
“Papa?” Winnie asked, as they reached the wagon.
“Yes, Darlin’?”
“When did Mister Ezra have children? What happened to them?”
“I don’t know; an’ I doubt he’d ever tell us,” Vin replied, as he pulled her blankets back one-handed.
“Why?”
“‘Cause Mister Ezra’s a real private kinda man. G’night angel,” he said setting her on her cot and covering her with a blanket. Vin sat back on his cot and wondered if Ezra would be willing to comb Winnie’s hair come morning. Chuckling silently he went out to watch the night settle over the town.
End
“Night, Papa,” Winnie replied as she went to sleep.