"Sure, have all you want," said Ellen Mae, surprising him. "We’re gonna break camp tomorrow. Can’t carry much water on the road." She poured him a generous paper-cup-ful of some acrid herbal soak she’d made from glossy green bush leaves. It sure as hell wasn’t tea, but it wasn’t as bad as certain Mexican soft drinks he’d sampled. "So we’ll use up the spare water now. Tonight we can all have a bath!"