“I need some time to think, Bessie.” He took off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. Why did Lenore write to him now? What did she expect from him?
“Some time? What do you mean?”
“I just wonder if this can ever work out. The deceit this began with is too much to overcome. Maybe it would be best if you went back to the ambulance.” He wanted to add that any repercussions would be on her head, but he bit back the words. He steeled himself for tears. Hardening his heart, he told himself she deserved a bit of suffering for all she had done.
At first her reaction was what he expected. Her gray eyes filled with tears, and she rose to her feet and stared at him. She started toward the door, then stopped and whirled around to face him, her hands on her slim hips as she glared at him. “I shall do no such thing, Jasper! How can you even ask such a thing? What would the soldiers think if you cast me off after two nights together? It would leave me open to unkind comments and even actions. I am your wife. You may not love me, but I must insist on the same respect you would give your sister or any female under your protection.”
His anger flared, but with it came a sense of shame. He nodded stiffly. “Very well. You may continue to abide in my tent for the time being. When we get to Arizona Territory, we shall discuss what to do with this so-called marriage.” He turned and walked out. He would wait until she was asleep before he went back.
§
Bessie’s eyes burned as she watched him go. What had changed? He had been so gentle and sweet today when they were riding. She just didn’t understand. Her high hopes had sunk into despair. Maybe it would be best to let him annul the marriage and just end this struggle. She shook her head. No, she couldn’t bear the shame of going back to Boston after being cast off. Out here, no one would think anything about it, but in Boston there would be titters and jokes. She wouldn’t be able to hold up her head.
She had been the one left sitting in a chair along the wall at coming-out parties and balls; she had overheard myriad comments from sour dowagers about how she was not the beauty her sister was; their parents had fussed over Lenore and relegated Bessie to a position more like that of the younger daughter instead of the elder. She had accepted all these snubs, but she would not sit in the shadows again. Now was the time to stand and fight.
She closed her eyes, then pressed her lips together and straightened her shoulders. Jasper was a decent man, and in her mind, he was her husband. He might want to find a loophole, but she did not. She would not make it easy for him to set her aside. Her throat tightened with panic, but she had to make it work. What could she do out here with no husband?
Her only hope was in showing him she was a proper wife, but she had little time to show him what kind of wife she could be. They would be to the new post in another two weeks. She doubted an attorney could be found there, so Jasper would have to write one back east. He would not hear back for some time. Her advantage was the shortage of women in the West. Perhaps that consideration would be enough to slow him down.
She pulled her nightgown on and crawled under the blanket. After she had cried for a few minutes, she told herself not to be a ninny. She needed a plan, not tears. But when she finally fell asleep, she was no closer to knowing how to prove to Jasper that he needed her.
§
The tenseness of the next few days began to drain Bessie’s drive and determination. Jasper avoided her as much as possible, and the times they were together, he was cool and remote. They had no more hair-brushing moments. As the days dragged by, she began to long for the wagon train to reach Fort Bowie. Maybe in their own home they would be able to find common ground again.
When they were almost to Arizona Territory, their last obstacle was a forty-foot gorge they had to cross by means of a rope and board bridge. The gorge fell so deep, Bessie couldn’t see the bottom. Another wagon rattled along the planks toward them, but instead of waiting until it passed, her driver lashed his horse and started across, too. There might be room for them to pass, but a sense of panic choked her, and she shouted to the driver. “Stop! I’m getting out.” She scrambled to the back of the ambulance and pushed back the flap.
The private looked back and shook his head. “I ain’t stoppin’, Missus. Hang tight.”
“You either stop, or I’ll jump out with it moving. What will my husband do if I’m hurt because you refused to stop?” Most likely he would be glad, but Bessie didn’t let herself think about that. She wanted out of this wagon.
Still grumbling, the private shrugged his shoulders. “Whoa.” He pulled on the reins and got down to help her out.
She didn’t wait for assistance but scrambled out the back. The bridge swayed in the wind, and she felt sick. She couldn’t look over the side, or she knew she would humiliate herself and Jasper.
As if the thought of him had summoned his presence, he rode up. “What’s going on? Why have you stopped?”
She answered before the private could. “I will walk across. It’s not safe with the other wagon coming.”
He looked toward the swaying bridge. “I think you might be right.” He nodded to the private. “Back up and wait until the way is clear. We’d rather get there late than have a disaster.”
The soldier shot Bessie a glare of contempt, then did as he was told.
A prospector who had been riding with the army detachment muttered an oath and swung his wagon past the ambulance. Jasper shouted at him to wait, but he ignored the warning. His mule trotted briskly toward the approaching wagon. Bessie watched in horror as the prospector came abreast of the other wagon, and the front wheel of one caught the rear wheel of the other. She shuddered at the squeal of metal grating against metal. The mule reared, and the next moment both the mule and wagon, along with the prospector, vanished over the edge. The mule and the man both screamed a bloodcurdling sound that brought bile to Bessie’s throat.
She seized the edge of the ambulance and hung on as her vision blurred and went dark. She mustn’t faint. Jasper grabbed her, and she clung to him with all her strength. Other soldiers rushed past them. The pounding of Jasper’s heart under her ear calmed her, and she finally pulled away. “I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“That could have been you,” he said gravely. “Thank God you stopped the ambulance and got out.”
One of the patients poked his head out the back of the ambulance. “You saved our lives, Ma’am.” His face was pale beneath his grizzled beard, and he stared at her with an expression approaching awe. “You must be pretty close to God.”
She smiled faintly. “Not close enough, Private.”
Jasper put an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you ride with me for awhile?”
“I’m not sure I can get on the horse,” she said honestly. She still felt weak and shaky.
“I’ll help you.”
Did he actually want to spend time with her? He had been avoiding her for days. “I’ll try,” she said.
He kept his arm around her as they found the remuda, and he picked out the same mare she had ridden before. He helped her mount, and she felt a bit better with the wind in her face and the warm sun on her arms. Vaulting into the saddle, he took the reins and led her horse across the bridge. She kept her eyes averted when they passed the spot where the prospector had gone over.
“Can we recover his body?”
Jasper shook his head. “Too dangerous.”
She fell silent. This was a harsh country where a man could fall to his death and his bones be left for the birds to pick. Did she even want to stay? One look at the man beside her convinced her she did. No matter how hard it was.
On the other side of the bridge, the terrain grew even more desolate. Jasper picked his way through prickly pear cactus and mesquite brush. When they neared a grove of gnarled creosote bushes, she heard a faint sound. “What is that?”
Jasper paused. “I didn’t hear anything.”
It came again. “There. Did you hear?”
He listened again.
“It’s the wind.”
“I don’t think so.” She turned her horse’s head and proceeded toward the bushes.
“Bessie, we need to move along. It’s nothing but the wind.”
It sounded like a baby. She knew that was impossible; the accident had made her skittish, but she had to know for sure. When she reached the bushes, she slid to the ground. She could see Jasper was impatient, and she sent him a coaxing smile. After a moment, he returned the smile and shrugged.
A dark bundle lay beneath the nearest bush. At first she had thought it was a rock, but it moved, and she rushed forward. A gaunt Indian woman lay nearly hidden beneath the brush. Was she dead? Bessie touched her and found her cold. Yes, she was dead. Poor woman. What had moved? She turned to call to Jasper, when she heard that mewling sound again. Crawling beneath the scrub, she moved the blanket and found a newborn child sucking on her fist.
She gasped, and Jasper was at her side at once.
He took her arm and started to move her out of the way, but she darted forward and picked up the baby. “Oh, poor thing!”
“Is she dead?
“The mother is. Can you see to a proper burial for her? I need to get this baby to the doctor.”
“I’ll call some of the men. I should check with our Indian scouts, too, and see if they have any idea who she is or what tribe she is from.”
Bessie sent him a grateful smile, then hurried to the ambulance with the baby.
The doctor raised his great, bushy eyebrows when she came rushing into the ambulance with a naked baby in her arms. “A baby! Yours?”
“Of course not,” she said impatiently. “I found her in the desert.”
He took the infant from Bessie and laid her on a cot. He pinched a fold of skin between his fingers. “She’s very dehydrated. She likely won’t live, Mrs. Mendenhall.”
“She will live,” Bessie said fiercely. “I’ll take care of her.”
The doctor shrugged. “What will she eat? We have no nursing woman here.”
Bessie thought fast. “The goat. I can feed her goat’s milk.”
He nodded grudgingly. “Might work if you can rig up some way of getting enough down her.”
For the next few days Bessie fought for the life of the tiny Indian girl. She dipped a rag in milk and fed the baby nearly around the clock. Jasper checked in every few hours, and Bessie thought he was getting attached to the tiny baby, too. Finally the doctor pronounced the infant out of danger.
What was she going to do with the baby? Bessie fiercely wanted to keep her, but she was almost afraid to ask Jasper. She wrapped the infant in a scrap of blanket and took her to their tent. Perhaps if Jasper became attached to her, he would suggest it.
She felt as though she hadn’t been in their tent in days, and she smiled at the curious sense of homecoming. Placing the baby on the cot, she took off her bonnet and washed her face. She’d scarcely taken time for herself since the baby’s discovery, but now she took down her hair. Before she could comb it and put it back up, Jasper came in.
A gentle expression came over his features when he saw her. Bessie wondered if he cared for her more than he would admit. It was probably just wishful thinking on her part.
“You’re back.” He glanced toward the cot and frowned. “What are we to do with her? I’m not sure what tribe she’s from, but I would suspect Navajo or Apache.”
“What do you think we should do?” Please say we can keep her. Her heart pounded as she waited for his answer.
His frown deepened. “It would be hard, if not impossible, to find her family. I don’t know if there are any orphanages in Phoenix or Tucson. I suppose we could try to locate one.”
Her eyes blurred with tears. She couldn’t give the baby up. She tried to speak but found she could not get any words out past the lump in her throat. She kept her head down, but Jasper put his fingertips on her chin and lifted her face.
“You want to keep her, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“What if we end this marriage? Will you take her back to Boston? Will people there accept her?”
His words were gentle, but she sensed the steely purpose behind them. He still wanted to get rid of her. Tears flooded her eyes again, and she jerked her chin away. He didn’t need to gloat over her pain. She turned her back to him. “Can’t we worry about that if and when it happens?”
He sighed. “You’ll get so attached to her, it will be impossible to give her up.”
“I already am.” She identified with the baby, for she had often felt like an unwanted waif herself. She wanted the child to feel the love and acceptance she had craved all her life.
Jasper was silent, and she risked a glance at him from under her lashes. He was still frowning, and her heart sank.
“Very well. But don’t blame me when you have to find her another adoptive family when you go back to Boston.”
She felt a mixture of pain and joy at his words. He still intended to send her back to Boston, but at least she would have the baby. She turned and focused the full force of her smile on him. He blinked at the radiance.
“She needs a name,” she said.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Ruth. She followed Naomi away from her own people the way this baby will follow us from her tribe.”
Jasper nodded. “Good choice of name, but we may regret this decision.”
“I won’t.”
He sighed. “I guess I’d better get started on a cradle for her. She’ll have to have somewhere to sleep.” He pushed open the flap and went outside.
Bessie sank onto the floor and stared at little Ruth in relief. “Mama will take care of you, Sweetheart. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She took the baby’s hand, and the tiny fingers closed around hers. Now the stakes for preserving the marriage were higher. She couldn’t let Ruth down.
By evening Jasper had knocked together a cradle for Ruth. He had even carved bunnies and her name on the headboard. Bessie hugged him when he brought it in. He looked like a little boy who had brought his mother a fistful of flowers, pleased and embarrassed at the same time. Ruth seemed to know it belonged to her, for she put her thumb in her mouth and went to sleep almost immediately once in the cradle.
The weather turned unbearably hot as they plunged deeper into the heart of Arizona Territory. Bessie and the baby were both lethargic from the heat. They stopped for a day in Phoenix, a small settlement of nearly fifty people. Bessie saw several other women and yearned to spend some time with them, but the army wagons moved forward before she could get the courage to approach them. The trail led south through rocky outcroppings and saguaro cactus.
“Fort Bowie ahead!” the scout at the head of the column shouted.
Bessie made sure Ruth was asleep in her cradle in the ambulance, and then she climbed out. She scanned the horizon for a look at her new home. All she saw was a small cluster of ramshackle adobe buildings surrounded by an adobe wall. Her heart sank. It was even worse than she had imagined.
Jasper grinned at her from near the front of the column. She could see his excitement even from a distance. She smiled back feebly. If he would smile at her like that every day, it would be adequate compensation for what she would have to endure.
The gates swung open, and the wagons rolled into the fort. Bessie jumped onto the ambulance as it came past and climbed back inside. When the wagon finally stopped, she picked Ruth up and went to see where they would live. She didn’t know if she was ready to see it, but there was no choice. They were here, and they must make the best of it.
Bessie stared in dismay. There were nearly as many wagons as there were buildings. The windows of most of the buildings were open holes and many of the roofs were gone. Dust and sand made a dismal backdrop to the tiny fort. She clutched Ruth and gazed around in numb horror.
She saw Jasper directing the soldiers as they unpacked and stowed the supplies they had brought. She shuddered and climbed back inside the ambulance. She could wait
to see their quarters. They were likely much worse than the wagon.
It was nearly dusk when Jasper finally came for them. Dust had crept into the lines of exhaustion around his mouth and nose. His uniform was covered with a fine coating of dust and sand, too. A wave of pity washed over Bessie when she saw him. She would not complain and make it worse.
“Ready? I haven’t had a chance to check out our quarters, but I’m heading there now. Most of the buildings will need to be rebuilt, but at least our place has a roof.”
Bessie picked Ruth up from her cradle, and Jasper lifted Bessie’s valise. He led her across the dusty ground to a small adobe building on the south end. There was no stoop and sand covered the threshold.
Jasper pushed the door open and stepped inside. Bessie followed him eagerly. As her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, her gaze traveled around the room. Their quarters consisted of three rooms. A tiny parlor led into a minuscule kitchen. Off the kitchen was a tiny bedroom. There was no furniture, and thick dust covered the rough plank floor. Her heart sank at the filthy condition of the home.
“We can’t sleep here tonight,” Jasper said.
Bessie heard the dismay in his voice and mustered every ounce of courage she possessed. “If you can find me a broom and some cleaning supplies, I’ll see what I can do.”
He stared at her. “You’ll clean it yourself?”
“It’s a typical chore for a wife,” she reminded him.
She saw admiration as he smiled at her. “I’ll be back with your supplies.”
When he was gone, she wanted to sink to the floor and weep in dismay. For all her brave words, she didn’t know how she could clean this in a week, let alone an hour. But she had to try. This was her first real opportunity to demonstrate to Jasper just what kind of wife she could be. Her entire future and that of Ruth’s hung in the balance.
six
When Jasper had been told the troops would rebuild the fort, he had expected to find more to work with than what was available. He knew speed was of the utmost importance; Cochise had begun a reign of terror along the Butterfield Trail nearly two years ago, and the nation had endured it as long as it intended. The army’s job was to provide protection to travelers and homesteaders in the area; but until they had somewhere to stay, that would have to wait. He regretted bringing Bessie and Ruth here. The crumbling stockade was little protection against the fearsome Apache tribe.