Plains of Promise (Wyoming Series Book 2)
“I just can’t stay inside another minute,” Sarah announced one day after sending Joel off to school. “Can we go for a picnic?”
Rand shoveled the last bite of flapjacks into his mouth. “I guess you could. The weather has been warm, but it won’t last long. You might as well enjoy it while you can. I’ll see about an escort. I need to repair some telegraph line the Indians cut, but I’ll send someone over. What time do you want to go?”
“About eleven. Could we go to the stream in the meadow?”
“Sure. Just don’t wander off.”
The girls took the laundry to Soapsuds Row, a line of tents at the edge of the fort where a couple of enlisted men lived with their wives, who acted as the fort laundresses. The women were visiting back east right now and the men did the laundry while they were gone. After delivering their laundry, they scrubbed the tiny quarters and packed a lunch.
Promptly at eleven, someone pounded on the door and shouted in a deep baritone. “Open the door, woman. Time’s a wasting!”
Emmie swung open the door and looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The man had a friendly, open face with a shock of auburn hair that fell down over his forehead from under his blue hat. His flowing mustache matched his hair and he was quite tall, for she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
“You must be Emmie. Every man in the fort is already in love with you.”
Emmie smiled in spite of her resolve to keep aloof from the soldiers. His grin was infectious. “They just haven’t seen any women in a while. Who are you?”
“Isaac Liddle at your service, ma’am.” He slapped the heels of his boots together and kissed her hand, then grinned again at her surprise.
She tried to place his soft accent. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re Rand’s best friend.”
Sarah joined her at the door. “I see you’ve met Isaac. You behave yourself, Isaac. I don’t want you scaring Emmie into leaving me.”
His voice took on an injured tone. “Now, Sarah, one look at my handsome mug and she’s sure to want to stay. Besides, I’m here to escort you two on your picnic. Every man in the fort clamored for the job, but I know how to get around your husband. All I had to do was promise to shine his boots for the next six months.”
The girls laughed as he took the picnic basket from Sarah. “Come right this way, ladies. Your steeds await you.”
The horse he selected for Emmie was a lovely buckskin with gentle eyes. “Molly’s a darling, aren’t you, girl?” Isaac patted the insistent nose the mare thrust into his hand. “Have you ridden much?”
“Not really, but I like horses. We had a pony when I was little. He was an old pinto and ornery.” She tentatively held out her palm and the mare gently snuffled her velvet nose against it.
“Well, Molly will be good for you. She’s gentle and sweet-natured.” He offered his linked hands. After a moment’s hesitation, Emmie put her foot in his hands, and he helped her up onto the sidesaddle. She adjusted her skirts and gathered up the reins as he helped Sarah. Her friend’s horse was a placid bay with a wide back. Rand had obviously instructed Isaac well.
Isaac led the way past the parade ground and the stables where four other soldiers joined them. As they crossed in front of the tepee village, Emmie was conscious of the black-eyed stares of the squaws and Indian children as they passed the Indian encampment. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of some concoction bubbling in the pot over the open fire they skirted, mingled with dung from the numerous dogs roaming the fort area. She still hadn’t been close enough to any Indians to get a good look at them. Sarah seemed to have a few friends in the group, for she waved and called to several Indian women.
The sun blazed down overhead in the brilliant blue canopy of sky. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the banner above them like lazy puffs of smoke. Emmie heard a bird cry out and looked up to see an eagle soar up into the brilliant haze above her. She felt almost as free herself. Oh, this west was a wonderful place, she thought. There didn’t seem to be the strictures civilization seemed to place on you out here. It didn’t feel as though someone was looking over your shoulder judging your actions constantly like back home. It was primitive, true, but she thought she was adjusting very quickly.
The meadow where they stopped was a sunny glade with a cold, clear stream running through it. The scent of sage was heavy in the air, and Isaac pointed out a prickly pear cactus for them to avoid stepping in as they dismounted and followed him to a shady spot under a cottonwood tree beside the stream.
“It’s lovely,” Emmie said as she spread a blanket on the mossy ground beside the stream.
“You’ll love it in the spring. There are bluebells and violets everywhere.” He straightened the other side of the blanket and sat down while she and Sarah opened the hamper of food. The four privates each took a separate spot in different directions and stood watch for hostile Indians. Sarah and Emmie took them a plate of food before settling down on the blanket with Isaac.
Emmie watched his face surreptitiously as they ate their lunch of cold sandwiches and baked beans. He really was a most attractive man, she decided. But she wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone. Not ever. And to be perfectly honest, he didn’t seem overly smitten with her, in spite of his flirtatious manner. It was probably how he treated all women, she concluded. Teasing and indulgent like an older brother, which was fine with her.
§
Emmie soon fell into the pattern of fort life, listening almost unconsciously for the trumpet to sound out the various calls. She didn’t need the little watch pinned to her bodice anymore. Her days were divided by reveille at 5:00 A.M., breakfast at 6:00, followed by stable call at 6:30, drill at 10:00 and 2:00, retreat at 6:00 P.M., tattoo at 8:30,and taps at 8:45. She loved to watch the boots and saddles call in the morning. At the order, the cavalry swung up into their saddles in unison, the sun dancing off their brass buttons and their sabers. Then they would ride out of the fort grounds onto the open plain to practice wheeling and charging imaginary foes. It was an exhilarating sight.
After she’d been there a month and was finally beginning to settle in and feel at home, Rand came bursting in with a big grin on his face and sat in a chair beside them.
“I received new orders today.”
Sarah stopped eating the dumplings made with dried apples and put her fork down. “Oh, no, Rand. Where? I don’t want to go anywhere else.”
His grin widened at the dread in her voice. “We’re going to Fort Phil Kearny.”
Sarah shrieked and jumped to throw her arms around him. He almost toppled backwards in his chair. “I get to see Amelia!” she cried as she hugged him exuberantly.
He grinned and sat the chair forward with a thump. “I thought you didn’t want to go,” he said with a chuckle.
Emmie watched with a pensive smile. If she could have a marriage like her friend, she might consider it, but there weren’t very many men like Rand Campbell around. She pushed away the stirring of envy. What made her think she even deserved such a fine man?
Emmie knew Amelia McCallister, of course. She was the daughter of Wabash’s only doctor. It was the talk of the whole town when Amelia married Jake and moved out west with him. Sarah spoke often of how much she missed her best friend, and Emmie couldn’t help a stab of jealousy. Would Sarah have time for her once Amelia was around?
“When do we leave?” Emmie asked.
“You’ve both got two days to pack.”
“Two days! You must be joking.”
“They wanted me to go tomorrow, but I talked the colonel into another day in deference to you ladies. And that’s quite a feat with the army. They don’t even officially recognize that the wives exist usually. In the army’s eyes you two are just camp followers like the ones across the river.”
Emmie colored at his oblique reference to the soiled doves on the other side of the Laramie River. Rand had tried unsuccessfully to get their place of business closed down, and it was a sore sp
ot with him. Would he put her in the same class as the prostitutes if he knew about her false marriage? She desperately hoped she’d never have to find out. Her resolve to tell Sarah the truth had faded as the days went by. She didn’t want to risk seeing her friend’s love and respect change to repugnance.
By working late both nights, they managed to get everything packed. Rand brought them empty pickle barrels and they packed most of their belongings in the pungent barrels, with hay packed around the breakables. Joel chattered the entire time about seeing his friend, Jimmy Carrington, again.
Both women were almost sick with excitement and nerves as they pulled out of the fort two days later. Emmie was curious to see something of the countryside. She’d already begun to chafe at the restrictions on her movements in the fort. In thirty-five days she’d only been out of the confines of the fort once on that picnic to the meadow.
They boarded the ambulance, a heavy wagon outfitted with a straw mattress and the canvas sides rolled up to let the breeze in. A canteen hung near the roof with the lid off to allow the water to cool in the breeze. Rand had rigged up a padded bench seat along each side for them to ride on, and the rest of their belongings were packed into every available inch of space. By the time they’d gone a mile, both women wished they had a horse to ride. The ambulance had no springs and they were jarred and thrown about with every pothole as they moved with the troop of nearly twenty men.
They stopped for lunch and the girls got down thankfully. Emmie drew deep breaths of sage-scented air as she bolted down the beans and bacon the cook presented. The bacon was tough so she ate around it.
“Can you bring the blanket and come with me?” Sarah whispered. “I wish there was such a thing as a portable privy.”
The girls hurried off a short distance on the far side of a scraggly cottonwood tree, and Emmie held the blanket up as a screen. Above their heads the branches swayed with the breeze, and Emmie caught a whiff of some sweetly scented autumn wildflower. The gurgle of the clear creek to their right muted the sounds of the army camp behind them.
“That’s one bad thing about being pregnant,” Sarah said. “You can’t wait very long. I don’t know how I’d manage without another woman along.” She hurriedly rearranged her skirts, then took her turn holding the blanket for Emmie.
“Hurry,” she said. “I think they’re about ready to go and I don’t think they saw us leave.”
By the time they started back, the ambulance was pulling away without them in it. They ran, shouting for the soldiers to stop. Rand saw them and halted the procession.
“Don’t ever go off like that again without telling me,” he said angrily. “We never know when we’re going to run into hostiles this far from the fort. I would think you’d learned your lesson after last time, Sarah.”
She flushed and tossed her head. “It didn’t turn out so bad. I made some new friends.”
“And almost got killed, and Jake, too.”
Sarah just compressed her lips as he wheeled and rode back to the front of the line.
“What’s he talking about?” Emmie was shocked at the ruckus their little necessary errand had caused.
Sarah sighed, then picked up the knitting she’d been working on before lunch. The little yellow booties she was making were half finished. “I went off by myself on a ride and Indians took me,” she admitted. “But they were Laramie Loafers and it wouldn’t have happened if your brother hadn’t put them up to it.” She stopped a moment, then sighed and went on. “They left me in a cabin for Ben, but I got away from him and some hostile Sioux found me. Little Wolverine was a young Sioux who respected Rand because of an earlier battle, and he protected me until Rand found me.” She shook her head and sighed again. “Jake was injured by a bear while they were out searching for me. So now, Rand keeps a close watch on me.”
Emmie could tell her friend was uncomfortable talking about Ben, but this was as good a time as any to clear the air. The entire time since she’d arrived, she knew they both had been avoiding the subject of her brother. “So Ben did follow you. I often wondered if that’s where he went.” She noticed Sarah’s downcast look. “I don’t have any illusions about my brother’s character, Sarah. I lived with him, remember?”
Sarah took a deep breath. “That’s not all, Emmie. There’s something I’ve put off telling you. I didn’t want to hurt you after you’d been through so much.”
“What is it?” Emmie asked after a long pause.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that Ben was killed in a fall from his horse. Labe told Rand.”
Emmie was silent. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Ben, but she cared about Labe. He’d been good to her in his clumsy way. “Is Labe all right?”
Sarah nodded. “He joined up with a group of miners passing through here a couple of months ago. They were headed up the Bozeman Trail to the goldfields in Montana.”
So much death. Everywhere she looked there was death, Emmie thought. First Monroe and now Ben. She wasn’t sure how she came to be there, but she suddenly found herself sobbing against Sarah’s shoulder. She didn’t know why she was crying. She’d never been close to Ben, but he was her older brother, and now that he was gone, she was even more alone in the world. She’d probably never see Labe again, either.
By evening the wind picked up and began to moan through overhanging rocks. Black thunderheads rolled in over the tops of the bluffs and jagged flashes of lightning lit the roiling undersides.
“Get the horses tied down,” Rand shouted after the supply train went into corral formation. He wheeled off on his horse, Ranger, shouting his instructions to the rest of the soldiers.
The wind struck with a fearful punch as Emmie struggled to unroll one side of the canvas covering for the ambulance while Sarah fought with the other side. Sharp needles of cold rain pelted them before they could get the bedding covered, and Emmie could barely see through her thick wet hair hanging across her face. Looming out of the driving rain, Rand dashed to secure the canvas on Sarah’s side. Emmie frantically pushed her wet hair from her eyes and fought the rope holding the canvas in place. She almost shrieked as strong hands gently pushed her out of the way and fastened the canvas down with deft, practiced movements.
“Isaac,” she gasped. “Where did you come from?”
He grinned, his blue eyes dancing with merriment. “I’ve been on ahead scouting. You didn’t think I would let a pretty gal like you get away, did you?”
She flushed. Was he making fun of her? She certainly didn’t feel very pretty right now with her hair plastered to her head and her dress covered with mud. And he always seemed to put her at a disadvantage.
Isaac didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment. He just patted the top of her head and strode off to help the rest of the men secure everything.
Emmie pulled her shawl around her protectively. He’d patted her like—like she was a dog or a child. Was that how he saw her? She pushed away the prick of hurt and climbed back into the ambulance.
The storm cleared quickly and the procession moved on. Emmie found her eyes straying more often than she liked to Isaac’s erect figure on the bay gelding. His burnished hair curled over his collar, and he was easy to pick out of the group. He seemed to have a kind and encouraging word for everyone. All the more reason for her not to believe him when he said she was beautiful. He was evidently one of those people who looked for the good in everyone. An admirable quality, she had to admit, but it made her more cautious.
“You ready to go back to Indiana?” Sarah asked when they took a short break in the middle of the afternoon.
“I thought about it,” Emmie admitted. “This wilderness is a fearful place. Even the storms are wilder.” Then she smiled. “But it is beautiful in a wild and savage way. I love the scent of sage in the wind and the deep, rich reds and browns of the earth. And I can’t wait to get a closer look at the mountains.”
They saw wildlife everywhere. Elk, deer, jackrabbit, and once a small herd of buffalo off in t
he distance. Emmie wanted to get a closer look at the famous beast, but they never came close enough to see well.
“That’s why the Indians are so set on keeping this area,” Sarah told her when she mentioned the abundant game. “And since the Montana gold mines opened up and miners keep traipsing through on the Bozeman Trail, the game is beginning to thin out. Red Cloud is said to be gathering a large war band up in the Powder River area. He’s promised a fight to the knife. Rand doesn’t know where it will all end. He sees the Indians’ point of view, but he knows we have to expand clear to the Pacific if this nation is going to thrive. We need the railroad completed and the telegraph to all cities. The Indians won’t stand by and see it happen without a fight.” She shivered. “It scares me when I think about it. Every time Rand goes out on detail, I’m terrified he won’t come back.”
Emmie hadn’t realized it was so dangerous. So far she hadn’t seen a single hostile Indian. It was hard to imagine that the problem was as severe as Sarah said.
Rand called a halt around six o’clock. After beating the brush for rattlesnakes, three men pitched a tepee-like structure called a Sibley tent for the ladies.
“What are you doing?” Emmie asked Rooster as he uncoiled a large horsehair rope.
“Snakes won’t cross a horsehair rope,” he said, laying it on the ground all around the tent and bedrolls. “Reckon they don’t like them hairs ticklin’ their bellies. Rattlers ain’t nothin’ to mess with and we don’t want to lose our only wimmenfolk. ’Course it’s late in the year fer snakes, but it’s so much warmer than usual, I don’t ’tend to take any chances.”
Emmie wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, but his words sounded comforting, so she and Sarah carried their clothes and blankets inside and tried to make the interior comfortable. When they came out of the tent, one of the men had gotten a blazing fire going. The aroma of stew made Emmie’s mouth water. She had hardly touched her lunch, but now she was famished. She ate two plates of the delicious stew and washed it down with the water in the battered tin cup Rooster gave her.