The twilight gave him enough light to see by. He wondered if the mother and her child would be able to find their people in the semi-darkness. Josie would need a lantern for sure.
Similarities between the little family he’d just seen, and his own kept him preoccupied. Plus, he was still vastly irritated by Douglas implying Rachel was interchangeable with any other woman in the world. Patrick bypassed the group, letting them chatter amongst themselves, and set the coffee pot on the chuckwagon’s tailgate.
“What’s the matter, sir?” Lambert asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Patrick turned toward him with a grin. “No—at least I hope they weren’t.” He shrugged. “Just a native woman with her child playing in the water.”
“Too bad you didn’t have your pistol,” Rogers quipped. “Hit the woman first, then the child.”
“Why not distract her by killing the child first?” another soldier offered.
“I reckon she’d be like any deer. You’d spook her, and she’d take off with it.” Rogers shrugged. “No sense in missing both shots.”
Patrick’s fingernails dug into his palm. “This discussion is over. I would hope, as members of one of the finest armies in the world, we are better men than those who would kill innocent women and children.”
An uncomfortable chuckle went through the group before Douglas said, “You’re talking about them like they’re people, sir.”
He stared at each one of them as something in his mind clicked. All this time, the natives out west had been a primitive inconvenience keeping decent people from claiming and working the land. But after hearing Douglas’ opinion, Patrick couldn’t agree. They were the interlopers, pushing a population from their homeland. “They are as much a people as we are. We will not kill or injure women, children, or the elderly under any circumstances. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” several men from around the fire muttered.
“Excuse me, I don’t think I heard any of you,” Patrick said louder.
“Yes, sir!” they hollered.
“Much better. Cowards shoot at the unarmed, and not one of us is a coward.” His anger fading to a dull roar, Patrick retrieved his journal and pencil. “Consider what I’ve said as an order. Carry on.”
He sat at the fire. The conversations gradually resumed their prior noise and bantering level. He stared at the blank journal page for several minutes. All he could think of was his soldiers executing the woman and her son in cold blood. He shivered and began to write the day’s events.
Chapter Seven
Isaac walked up to Rachel, his face as scowling as she felt. “So? What did the fort’s blacksmith say?”
“We are not his first priority.”
Rachel stomped her foot. “I wish I weren’t a lady. He’d get a piece of my mind over the delay.”
He walked past her and waited for her to fall in step with him before saying, “Understandable. I had a few choice words in my mind, too. Still, he’s right. He has troops to keep rolling on their patrols west. We’re not at the top of his list.”
She let a soldier pass in front of them. “I know, but a week? I want to get there before the first snowfall.”
“We weren’t going to be there so soon even with perfect wheels.”
“You’re right.” Rachel shook her head. “I suppose it could have been much worse. The wagon could have tipped, and we would have lost everything.” They stepped off the boardwalk when it ended at the corner of a building. “I’ll just have to adjust my plans.”
“We’ve made good time so far,” Isaac offered. “Bossy’s not sick. Neither one of us is, either. Remember the hotel in Cottonwood Falls? There have been some good things happen.”
She nodded as they left the fort’s perimeter for their campsite closer to the creek. “Our dinner there was the best. Too bad we didn’t stay in the hotel.” Rachel rushed in to add, “Saving money there means more to spend on our new home.”
“That’s the spirit.” They reached their wagon. “I’d like to see who’s riding up from Santa Fe. Ask about places hiring in or around town.”
“Go ahead. I have some mending to do, plus I’d like to read a little bit while we’re in one spot,” she said. “I’ll be safe enough here.” Isaac gave her a mock salute and headed back to the fort.
Rachel shivered when a stiff wind rolled across the land. Every day they lingered meant camping out in a snowstorm. At least she had enough yarn for both of them to have new socks. She climbed up into the wagon and pulled her wooden trunk to the tailgate. Her knitting lay on top, over her journal and trail guide.
Half-done socks in hand, she sat on the edge of the tailgate and began knitting. The first awe over the vastness of Kansas had worn off by Pawnee Rock. Isaac had climbed to the top despite the snakes. She shuddered and missed a loop with her needle. He’d been insane to risk being bitten for a view. They’d have mountains and sunsets in New Mexico without the rattlers killing them.
She wondered how far Patrick was behind them now. Had he climbed Pawnee Rock, too, or did he have more sense and stayed safely on the ground? He seemed like such a sensible man to her. Not that Isaac was stupid, but avoiding venomous snakes was her deciding factor for intelligence.
Rachel paused to stretch out the sock. The cuff wasn’t quite long enough for her brother. He liked socks up to his knees. Resuming, she wondered if the army gave Patrick his socks as a regular supply or if he needed to buy his own.
People traveling in the mountains would need warm gear. Hats, mittens, knitted gloves were all items she’d be able to make and sell. She smiled at the thought of owning her own needlework store. Who knew, she might send out bids to knit for the various forts in the area, maybe even including Fort Dodge. She’d have to measure, remeasure, and have him or any soldier try on her work lots of times.
“I don’t think I’ve ever caught my mother or sister smiling while they knitted.”
She glanced up in a hurry to find Patrick was standing in front of her. “Well, think of the devil, and he appears.” She stood, putting her knitting on the tailgate. “I didn’t even hear you walk up.”
“We’re trained to be stealthy, ma’am.”
“I see.” Her memory hadn’t done him justice. The man gave the word handsome a new meaning. Even so, he seemed a little tired and a little thinner than a couple of weeks ago. “How are you and your soldiers?”
“Doing better.” He leaned against the tailgate with her. “You know how it is when one person becomes sick and the rest follow.”
“Were you ill, too?”
“Yep. I’ll spare you the details except to say we all regained our appetites.”
“Oh.” She tried not to imagine how horrible a group like theirs must have been with no one in good health. “We haven’t had the same excitement. In fact, it’s been rather mundane.”
“Excluding our illness, we’ve been on the dull side, too. I’m not complaining, though.” He stared at her work for a couple of minutes before adding, “My day has become a lot more exciting in the past few moments.”
Rachel paused and looked at him. His eyes twinkled, their warm brown also warming her heart. “Be careful what you wish for concerning excitement, Captain Sinclair. I’m sure there are natives out there who’d love to liven up your journey with an arrow or two.”
He laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “I’m sure there are, but as long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine.”
She leaned closer to him with a grin. “You’re such a sweet talker.”
“Only to you.”
Isaac walked up to them before she could reply. “I can’t leave you alone without some mangy ol’ soldier trying to court you, can I?”
Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me? Mangy?”
He laughed, moving to shake Patrick’s hand. “A little around the edges, sir. How are you?”
Taking his hand, Patrick grinned. “Doing well. Lagging behind our schedule, but it’s to be expected. I came ov
er to tell Miss Stewart about rumors concerning Fort Dodge. Sounds to me like they need people to work there.”
Isaac grinned. “So does everyone. The war set back a lot of people and their families. I don’t mind making a living helping others.”
Rachel put her knitting back in the trunk while asking, “What led you to decide on the dry route to Dodge?”
“We have water containers, and I wanted to make up for lost time.”
She shook her head. “Our pickle jar wasn’t enough for the three of us.”
“Bossy’s a heavy drinker,” Isaac interjected.
“As are you,” Rachel teased. “But when our wheel began falling apart, we had to backtrack and come here.”
Patrick frowned. “And that’s been how long?”
“Four days.”
His frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. “Are you having one built from scratch?”
She looked at Isaac to explain. “No, the outside metal band began splitting and broke apart as we rolled up to the fort.”
Her brother continued, “The blacksmith said it’s a simple fix he doesn’t have time to do.”
“I see. Has he given you an estimate on how long it will take?”
Isaac shrugged. “He said he can’t commit to anything.”
“All right.” He glanced at the row of stores before turning back to her. “I have an errand. Would you two care to have supper with us this evening? We have plenty, more than we need.”
“I’d like that, yes.” Ignoring her stomach’s flutter of excitement, she turned to her brother. “Isaac?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Good.” Patrick grinned from ear to ear. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She watched him walk away and toward the fort. Something about him left her heart racing and her knees weak.
Isaac leaned over to her. “He’s just making up an excuse to spend the evening with you.”
“I don’t mind. He can use any reason he’d like to see me again.”
He groaned. “Excuse me while I go retch from all this sweetness you’re dishing out to the rest of us.”
“Retch away, dear brother.” She laughed at his resulting sick expression and hopped up to sit on their wagon’s tailgate. “Meanwhile, I’ll finish the cuff on your sock.” Rachel resumed her work and listened to Isaac gossip about various people at the fort. She knew a few of the people he referenced. Getting out and making friends was good for him. She’d worried about his isolation and figured he needed more people around him than just her.
“Looks like your puppy dog is back.”
“Hmm?” She didn’t recall any dogs and glanced up to see Patrick approaching them. “Be nice.” After he sighed, she smacked his leg. “Seriously. He’s a good man.”
“The smithy says your wheel will be ready as soon as the new metal cools. You’ll be able to leave tomorrow morning when we do.” He looked at Isaac. “Will you need help?”
“Rachel and I removed the broken wheel. We can reattach the fixed one.”
Patrick’s lips thinned. “A couple of my men will be over to help you as soon as the wheel’s ready.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not necessary. She and I did the job just fine without you and your soldiers. We’ll also be good once you leave.”
The captain’s chin lifted as if struck. Rachel gripped the sock in her hand. She’d faced angry customers while at Miss Ellie’s. But now? She didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s fuss. “Please don’t bother sending anyone over, Captain.” She hopped up, putting the sock behind her. “You’ve done more than enough to help us.”
His stern expression softened when he looked at her. “I promise it’s no bother for my men to help a fine lady like you.”
Crossing his arms, Isaac added, “And it helps your ulterior motive.”
Patrick stared at the other man for a few seconds. “You’re right. I do have an ulterior motive concerning you and your sister. We’re going in the same direction. There’s two of you, a contingent of us, and hostiles lined up between here and there. My goal is to keep you safe. Even if it’s against your will.”
He turned on his heel and left with Rachel staring after him. Isaac spit on the ground. “Uppity, isn’t he? His type is all the same, ordering us around like we can’t fend for ourselves.”
Rachel bit her lip to keep from arguing with her mercurial brother. Patrick’s concern warmed her heart. Even if his care was only because of duty, she liked his consideration for their well-being. “I’d still like to have dinner with him and the soldiers. I’m tired of my own cooking.”
“Of course, we’ll go. A free meal is a free meal.” He nodded toward the fort. “Would you look at that. Being an officer does have its privileges.”
She watched as a couple of soldiers, younger than her, rolled their wagon wheel over to them. “I’ll say. Don’t start complaining, because this really is a favor Captain Sinclair didn’t have to do.”
Isaac just grumbled under his breath as they approached. Rachel wanted to get out of having to help and be the refined lady Patrick said she was. “I’d like to clean up before we eat.”
“So go,” he replied as the men came up.
Rachel nodded a greeting and hurried to her trunk to take out her favorite soap. On a whim, she grabbed a small blanket and set out her Sunday dress. She’d like to be pretty for dinner no matter what day it happened to be.
As soon as she hopped down, the men began their work. She went to the Pawnee River and placed the small blanket and soap on the bank. After kicking off her shoes, she picked her way through the brush to the water. Rachel made a mental note to make new clothes for herself and Isaac.
Her best dress was a little old. The hem didn’t entirely cover her ankles. The cloth also hung from her slender frame since she’d been heavier before the war. Still, the cream color brought out the blue of her eyes and the golden parts of her hair.
She debated on not washing her hair before deciding to go ahead. This close to the fort meant she’d have to bathe while dressed. Rachel didn’t mind. She’d not had a decent bath since Weston. Santa Fe and a large tub of warmish water would be heavenly. She daydreamed about getting clean in her own bedroom while scrubbing her scalp with the rose-scented soap.
Rachel rinsed the suds from her hair and face in the now-muddy water. The river didn’t flow enough to provide clear water, another reason to not like settling around Fort Larned. The prairie might be vast and beautiful, but she dreamed of blue mountains and green valleys in a land of warm sunshine.
Her hair and face squeaky clean, Rachel climbed the bank and grabbed her shoes to carry. She wrapped the small blanket around her hair before setting off toward the wagon. The wet dress clung to her, so she crossed her arms. No one else was around her as she hurried to their camp. The new wheel was in place and her brother gone, so she climbed up into the wagon with some effort. “Darn skirts,” she muttered.
Rachel pulled up the tailgate and closed the holes in the canvas. Soon, she wore her best clothes and had her work dress hung over the seat to dry. She took down the covers to let the breeze keep the wagon cooler. She let down the tailgate and sat to comb her hair with her mother’s silver comb. The strands only went to a little way below her shoulders. Before the war, she’d let her hair go to her waist. She sighed. Maybe one day when she had the time to care for long hair, she’d stop trimming her locks.
Rachel glanced up to see Patrick staring at her. She stopped combing in mid-movement. He wore a hungry expression she’d felt when seeing him nearby. Patrick took a couple of steps forward. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“You’re not. Not at all.” She finished her combing and smiled. “I thought I’d dress for dinner since it’s been so long since I’ve had an invitation.”
The hungry look never left his face. “You always have an invitation, Rachel. Whenever, wherever, however, you desire.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. He stared at h
er in the same way she felt for him. “The same goes for you, too. You’re welcome anywhere at any time.”
His gaze swept from her damp and curling hair to her bare feet. He smiled when seeing her toes. “I’m glad to hear that. I suppose the men fixed your wheel, or you’d be sitting sideways by now.”
She chuckled. “Yes, they did. Thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure.” He tipped his hat. “I look forward to your company tonight.”
“I look forward to yours as well.”
He grinned before going to the fixed wheel. Seemingly satisfied, he tipped his hat again and went back to the fort.
She watched as he walked away. His appearance always caught her eye. The man was handsome and everything she’d ever wanted in a husband. He’d make any woman look twice, and she loved how he cared for her and even tolerated Isaac.
Her brother might complain, but it was nice to have extra help after so long with merely her and her mother. She’d spent several months alone before Isaac had come home from the war. Having the room above the shop had been nice, but lonely. Patrick disappeared among the crowd of soldiers milling around, and she missed him already. She might not need Patrick, but she certainly wanted him.
While she combed and daydreamed, Isaac walked up to their wagon, talking with a friend he’d made. The man saw her and stopped mid-sentence with his mouth hanging open. Her brother turned to her and frowned. “Your good dress for a campfire meal? Where do you think you are?”
“I think I’m in the middle of the wilderness and waiting for my working dress to dry.” She hopped off of the tailgate, bare feet on the ground. “You might be a little friendlier with bathing yourself.”
As the other man laughed, he shrugged and said, “Sure, maybe later.”
Rachel frowned as he walked off. Really, his sour attitude irritated her sometimes. Their wheel was fixed, they’d have a military escort tomorrow, and a free dinner tonight. The way she saw it, Isaac had no reason to complain. She searched for and found the knitting. If she worked hard, she’d have this sock finished before dinner.
Santa Fe Woman Page 5