“I have married myself a wily woman.” Pa came up beside her and slid an arm around her. “Tell me how we’re gonna set a booby trap for this guy from inside our jail cell.”
“First, we need Beth’s doctor’s bag.” Ma looked at Pa.
“I got the feeling the soldiers who are serving under the lieutenant aren’t real happy with him.” Pa turned toward the door.
“One of them offered to help me escape,” Alex said. “Then do a real bad job of hunting for me until the colonel gets back. So, I’d say you’re right about that.”
“Really, escape?” Beth asked. “But then you’d be a wanted man for something new.”
“Yeah, that’s all I need.” Alex shook his head.
“Besides putting any soldier who helped you at risk,” Sophie added.
“I had the same thought, which is why I didn’t tell him I’d do it.”
“Well, if that disgruntled soldier will help you escape, then he ought to be willing to bring Beth’s bag.” Ma quirked a smile. “And he’d probably let me and my poor mistreated daughter out of here and allow us to help the colonel’s wife cook supper.”
Alex saw matching looks of disgust to think of the food they’d been eating. “It sounded like she might be fired before supper.”
“No, I met her in the hall, when we were being taken out, and talked to her for a minute. She’s an excellent cook. Or so she says. She apologized for the food we’ve gotten. The man escorting us to the jail agreed. He said we got the wrong meal. Leftovers from a meal she’d prepared strictly for the lieutenant. Since he’s the only one who doesn’t come in to eat, instead insisting a meal be delivered to him, they dipped ours out of the same pot as his.”
“I saw you whispering to her,” Clay said. “And the soldier said something about the food. Why’s she cooking bad on purpose?”
“Lieutenant Deuel growled at her over a dirty fork the first day after her husband left. She’s been torturing him with dreadful food ever since.”
Beth smiled. Alex would have, too, if he wasn’t facing a firing squad at dawn.
“And now you’re going to help her cook for that arrogant little pup to try and cheer him up?” Clay arched a brow at his wife.
“No, I’m thinking of what Beth said when Laurie handed her Dover’s Powder, when Alex was ready to cut Sally’s throat.”
There was an extended silence. Alex could barely remember operating on Sally.
Clay broke the silence. “That is a sneaky thing to do, Sophie McClellen.” He didn’t sound that upset, and the smile on his face took all the bite out of his words.
“I know, Clay. I’m so ashamed of myself I can barely stand my own company.” Sophie sounded like an extremely repentant Southern belle. Beth knew her ma was neither Southern nor a belle, and she didn’t have a repentant bone in her body, at least not about this.
Clay smiled. “So, what can I do to help?”
“You can’t give him Dover’s Powder. That’ll make him sick as a dog.” Alex shouldn’t have bothered to say that out loud, since that was obviously the whole point. But he was a doctor. He’d sworn an oath to do no harm.
Still, it wasn’t as if the lieutenant would be sick all that long.
“If we’re lucky.” Sophie gave Alex a fond—if slightly evil—smile. “Then you, the only doctor for miles around, will jump in and save his worthless hide.”
“Hey, I’m a doctor, too,” Beth protested.
Sophie glared at Beth.
Who immediately figured out what her ma wanted. “Except tomorrow I’m going to be a helpless little female, one who couldn’t hold her own in a pillow fight, let alone a gunfight, and who would faint dead away if asked to tend the tiniest scratch.” Beth felt a little Southern belle-ish herself.
Sophie nodded.
“I can’t save him from Dover’s Powder.” Alex wondered at his new mother-in-law. “He’s just gotta throw it all up.”
“When I was growing up, there was a neighbor lady who called herself an old-timey healer. She did a fair job, too. I remember her bringing us a cure every time we got a bad cold.”
“There’s no cure for a cold.” Alex crossed his arms, impatient with quack doctors.
Sophie moved closer to the bars. “It worked every time.”
“What did she give you?” Alex felt his pulse speed up. Had someone really found a cure for the common cold? It would soothe the ills of thousands of people. It would—
“She’d leave this nasty-tasting, gluey paste, and we’d take it faithfully three times a day. She also ordered us to rest and stay warm and drink plenty of fluids. And we’d be well in a week or ten days.”
Alex coughed then laughed. It felt good considering the dire situation.
Sophie’s smile got a bit darker. “No one says your cure will be instantaneous. And while you’re curing him, he’ll be so busy casting up my perfectly tasty dinner, he’ll be too busy to issue any execution orders at sunrise.”
“He might even decide he owes you his life.” Clay ran his hand down Sophie’s back.
Alex went to the window of his cell—which he noticed at that moment was standing slightly open. There were bars, but a heavy key was set into the lock.
He caught the eye of the soldier who withdrew his hand from the key quickly and turned to look away as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.
“I’m not escaping.” Alex pushed the window wider so he could talk with the soldier.
“Didn’t say you were, sir.” The recruit tried to look innocent.
“You can take the key back now.”
“What key?” the man asked, looking straight at the key.
“But if you wanted to save my family a lot of grief, you could let my wife and her ma out of here. They’d be willing to help with the cooking.”
The young man furrowed his brow for a minute. Then his expression cleared. “They want to cook for the lieutenant just like the colonel’s wife does, huh?”
“I didn’t say any such thing.”
The soldier grinned, took the key out of the bars, still standing open, and quickly came around to enter the jail. “I think I’d be within my rights to … assign these two ladies to a … a … work detail. Give ’em hard labor to punish them for their crimes.”
“Quite right,” Sophie said. “And if it’s no trouble, we’d appreciate stopping by our rooms. We have need of my son’s doctor’s bag, too.”
“Why, no trouble at all, Miz McClellen.” The soldier turned the key in Alex’s cell door to let Beth out. He then turned to the cell holding Sophie and Clay. The young man didn’t even pretend to relock either door. He hung the key on the wall in plain sight of his prisoners, too.
Alex rolled his eyes.
“I’d be glad to let you pick up that bag, ma’am. Is there anything else you’d like?”
“Well, you could tell us exactly what the lieutenant said to the colonel’s wife to inspire the meals we’ve eaten since we arrived at the fort.” Sophie left the room, with the eager soldier at her side.
Beth turned back, looked at the jail doors swung wide, shook her head, and followed after her mother.
Thirty – three
Not so much, Ma.”
She watched her mother pour the Dover’s Powder into the stew the colonel’s wife had concocted for the lieutenant. Ma mercifully only treated Deuel’s food, sparing the rest of the camp.
“Now, lassie, we don’t want to give him too little either. I’d be after usin’ a heavy hand.” Colonel McGarritt’s wife had also proved to be an eager co-conspirator. “Why, there’s opium in that, you say? He’ll need to be ridding his stomach of the vile stuff.”
Beth was utterly unsurprised at the woman’s opinion. She’d done nothing but rail against Lieutenant Deuel since she and her ma had come in. Plus the whole idea of cooking swill for the lieutenant revealed a cruel streak. Not that Beth didn’t agree with the woman.
“I still don’t see why we had to waste good food on that’n.” Paula McGarri
tt had proved to be a kindred spirit. “Waste of good meat it is.”
“He’ll be more likely to eat it. He didn’t finish his dinner.” Sophie looked up from her witch’s brew and smiled. “I reckon your feelings were hurt by that.”
Paula started laughing. Beth was very glad the woman wasn’t mad at her.
They stirred the powder in, and Paula called out to the waiting soldier, “Take the lieutenant his food.”
Beth insisted on carrying the food in to the lieutenant, feeling that, since she was breaking her oath as a doctor, not that she’d been allowed to take it but in her heart she’d embraced her healing vows, then she ought to face up to the bad feelings that might come of this.
Sophie accompanied her.
“What are you two doing out of your cells?”
“We got put on work detail, Lieutenant Deuel.” Ma acted put upon, like she’d been chiseling hard rock all day.
“Hmph.” Deuel sniffed. “Well done. I’ll have to remember to congratulate my jailer.”
Then he saw the food and his eyes widened and he smiled. “Well done indeed.” He took his first bite with gusto.
Beth’s heart beat a little too hard.
“By the way, ladies, I apologize for my actions before.” He plowed through the meal as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Which was very possible.
“Apologize?” Beth quit watching the food go down his gullet. “What for?”
“Why, for losing my temper with your husband of course, Mrs. Buchanan. I was so furious about his possibly neglecting my brother.”
Half the plate was empty now, and the lieutenant showed no signs of slowing down. How much of that had Ma poured in?
“I, of course, have no intention of having him shot at dawn.”
Ma’s hand shot out and she stopped the fork before the lieutenant swallowed another bite.
“Beth, I see a … uh … a fly in the lieutenant’s plate.” Ma grabbed the plate, thrust it at Beth, and said, “Get some fresh food.”
“No.” The lieutenant made a grab for the plate. “I saw no fly. It’s fine. It’s delicious. In fact, you can have the job of cooking from now until we sort this business out with the doctor. And naturally none of you will be charged with a crime. You brought the man in. In fact, I suspect you’ll be given the reward. Dr. Buchanan will have to sit through a regular military court and we’ll need to wait until the colonel comes back.”
The lieutenant paused in his efforts to retrieve his plate. His hands went to his stomach. “How strange. I may have—” The man stood from his place at his desk and rounded it.
Beth had a pretty good idea where he was heading.
“Excuse me, ladies. I believe I ate my food a bit too fast.” He bolted from the room, holding one hand over his mouth and the other clutching his midsection.
“You follow him,” Ma ordered Beth. “I’ll go get the doctor.”
Ma rushed out, then when Beth followed only steps behind, they heard the sound of retching from around the corner of the building.
“That stuff couldn’t kill him, could it?” Ma asked.
A terrible groan of agony rang in the settling dusk.
Beth shook her head. “No. Impossible.”
“Help. I’m dying!” Deuel nearly screamed. Then the retching started again.
Ma shouted, “My son is a doctor. He’ll save you.” She turned to look at Beth and shrugged her shoulders and whispered, “Well, he will.”
Ma could have shouted her little comment to Beth since the lieutenant was so loud a herd of rampaging buffalo could storm by and no one would notice over the ruckus Deuel was causing.
“Just go get Alex.”
Beth ran in the direction of the lieutenant, but she was careful to round the corner cautiously. No sense getting too close to a vomiting man with a full stomach.
Alex spent the next week treating so many small complaints at the fort that he about decided the cavalry was comprised exclusively of a pack of whiners. Either that or the soldiers all wanted a peek at Lieutenant Deuel lying prostrate in bed.
But the lieutenant was up and about finally, and Colonel McGarritt summoned Alex to his office. It was time to face justice. Dreading it, but also glad it was over, Alex washed up from sewing up Mrs. McGarritt’s thumb. She’d cut it slicing potatoes.
“Let me help straighten your collar.” Beth fussed over him and the colonel’s wife did her share of advising, too. She’d taken an immense liking to the whole McClellen/Buchanan clan since they’d pulled her into their Dover’s Powder conspiracy.
Mrs. McGarritt went ahead to summon Sophie and Clay. Alex and Beth met them at the door to the colonel’s office. The four of them walked in, in time to hear Cletus Slaughter haranguing Colonel McGarritt with his charges against Alex and his family.
“Sit down, Mr. Slaughter. It’s best you know that every word out of your mouth makes me more determined to find an excuse to lock you up.”
Growling like a whipped dog, Cletus settled into his chair on the far left. The setup was the same as before, but the chairs were simply shoved into a line. If one chair was at an angle or a few inches farther back, no one seemed to notice or care.
“Hello, major.” The colonel stood and extended a hand to Clay. The man’s full head of white hair surrounded a weathered face with lines that turned up when he smiled. “I was with McCook’s Army of Ohio at the Battle of Shiloh. Doubt you remember. I was a sergeant back then.”
“I was with Grant. You and Buell’s men saved us from a terrible defeat.” Clay shook the man’s hand with real warmth, and Alex wondered how anyone could come away from war as steady as his father-in-law. Hopefully, McGarritt was just as steady.
Give me strength, Lord.
Alex prayed as he sat down, and he happened to glance at Beth and see her lips move in the same prayer he’d just sent heavenward.
She was thinking the same thing and her eyes flashed with love and encouragement and strength.
“Now, I’ve been somewhat apprised of the situation, gentlemen, through the report of Lieutenant Deuel. And … uh … well, my wife told me her version. The two stories are quite different.” Colonel McGarritt sat down and folded his hands together on papers on his desk. He turned blue, piercing eyes to Alex.
Swallowing hard, Alex knew that from this man he would get fair treatment and justice. But justice might be very harsh.
“You were at the siege by Camp Supply and the Battle of Buffalo Wallow and Palo Duro?”
Alex nodded. “Yes, I ran. In the middle of the fighting at Palo Duro, I—I just snapped. I ran. I deserted, sir. I admit it and will take whatever punishment you deem necessary.”
“But Palo Duro was the end of it. There were no more battles after that. And you’d put in your time and then some. Stayed on because of the need, I see from your records.”
“You have my military records?” Alex frowned. “I didn’t serve here.”
“No, but my wife wired Fort Dodge and they sent your records here. They arrived a day or two ago. If you’d have just ridden back to the fort, they’d have probably mustered you out on the spot. Or soon after.”
Alex didn’t understand what that had to do with it. “I didn’t ride back. That’s the whole point.”
Colonel McGarritt turned to Slaughter. “And you were going to bring him in dead, is that right? Did you even attempt to arrest him? He’s obviously shown a willingness to cooperate.”
With a snort of disgust, Slaughter said, “Nothin’ on that poster that finds any fault with the dead part of ‘dead or alive’.”
“Well, there’s something pure wrong with you shooting two law-abiding citizens from cover. You’re going to jail, Mr. Slaughter.”
“No!” Slaughter lunged at the colonel.
Clay stopped him in his tracks. Two men standing sentry leapt forward and forced him, howling, back into his chair.
“I have been forced to put up with your cruelty with deserters.” The colonel rose from his seat and jabbed a f
inger at Slaughter. “But I will not stand by while you shoot a young woman and her father just because they’re standing close to a man you want to arrest.” The colonel looked at his sentry. “Take him away. We’ll decide on a sentence later. But I’d like to see him burn in Yuma for the rest of his life.”
Slaughter roared and struggled against the ruthless grip on his arms. They could still hear his shouting as he was dragged away from the building.
“Colonel, I’d like to say something before you go on with your questioning.” Beth’s voice echoed with strength and kindness and compassion. Even in this situation, Alex felt soothed by her miraculous voice.
“Of course, Mrs. Buchanan.” The colonel relaxed back into his desk chair.
“I don’t know exactly the rules about desertion, but I know my husband has mentioned being hit by shrapnel. I don’t think anyone, including Alex, understands just how badly wounded he was.”
“Beth, no.” Alex touched her arm. “I won’t let you make excuses for me.”
Beth patted his hand. “No one in the room, except me, has seen his back. He believes he ran off, deserted. But he also admits he doesn’t remember anything for some time after the last battle. His wounds are far more grievous than he lets on. I don’t believe he made a thoughtful decision to desert. I think he staggered off the battlefield, shot and bleeding. There are scars on his scalp. He probably had a concussion. I don’t think he made a choice to leave. The only crime he’s guilty of is, much later, when he came to himself, haunted by what he’d survived, he didn’t come back. That may be desertion, but you need to understand he didn’t run off, afraid of battle.”
“Let’s see these scars, doctor.” The colonel’s eyes narrowed as if he thought Beth was lying.
Reluctantly, but to support his wife, Alex stood, turned his back on the gathering, and unbuttoned his shirt.
Then Beth moved behind him and lifted his undershirt up from the waist.
Alex heard Sophie gasp. Even Clay and the colonel drew their breath in hard. Alex looked over his shoulder and saw horror on the colonel’s face and sad resolve on Beth’s.
“Are they really that bad?” It was a plain, bald fact that Alex had never spent much time trying to see his back in a mirror.
Sophie's Daughters Trilogy Page 29