A Dream Unfolding

by Karen Baney

  When he left over a month ago, she was still recovering from the loss of her baby. It pained him to leave her in such a state, but his first duty was to the army and not to the wife of his lost friend. However, Joshua found it impossible to think of her as Drew’s wife any longer. Despite how ill conceived his proposal had been, in the weeks away from Hannah, he wished she had agreed to become his wife. He missed her and thought of her often. He so looked forward to seeing her again.

  Nonetheless, there was little he could do about any of that now. He and his men were out on patrol for the next several weeks, escorting the military mail between Fort Whipple and Fort Wingate in New Mexico. Like always, Joshua would place his focus on his work, placing his life on hold for another time.

  Arizona Territory

  March 29, 1864

  Will, Ben, and several other hands rode into town. Lieutenant Colonel King Woolsey called a meeting of the area miners, ranchers, and other settlers following the recent Apache attacks. Three Americans and five Mexicans had been killed a few days ago, this coming closely on the heels of a cowboy’s brutal murder in town. All the deaths were being attributed to the savage Apaches.

  Listening carefully, Will found Woolsey to be a charismatic fellow. He rallied the men with his talk of revenge. When he stated that the only good Indian was a dead one, the crowd cheered. The Apaches had been terrorizing the citizens of central Arizona for months now and the latest attacks stirred their anger. They wanted blood for blood. Woolsey was there to meet that need.

  Will was concerned both by the Indian raids and by the blood thirsty settlers. While he longed for a more peaceful resolution, he knew it was unlikely to come without loss of life first. Pushing aside his own opinion on the matter, Will knew he had a duty as a local rancher to assist in tracking down the offending savages.

  By the end of the day, Woolsey amassed one hundred volunteers comprised of the ranchers, miners, friendly Maricopa Indians, Mexicans, and townsfolk. Will, Ben Shepherd, Pedro Morales, and Sam Whitten represented Colter Ranch. The group of Arizona Volunteers followed Lieutenant Colonel Woolsey’s direction and set off in pursuit of the Apaches.

  On the third night of their pursuit, Woolsey announced they would continue marching through the night. He divided the men into A Company, B Company, and C Company. Will and his hands were part of B Company. Each company spread out roughly a mile apart. The A Company headed east and C Company headed southwest. The B Company moved down the center of the nearby Squaw Canyon. Within two days, the B Company spotted the band of Apaches.

  Charging with the rest of the men, Will loaded his rifle and fired at the Indians. Ben was to his left taking similar action. On the other side of Ben, Whitten and Pedro joined the fight. Smoke from the weapons fire permeated the air. The war cries of the Apaches echoed off the canyon walls as Will and his men advanced.

  As they pressed further into the canyon, the Apaches fled directly into the path of C Company. Caught between the canyon walls and two companies, the Indians were at a disadvantage. Whitten hit one of the Apaches in the leg as he dove for cover. Both Pedro and Ben hit one Indian each killing them on contact. As the Indians began to scatter, several more were shot down by C Company. The battle lasted a half hour before a large number of the Apaches found escape. Will counted at least fourteen dead and several more injured.

  Not to be easily deterred, Woolsey sent a few men off to rendezvous with A Company, while the remaining men pursued the fleeing savages for a few more days. The volunteers’ provisions were running low, so they finally gave up chasing the Indians and returned home.

  Riding over the mountain towards home, Will thought of what they had done. He found it a difficult experience to forget. He knew that as long as the Apache attacks were left unanswered, the settlers would never be safe. Yet, General Carleton’s “extermination” order and Woolsey’s blood thirst for the Apaches seemed extreme. There was no perfect solution. If both sides refused to meet halfway, the killing would continue until one side came out the victor. He suspected in the end the Apaches would be the ones to suffer the most.

  One thing Will knew for certain, he would keep his focus on ranching. No longer would he participate in Woolsey’s raids, nor would he fight the Apaches except in self defense. He had no taste for killing.

  Chapter 23

  Fort Whipple

  May 16, 1864

  Hannah reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow. Though the temperature was pleasant, the sun beat down on her and the two Mexican women from the mess tent as they packed crates of food and supplies.

  Upon the governor’s return from Tucson, he announced the Granite Creek area would become the official territorial capital, to be named at a town meeting at the end of the month. Since the military provided protection for the settlers, Major Willis ordered the temporary fort moved to just one mile northeast of the town, instead of the current twenty-five miles. The entire fort was a flurry of chaotic activity.

  For the past few days, Hannah and her coworkers prepared extra bread and other cold fare for the soldiers, cavalry, and civilians to pack on the two day move. The midday meal today would be the last hot meal prepared until they unpacked at the new fort location.

  Stirring the beans over the fire, Hannah looked around at the emptying mess tent. Several soldiers made quick work of loading the crude tables and benches into one of the two wagons designated for the mess hall. Hannah doubted they would be able to fit all the furniture, tents, supplies, food, and dishes into just two wagons. Hopefully these men were very skilled at packing a wagon to overflowing.

  Right on schedule, men formed a line for the midday meal. Hannah left the other two women to continue their packing while she went about serving the men. She instructed the hungry patrons to grab their own coffee—it would be self-service today—while she heaped food onto waiting plates. She kept her chatter with the men to a minimum, hoping to speed the line along. Since the furniture was half packed, most of the men stood to scarf down the simple meal. After an hour, everyone was served and the tent cleared out.

  Hannah carried several buckets of water to the empty dirty pots. After filling them with the water, she shaved off a few bits of soap and let them soak. She started washing the plates and mugs in the dish pan she filled with warm water and soap. One of her coworkers joined Hannah with towel in hand, drying as Hannah blazed through the washing. For some reason she had twice the energy today as any normal day. Maybe it was because she had twice as much work and the deadline to have everything packed approached rapidly. When the dishes were done, Hannah set about scrubbing the large pots clean. She attacked the job with the same super human energy, finishing in record time. Once the pots were dried, she used them to pack smaller pots and other kitchen goods, acutely aware of the limited wagon space.

  Two men started dismantling the tent from around them, stealing the last of the cool shade. The rest of the packing would be done in the bright afternoon sun. Hannah ran her dress sleeve across her forehead, mopping up the newly formed beads of sweat. Oh, for a gentle breeze!

  Stretching her sore back, Hannah looked around at what was left of the mess tent. Movement caught her attention. Lieutenant Harrison passed by, grunting under the heavy weight of the crate he carried. Martha waved from across the way after securing several bundles in a trunk. The newspaper publisher had his printing press loaded and ready to go. Not a soul was idle at the fort today.

  As the sun faded from the sky, Hannah took one last look around the mess tent area. Two overloaded wagons were the only thing in sight.

  Having worked most of the day preparing the mess operations for the move, Hannah worked late into the evening on her own things. She secured the remaining crates and trunks of her belongings. She left a few small items she needed for the morning in her carpet bag. Besides the bag, her bedroll, and tent, everything was loaded and ready to go.

  The move closer to town excited Hannah. She missed Betty Lancaster’s company. She had not seen her friend sinc
e they arrived at the fort four months ago. With Betty setting up her boardinghouse in town, twenty-five miles away, the distance made it difficult to visit, as did Hannah’s job. But, once the fort relocated, she could easily make it there and back on her half day off each week. She hoped to make her first visit to Betty as soon as possible. Other than convincing Lieutenant Harrison to ride in one quick note to Betty, she had no contact for months. And that had been a brief tear streaked missive to let her friend know she lost her baby. Sighing, she retired for the night, grateful that she would be reunited with her dear friend soon.

  The next morning, Hannah hurried to get ready. She rolled up her bedding and set it aside with her carpet bag. She tried to take down the tent, but struggled to do so alone. A soldier passing by stopped to help, making quick work of the task. She supervised the loading of her things into a wagon so she would know where to find them upon their arrival. Then she arrived where the mess tent used to stand to pass out the bread, biscuits, and dried meat prepared the day before.

  Shortly after the morning meal, the last items were loaded and the fort became mobile. Hannah always thought of a fort as a stationary post until now. The cavalry split into two groups, one leading the train of wagons, the other bringing up the rear. Most of the civilian wagons were interspersed with military supply wagons, while many of the soldiers walked the twenty-five miles on foot.

  For the first time since arriving in the Arizona Territory, she soaked in its beauty. The sky was wide and deep azure blue before them. The wagons jostled over rolling grassy hills skirting the forests of tall pine trees. The mountains to the southwest had odd rocky, almost boulder-like shapes peeking out between the trees. Hannah had never seen such chalky gray-white mountains before. The color sharply contrasted against the brightness of the sky and the dark green pines, causing her to squint at the sight. The dry air carried a heavy fragrance of pine. As the sun dropped behind the mountains, deep reds and streaks of light made a beautifully colored back drop for the now shadowed rocks.

  As the wagon pulled to a stop, Hannah climbed down. Walking around to the back, she dug around in her carpet bag for some paper, and took off towards the forest. The edge of the forest nearest the campsite offered sparse cover, so she walked several more yards until coming to a boulder. She crouched down, quickly taking care of business. When she stood and smoothed out the skirt of her dress, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Taking a cautious step, she looked around the forest in the dimming light. Not seeing what caught her attention earlier, she turned back towards camp.

  Stopping short, she let out a high pitched scream with all her might.

  ---

  Joshua finished unsaddling his horse when he heard a woman’s terrified scream. Dropping the saddle to the ground, he grabbed both his carbine and Dragoon revolver. Then he took off, with Bixley close by his side, towards the screams still echoing through the air. Dodging the tall ponderosa pines, he skirted a large boulder and that is when he saw her.

  Hannah knelt on the ground, screaming like she was touched. She had her hands over her eyes so she did not see him approach. Joshua looked around to find the source of her fear, but only saw the two Pima guides for the army standing nearby. They must have come running to lend aid. Bixley walked over to question the two Pima guides as Joshua knelt beside the hysterical woman.

  “Hannah,” Joshua said as he gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

  She tensed and shrunk from his touch before dropping her hands to her sides.

  “Whatever is the matter?” he asked.

  Her face was pale and her breath came in short puffs. Slowly she turned her head towards him. The fear in her eyes scared him enough that he took another look around to make sure they were safe. Seeing nothing, he looked back into those beautiful blue eyes.

  As he lifted his hand to push a strand of hair from her face, Joshua said, “Tell me what has you so frightened, Hannah.”

  Her eyes darted away towards Bixley. Instantly she tensed. “Those Indians…” She stammered.

  “Those are the army’s Pima guides. Is that what frightened you?” Joshua said as he wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb.

  She nodded.

  “They are quite harmless. Good friends.”

  “I thought they were Apaches,” she said as Joshua helped her to her feet.

  Her foot caught on a rock and she lost her balance, falling towards him. Instinct propelled his arms forward, around her, to steady her. She was so close he could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair. Unwilling to let go, Joshua held her close. His breathing went shallow and his heart picked up pace. What would it be like to kiss her? He thought as he parted his lips.

  “Everything okay, Lieutenant?” Bixley asked, breaking the spell.

  Joshua let go of Hannah slowly, knowing Bixley would likely rile him for his behavior later. Clearing his throat, he said, “Hannah, come meet our Pima guides.” She followed to his right, slightly behind as if still uncertain these Indians could be trusted. Joshua introduced her to the guides and after a brief explanation of the misunderstanding, everyone seemed more at ease.

  Offering her his arm, Joshua led her back to camp, notably aware of her light touch on his arm. He performed similar gentlemanly acts numerous times with her. Why were his senses suddenly in tune with her every breath?

  He stopped at the campfire near the mess wagon. When Hannah let go of his arm to retrieve her bedroll, he suddenly felt her absence. Joshua watched as she settled by the fire. Longing filled his heart as he stood there, realizing just how much he would like to keep her close. Perhaps he should reiterate his proposal from a few months ago.

  Late the next morning, the line of wagons arrived on time at the new site of Fort Whipple. There, awaiting the group, was the small contingent of soldiers and cavalry that were sent ahead to plan the layout. The wagons were directed where to go and the unpacking began.

  Having done their packing job well, Hannah and the other women unpacked everything in a matter of hours, leaving just enough time to make the final meal for the day. The long line of hungry men waited patiently for their turn to be served.

  “Lieutenant Harrison,” she smiled as she dished up his plate. Still embarrassed by her misunderstanding yesterday, she hoped he did not think worse of her.

  “Hannah,” he replied with a broad smile. “I see you ladies managed to get things settled here in short order.”

  She nodded as the next man in line shuffled closer. The lieutenant took the not so subtle hint and left the line, sitting at a table nearby. Hannah heaped food onto the impatient man’s plate avoiding the temptation to glare at him. Instead she glanced over at Lieutenant Harrison and was rewarded with a smile.

  Odd, how their friendship seemed to pick up where it left off, even after months of little contact. Much of the last three months, he had been gone on patrols—escorting the governor or escorting the military mail—with only a handful of days at the fort between assignments. Most of her interactions with him had been confined to the short pleasantries at meal times on those rare occasions he was at the fort. Last night’s embarrassing episode was the most she had spoken to the lieutenant in months. She missed his friendship and found herself wondering how wives of the military men managed with the long absences.

  On Sunday afternoon, Hannah tapped her foot impatiently as the last few men filtered into the mess tent for the midday meal. She could barely contain her excitement. She and Martha were going to visit Betty this afternoon on her half day off—which would start just as soon as these last few men were served.

  Finally, when the last man was served his meal, Hannah untied the apron from her waist. Walking back to her tent, she dropped the apron on the crate acting as a chair. She would need to find some time to wash a few things soon. Unpinning her hair, she brushed out the long strands before twisting them into a neat chignon. Placing the last pin in her hair, she took up her mirror to survey her appearance. Satisfied, other than the dark circ
les under her eyes, she set the small mirror back on the crate.

  She was tired. Tired of living in a tent. Tired of living out of crates. Tired of working so hard.

  Hannah squared her shoulders, trying to think on better things, as she exited her tent. Martha stood waiting a few feet away, with Lieutenant Harrison and two men astride their cavalry horses. When Hannah mentioned to the lieutenant the planned visit to town, he insisted that he accompany the ladies. Later she learned that Major Willis wanted all civilians escorted on any trips to town, despite the short one mile distance.

  After greeting the lieutenant and Martha, Hannah waited as Lieutenant Harrison helped Martha into the wagon. Then, grasping her waist, he lifted her up to the seat. Taking the small spot next to Hannah, the lieutenant released the brake and started the wagon in motion.

  Hannah surveyed the sights from her spot on the hard springboard seat sandwiched between Martha and the lieutenant. She had an image in her mind of what she thought the town would look like, but reality seemed more primitive than she imagined. In the center of town, there was a large square, what she would call a city block back in Cincinnati. The square included a smattering of log cabin structures, tents, and covered wagons. A clearly defined road outlined the edges of the square. The road was wide allowing enough room for a wagon to stop on one side and still allow two wagons to pass in opposite directions. On the other side of the wide perimeter road, there were more log cabins, tents, and covered wagons. Before arriving at the boardinghouse, Hannah had counted at least six semi-permanent structures, far fewer than she presumed.