by Zina Abbott
As another thought entered his mind, Eustace groaned. He immediately strode outdoors and assumed an aggressive stance as he called for Jim and Tom to join him. “I want both of you to listen to me carefully. If you value your lives, you will do what I say.” He repeatedly jabbed his finger at the men.
The two stock tenders glanced at each other before Jim spoke. “We’re listening, Eustace. No need to threaten us.”
He turned to Tom. “That smart remark you made this morning about me visiting Lorena, I will not tolerate you discussing my personal affairs, or how you think I should conduct them—not to me and especially not in the hearing of others. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, sure, Eustace.”
Jim slouched and pressed his lips together. “We know you were an officer for the South, Eustace, but it’s not like we’re soldiers. Why are you being so heavy-handed about this whole thing?”
Eustace stepped forward and leaned toward the two men. “Because I will not allow any of you men to make sport of her.” Clyde tried, and you will not succeed where he failed.
Jim hunched his shoulders and spread his hands. “We weren’t poking fun. Tom was serious. You need to get someone in here who can cook. If you like this woman, you should ask her.”
Eustace closed his eyes and inhaled. I more than like her, but she deserves a better man than me. He focused back on what Jim was saying.
“I mean, we might joke around, but we don’t mean you any disrespect. None of the men will think anything bad of you talking to her, either. Well, maybe Charlie might say something. But, Eustace, he’s always talking about that woman named Fancy. I don’t think he’s interested in Lorena anymore.”
Eustace clenched his fists. “That is exactly who I am talking about—Charlie, and men like him, making an issue that she used to work in a saloon. If, and this is an extremely big if, I decide to talk to Lorena about coming to the station, I do not want her to hear even a hint of rudeness from anyone.”
The men glanced at one another again.
Eustace ground his teeth and swallowed. I should not have said “if.”
Jim spoke up first. “We respect you too much for that, Eustace. Don’t think for a minute we don’t realize it was you, not those soldier boys from the fort, who got us through that attack yesterday. I mean, Elam picked off quite a few of the enemy, but you were the one who told us what to do and kept us from losing our heads, especially when they set the roof on fire and broke through the wall to go for the stock.”
Tom scrunched his face as he considered Eustace’s words. “I agree. Yeah, I can understand you not wanting to put up with any of Charlie’s bull.”
Jim nodded. “From everything we’ve heard about the lady in question, we have nothing against her. We’ll welcome her with all proper respect.” He cast his gaze skyward. “I just hope she can cook.”
“She can cook. The question is, can I find her?” And will she be willing to come?
Tom’s jaw dropped open. “You don’t know where she is? I thought she was in Salina.”
“At one time, she was.” Eustace heaved a sigh and considered how much to say. “You want the truth? Here it is. She started working at the saloon as a cook. The saloon owner started her working the front a few days, which is what Charlie keeps talking about. When I learned the owner was planning to use blackmail to force her to take men upstairs, I got her out of there.” They don’t need to know the rest. “That’s why I haven’t gone back to Salina for over a month.” Eustace averted his gaze when he realized both Jim and Tom stared at him with incredulous expressions on their faces.
Jim studied him through narrowed eyelids. “You mean you never…”
Eustace shook his head. At least that is the truth.
Tom, scrunching is face, spoke next. “And you don’t know where she went?”
Again, Eustace shook his head. “I gave her what money I could. I told her to change her name and go someplace no one would find her.”
Jim, his arms folded, glared at Eustace. “Well, you need to find her. In addition to the problem of us having no cook, you haven’t been fit to live with ever since your last trip to Salina.”
As anger surged within him once more, Eustace balled his fists. Curse that Jim for being right. He forced his hands to relax and allowed himself several calming breaths. “For the time being, I want nothing said. Assuming that, after yesterday’s attack, the fort still sent out a patrol to escort his stagecoach here, Fergus is due to arrive this afternoon. I don’t trust him not to cause trouble if he even gets a hint of this possibility. I’ll warn Charlie to keep his big mouth shut. Even if I find her and bring her here, she might refuse to stay if the men treat her with disrespect.”
Jim and Tom slowly turned toward each other. Understanding passed between them.
Eustace felt his heartrate slow. Good. They caught on to the real danger. He also realized he had tipped his hand. They knew he planned to leave for long enough to look for Lorena. “We’re done talking about this. For the time being, I need you two to pitch in and help with the cooking the best you can. I’m getting the rifle and telescope to search past the walls for possible trouble and any sign the patrol is on its way. After that, our main tasks for the day will be to haul enough water to fill everything available in this station. We also need to make a solid repair on that section of wall the Cheyenne breached yesterday.”
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Chapter 19
~o0o~
Ellsworth B.O.D. Station, Kansas
Tuesday, June 19, 1866
W hen he heard the sound of the horn announcing the arrival of the stagecoach, relief flooded Eustace. He next realized it was coming from the east—the coach from the direction of Spring Creek Station. Benny Jessup should be driving. He wondered if the man had any news about Isaac. Probably not, since Benny and his shotgun messenger, Charlie Bean, would have left Louisville Monday, the same day the coach transporting Isaac left the Ellsworth Station.
The other matter that concerned Eustace was Fergus Bixby’s coach coming in from the west. It should have been there the day before, but it had yet to arrive. Since Roslyn left earlier than the usual time on Monday, it was just as well, or he would have had extras in the station with no cook. However, considering Fergus was a day late, Eustace began to worry in earnest. As much as he did not care for the driver, he did not wish the man dead. He especially wished no harm to come to Gunter Schiller, who road shotgun messenger for him.
In addition, from the perspective of a future stationmaster, he worried about the coach and team, He knew it was bad enough for the company that, for the time being—maybe permanently—they had lost Isaac as both a stationmaster and a driver. The company could not afford to lose another coach and team—not to mention, any passengers—to the Cheyenne.
Hopefully, the Army escort held him back. Unfortunately, without a telegraph nearby or any information from either the military or his drivers, he floundered in the dark.
Jim manned the gate, and Benny drove the team through.
Eustace helped Tom unhitch the leaders while Benny and his messenger, Charlie Bean, climbed down and headed for the necessaries. As soon as Eustace saw the men approach the door to the building, he walked over and followed them inside. As Benny and Charlie each sat across from each other on the far side of the trestle table, Eustace sat on the bench closest to the door. “Did you pass Isaac’s coach on your way here? I don’t know if you heard, but we had a little scrape with the Cheyenne Sunday.”
Charlie nodded. “We heard. Heard about Isaac, too. It’s all those kids at Salina Station could talk about. It was bad, huh?” He stretched his neck as he turned his gaze to the stove. “You got any hot coffee over there?” He rose from his bench to amble over to the woodstove.
Eustace fisted his hand and tapped his knuckles on the table. We were attacked by Cheyenne, Isaac was injured, and all he cares about is a cup of coffee? “It was bad. As far as th
e coffee goes, Charlie, your guess is as good as mine. With these extra soldier boys here, I can’t keep track of the food being eaten. I finally had to order them to stay out of the building and eat the food we carry out to them.” Eustace turned to Benny. “What about Isaac?”
“I couldn’t believe it when I passed his coach just outside of Solomon Fork Station. Instead of it being Isaac in the box, it was that redheaded Mrs. Welsh up there driving the team and snapping her whip in salute as pretty as you please.” He shook his head. “What’s the world coming to when they let women drive stagecoaches?”
Eustace bit back his bitter opinion of Roslyn driving the coach. His objective being to learn what he could of Isaac’s condition, he kept his voice calm. “Out of all of us here, Isaac got the worst of it. Mrs. Welsh knows how to drive a four-in-hand team and decided Isaac and the two soldiers wounded in the attack needed to get to a doctor. Would you, by any chance, have any idea how he’s doing?”
Benny shook his head. “Not good. Heard at Salina he ran a fever all night. If he’s still got that lead in his shoulder, he needs to get it out. Wish I could tell you more.”
“Thanks, Benny.” Eustace stood and turned toward the door.
Benny leaned forward. “Uh, you know, Eustace, the Cheyenne tried for the stagecoach just before Big Spring Station yesterday.”
“What?” Eustace spun around and stepped toward Benny. He slapped both palms on the table and leaned toward the driver. “The stagecoach Isaac rode on was attacked, and you’re just now telling me this?”
“Well, you were asking about Isaac, not what happened on the road.”
Charlie snorted. “To hear those troopers brag, the way they drove off them Cheyenne, they were the biggest heroes of the century.” He drained his cup.
“Yeah.” Benny leaned forward and lowered his voice. “According to what we heard from the Salina stationmaster and his wife, Danny and that extra messenger did more to drive the natives away from the coach than the troopers did. The sergeant who escorted us back, though, he had nothing nice to say about Mrs. Welsh. From what I picked up on, she gave him what for because he didn’t stay with the coach when the Cheyenne first showed up.”
“That other messenger was Elam Stewart. He left with Mrs. Welsh. On Sunday, Sergeant Oglethorpe said the fort would be sending escorts going as far as Big Springs Station for a while. I won’t know if that is still the plan unless and until someone shows up here tomorrow.”
Benny looked over at Charlie and shrugged. “As long as they ride far enough out from the coach so I’m not eating their dust, I guess I don’t mind. Hope it’s not Sgt. Baker again. Don’t much care for some soldier boy telling me how to drive my coach.”
Eustace nodded. One of the smartest things he did once the patrol showed up to help guard the station was that he let their corporal know right from the start he ran the station, not the Army. “Needless to say, should Fergus arrive, the Cheyenne attack on the station and the stagecoach is information I don’t want you to share with any passengers. The less said to Fergus and Gunter about the stagecoach incident, the better. Fergus is already skittish about the Cheyenne.”
“Sure, Eustace. Tell you what. I can make a fair pot of coffee. Since it looks like Charlie drained what you had left, I’ll start a fresh pot for you.”
“Thank you, Benny.”
Benny stood, looked around the room, and turned his gaze to Eustace. “Uh, don’t want to add to your troubles here, Eustace, but will there be any grub served today?”
Eustace sucked in his breath. “I’ve got beans left from last night. We’ll put a little water in them and make them stretch. I also have ham and the last of the bread we can slice up.”
Charlie grunted and sat at the table once more. “Have to do, I suppose.”
“Afraid so.” Eustace stared at the man who had the potential of creating problems for Lorena should Eustace find her and bring her to the station. Now’s as good of a time as any. “Charlie, I’d appreciate a word with you—in private.”
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Chapter 20
~o0o~
Ellsworth B.O.D. Station, Kansas
Wednesday, June 20, 1866
T he sound of a coach horn filled the air. Eustace shook his head and cursed as he left the pot with potatoes boiling on the stove to go to the one glazed window in the station through which he could see the station yard. It was Amos’s day to arrive. Fearing the worst could have happened to Fergus and his coach, he knew he should feel relieved if Fergus finally arrived at the station. He wished, whoever it was, they could have arrived a little later, after he figured out the dinner details. The men finished off the last of the bread and beans the night before. Boiled potatoes and fried ham were on the menu for today.
Time to find out which driver arrived and if the coach was in one piece.
Eustace started for the door but turned back to speak to Benny sitting at the table. To emphasize his warning from the day before, he glared. “Benny, just want to remind both you and Charlie, I prefer to avoid discussing details of the attack on the station and the extent of Isaac’s injuries. Also, they don’t need to know about the attack on the last stagecoach that went east.”
Eustace walked outside in time to see it was Amos, not Fergus, who pulled his coach to a stop next to Benny’s coach.
As Paul, the shotgun messenger, climbed out of his seat on the driver’s box, Amos studied the other coach. He then turned his gaze toward the six mules inside the corral.
Eustace knew what the man saw. The station was short on livestock. He started to walk over to help Jim and Tom unhitch the mules that had come from Buffalo Creek Station.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caused Eustace to pause.
Paul opened the door to the coach.
A man in his early-to-middle forties alighted. He turned and helped a woman Eustace guessed to be his wife step outside. Eustace puffed out a breath and forced a smile. He nodded a greeting to the male passenger. I definitely need to figure out something for dinner.
Eustace turned in time to see Jim and Tom had already unhitched the two leader mules and were leading them to the corral. He decided to leave the wheeler pair to the two men while he waited for Amos to climb out of the driver’s box. “What happened to Fergus? He never showed this week.”
Amos snorted and shook his head. “He sat this one out.”
“What? Why?”
Paul walked over and joined them. “The escort patrol was late getting to Hicks Station. After that war party followed him here last week, Fergus refused to leave without the escort. Then, when the patrol did arrive, and the sergeant told him about the attack on Ellsworth, he refused to drive at all. Especially once he heard no one was waiting here, he decided to drive with the patrol back to Big Creek station so they could escort my stage out.” Amos nodded in the direction of the two passengers who now walked toward the necessaries. “Those were his passengers he left at Hicks. They’re not happy about the delay.”
“So, you knew about the attack on the station here?”
Amos nodded. “Sgt. Oglethorpe leading the patrol told us. Said he was here for it on Sunday. That’s why Fergus said he’d wait, but I could come on ahead to see if Benny made it through. I see he did.”
“So, your passengers know about the attack?”
Amos nodded. “Yep. The missus can’t wait to get back to Atchison. Said she isn’t going to Denver again until they build the train all the way through.”
“Problem is, both Mrs. Peterson and Mrs. Welsh are gone. I don’t have a cook.” Eustace looked between the two men. “Either of you know your way around a cookstove?”
Paul grimaced. “Well, I ended up being mess cook for the men in my Sibley tent during the war. I don’t know how much that qualifies me. We mostly ate beans, coffee, and hardtack with a little maggoty beef thrown in on occasion. We bought canned stuff from the sutler when we could.”
E
ustace sighed. “That experience will have to do. Maybe our lady passenger knows how to make biscuits and will take mercy on us.” Eustace passed the male passenger still talking with Amos as he entered the building. He discovered his female guest snooping around the stove. “Hello, ma’am. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Eustace Cantrell, and I am temporarily in charge of the station.”
The woman abruptly nodded. “Mrs. Collins. Your station manager and his wife are who left for medical help, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately, among those that remain, none of us are gifted in the kitchen. I do have some ham to slice, and I’ll serve the potatoes, once they are finished boiling.”
Mrs. Collins harrumphed. “Well, if you have some flour and either drippings or some fat you can slice off your ham, I can make white gravy.” She turned her head and, upon seeing the two aprons hanging on a peg on the north wall next to the door, stepped toward them.
Eustace tipped his head in acknowledgement. Finally, something is going right. “Thank you, ma’am, I would be most grateful. Let me show you the storeroom where we keep everything. If you could see your way to baking some biscuits, we would be forever in your debt.”
As she donned the apron, Mrs. Collins pursed her lips and glanced out of the corner of her eyes. “If you have what I need, I’ll make biscuits. Perhaps you should have one of your men watch me and learn how to do it. It’s not that hard.”
“Good idea. I’ll bring Tom in as soon as he’s finished working with the livestock.”
“Make sure he brushes off his clothes and washes his hands, arms, and face first.”
Eustace nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Let me check on those potatoes.”
Mrs. Collins waved him toward the door. “I’ll do that. Go get your biscuit-maker.”
Eustace left the woman to explore the storeroom where Caroline had organized most of the food supplies for the station, particularly those root vegetables that kept best in the dark. He peered in the pot of potatoes.