by Zina Abbott
“Were you aware this was the nature of Mr. Layton’s business, Mrs. Humphry?”
The sensation of his warm breath as it caressed her ear when he spoke threatened to undo her. Penelope squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She mouthed the word “no.” She cleared her throat. “In his letters, Mr. Layton only said he had a business where he sold goods.”
The private snickered in response. “He calls that swill he sells goods?”
The threat in his voice evident, the sergeant turned to the man under his command. “That’s enough, Private!”
Penelope felt the captain’s hand on the shoulder opposite of where she pressed Jeremy against her neck. As much as she wished he was not a witness to her degradation, his touch comforted her. She sensed the strain in his voice as he continued his questions.
“When I first came out the door, Private, I noticed you found something quite humorous, either from something Mrs. Humphry said, or something you wished to share with her. Please tell both of us.”
The private, now wearing an expression of dismay, shifted his gaze from one side to the other. “Uh…”
“I’m waiting, Private.”
The man stiffened his spine and spoke as if standing before a judge, jury, and executioner. “Sir, when she said she wanted to tell ol’ Harvey…ahem…I mean, Mr. Layton she was on her way but had been delayed, I assumed she was one of the women he hires to work in the back of his saloon. Then she said she came to marry him. I know that’s not possible, sir, at least, not legally, because he’s already married to Battleax Betty who manages the girls…I mean…the women. That’s what the men call her, sir—Battleax Betty. Can’t get much past that woman. Then…ah…well, it dawned on me this lady, here…ah.” He nodded toward Penelope. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t catch the name.”
“Save the apologies for later, Private. Finish what you were saying.”
Penelope did not know whether or not to be grateful the captain was asking the questions she never would have had the courage to ask. Then again, it was not his foolishness, but hers, being revealed.
The private stood at attention once more. “I realized, sir, she really did expect to marry him. Harvey won’t tolerate having a baby around his place, so that surprised me.” He paused and turned his gaze to Penelope. “Sorry, ma’am, I meant you no disrespect.” As his gaze lost its focus, the private scrunched his face. “I always wondered how ol’ Harvey managed to convince women to come way out there and work for him.” He cleared his throat, and his voice dropped in volume. “I guess now I know.”
Penelope lowered her gaze and stroked Jeremy’s head before she assumed an air of confidence she did not feel. She focused on the sergeant. “Sergeant, I withdraw my request that you give Mr. Layton a message from me. I won’t be continuing to Pond Creek. When I’m able, I shall contact the newspaper in which I found his advertisement and advise the editor of the fraudulent intent behind his matrimonial advertisements. Hopefully, in the future, the editor is ethical enough to decline publishing Mr. Layton’s deceitful and misleading offers.”
As his mother spoke, Jeremy twisted in her arms and studied the two soldiers before him. Then his gaze caught sight of the scene behind them, and he pointed. “Look, Ma! Horseys!”
Penelope kept her words soft as she pressed her son’s arm down and once again clutched him tight to her. “Not now, Jerry. We’ll find some horseys to look at later. Let’s get you fed.”
“Hungry, Ma. Eat now.”
She began to turn to return to the kitchen, but stopped upon hearing sergeant’s voice.
“Mrs. Humphry, I owe you my sincere apology. It was wrong of me to jump to the conclusion you were aware of the nature of Harvey Layton’s business.”
As Penelope pressed her son’s face to her shoulder to quiet him, she turned and nodded to the sergeant. “Thank you, Sergeant, your apology is accepted. As it turns out, I appreciate your warning.” Feeling too humiliated to look the captain in the face, she stepped around him to begin her trek up the stairs. “Come, Jerry, we’ll find the special porridge the cook made just for you.”
Penelope listened to the captain’s footsteps as they followed her to the kitchen. She did not know if she should feel mortified or grateful for his interference. When they arrived at the top of the stairs, his body brushed her back as he reached around her to open the door. He followed her into a kitchen that was, thankfully, empty. Behind her, she heard the snick as the latch caught. The door to the main rooms of the station was closed.
Spinning around, and barely able to see through the tears she desperately tried to blink away, she sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t say it, Captain. Please don’t throw it in my face. To answer the question I know you are dying to ask, yes. I now have a compelling reason to turn back.” A sob escaped her lips, and she turned away. “I just don’t know where I’ll go or how I’ll pay to get there.”
When Marcus spoke, the words came out soft and gentle. “Mrs. Humphry, please believe me. I have no intention of throwing anything in your face. When I spoke of compelling reasons for you to turn back, I referred to the dangers the native tribes posed to you while traveling across disputed lands. I had no knowledge regarding Mr. Layton and his true purpose behind luring you to Pond Creek.”
Penelope’s sigh came out sounding more like a groan. “Thank you, Captain. I’m not sure it helps me feel better, but I appreciate your words.”
“Please feed your son and try to eat yourself. After I get things organized with my men and check my patients, I wish to speak with you more about the next few days. Quite frankly, I still need your help.”
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Chapter 18
~o0o~
M arcus checked all four patients recuperating in the makeshift hospital ward. All but Pvt. Colby with the infected arrowhead wound seemed to be recovering as well as he could expect. It grated that he must leave the man behind to care for another wounded soldier at the next station. He rose to his feet and spun around upon hearing Lt. Ezekiel’s voice.
“Captain, as you requested, I have Pvt. Belton here.”
Marcus walked over to the lieutenant and returned his salute. “Thank you, Lieutenant. And thank you for restoring Capt. Conyngham’s office. I’m afraid by the time I finished last night…”
“No apologies necessary, sir. We know you had a long night and taking care of the wounded was more important. I’ll leave you now with Pvt. Belton.”
“No, I’d appreciate it if you stay. Some of what I have to say, I’d like you to hear.” Marcus directed his attention to the private, a man he guessed to be in his late forties or early fifties, and returned his salute. “Pvt. Belton, with Sgt. Mulroney temporarily unable to lead a mounted patrol, he has recommended that you receive a field promotion to corporal. Since I am not your commanding line officer, I cannot say how long that will last. However, as a member of my medical escort, I need you to lead the men in your squad, at least until we return to Fort Hays.”
A wide grin spreading on his face, the soldier saluted. “Yes, sir, Capt. Garrett. I’ve done this before. I can even stitch on my corporal’s chevron I keep in my housewife and take it from there.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You keep extra chevrons in your mend kit? I did hear you’ve been promoted before.”
The new corporal nodded. “True, sir. Been promoted and busted back more than once. That’s why I keep both corporal and sergeant chevrons handy for when they’re needed.” He sobered. “I take it in stride, sir. I’ll do a good job for you, Captain.”
“I’m sure you will, Corporal. However, I want you to understand what I won’t take in stride.”
The newly-promoted Cpl. Belton eyed him warily. “Sir?”
“As a surgeon, I’m able to see from some of the characteristics on your face that you enjoy a good bottle of whiskey when you can get it, correct?”
Again, Cpl. Belton grinned. “Yes, sir. That or rum—not overly
particular.”
Marcus lifted his hand, and, with his index finger pointed toward the ceiling, he shook his fist at the corporal as he spoke. “Even if the opportunity presents itself, you and your men are not to partake of any spirits, in any form, while we are on this assignment. You are responsible for the safety of the other men in your squad. Should I be transporting patients and my ambulance comes under attack, my wounded might be too injured to fight back to protect themselves. They will rely on the infantrymen with me and your men, Corporal, for protection. I will not tolerate you being so befuddled with liquor that you are unable to react quickly or give clear directions to your squad. If you fail me in this, once we return to Fort Hays, I will do everything in my power to, not just have you busted back to private, but drummed out of the service. Do I make myself clear?”
Sober-faced, Cpl. Belton stood stiffly at attention. “Perfectly, sir. I won’t let you down. Do you have any other orders for me, sir?”
Marcus spun on the balls of his feet and gestured toward his fellow officer. “Please allow me to introduce you to Lt. Ezekiel attached to Fort Monument. I will be leaving shortly for another station to provide medical care to another wounded soldier out of Fort Wallace. For escort, I’ll take the infantry unit that came with us and the men of the 7th Cavalry who asked for my services. I’ll be gone for at least two days. While I am gone, I’m putting you under the command of Lt. Ezekiel, or whomever he designates.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcus smiled and anticipated the soldier’s reaction to what he would say next. “There has been discussion regarding the need for additional meat. I offered your troopers with their mounts to be part of a hunting party.”
Cpl. Belton found his grin once more. “Yes, sir, if we receive orders to participate, we will do so willingly. Always enjoy a chance to go after the wooly beasts.”
“It’s up to the commander and Lt. Ezekiel. I’ll contact you about our return to Fort Hays when I get back from Smoky Hill Springs Station. That will be all from me, Corporal.”
Cpl. Belton snapped a sharp salute. “Yes, sir.”
As the corporal waited for the lieutenant’s orders, Marcus turned toward the door leading to the kitchen. As he heard the door at the front of the building open and shut, he paused and looked to his right. Although he knew the door was in the same room with the large front window that housed his patients, this was the first time he had seen it being used.
Capt. Conyngham waved him over. “Capt. Garrett, just the man I wish to see. Please step over by my desk—now that I have reclaimed it from your operating room.” He chuckled as he led the way to the corner behind the desk—the one with the doorway under the second floor stair landing that Marcus deduced led to his private quarters. Raising his gaze toward the ceiling, the commander turned to Marcus. “Oh, for a private office again. I’m afraid if we sit at the table, there will be no confidential conversation.”
A flicker of a frown momentarily creased Marcus’s forehead. “Understood, sir.” What does he need to talk about that must be confidential?
Capt. Conyngham leaned forward and lowered his voice. “As much as I understand the need calling you to Smoky Hills Springs, I worry about the four patients you’re leaving behind. I know the men my cook suggested I assign to watch over them are doing the best they can. Problem is, Captain, they’re not trained. I know you came as soon as possible, but I thought I would lose at least one of them—maybe both—before you arrived.”
“I understand, sir. I would have liked to have been here closer to the time they were wounded, too.” I’m still worried about Pvt. Colby.
“Captain, I don’t like you leaving them here, especially with one of them a civilian.” Capt. Conyngham tightened his jaw and shook his head.
“Sir, I was on my way to ask the most qualified person in the station I know of if she will oversee the care of the wounded in my absence. I’ll still need the men temporarily detailed as orderlies, but, if she agrees, she is capable of cleaning wounds and administering medications.”
“She? You mean, Mrs. Humphry? Won’t she be too busy with her baby?”
“That decision will be up to her. Excuse me while I ask her.” Marcus started to step away, but he turned back. “And, captain? For the sake of these men, wish me well.”
The captain’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “She’s upstairs in the room directly in front of you once you reach the landing.”
Marcus’s steps slowed as he reached the top of the stairs. It was the first time he had climbed to the top story, a half-story attic floor designed as sleeping quarters. As he reached the small, almost square landing, he realized the door ahead of him lead to the prime bedroom—the one claimed by the lieutenant. He had been told it had a good-sized window overlooking the back of the station grounds. The doors on either side, leading to two large, narrow rooms under the sloping roof, served as barracks-style sleeping areas for the stage line passengers.
Marcus felt his thoughts drawn to the stubborn, brave, talented woman who favorably impressed him the more he was around her. She courageously stuck with her goal—and her convictions—only to turn back once she realized she had been deceived. The scene he participated in that morning only strengthened his admiration for her. True, when he joined her earlier, he had done so to come to her aid. He understood military men better than she did, and he possessed enough rank to prevent any improper behavior directed toward her. Yet, as the men revealed the true nature behind the offer to bring her to Pond Creek, she, standing there and holding her baby while dressed in a worn and faded gown sporting a carefully-mended corner tear on her right sleeve, had responded with the aplomb and grace of a queen.
When he first realized she planned to travel to the frontier, he had been harsh with her. He still thought the region was too dangerous for her and her child. After the flood and other disturbances at Fort Wallace, even Libby Custer had packed up and moved away.
Marcus still did not agree with her earlier belief that an answer to prayer had guided her to accept Harvey Layton’s marriage offer and travel west. Yet, he could not help but be impressed with how well she kept her son protected while she came to Mr. Pierce’s aid, even as the confrontation with the Cheyenne continued outside the coach. His respect for her grew as, during the surgeries the previous night, she quickly followed directions and learned to anticipate what he needed.
He still had responsibility for those same patients, and he needed her help. But, now that her entire plans for the future were shattered, would she feel capable of serving others? Would she still be willing to consider them her patients, too? Or would she prefer to hide away until she could catch a stagecoach traveling east?
Marcus rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out. He stepped forward and knocked on the door.
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Chapter 19
~o0o~
P enelope folded the last of Jeremy’s diapers and placed them in the second of two stacks on top of the chest at the foot of the lieutenant’s bed. She could not thank him enough for graciously giving up his room for her. She would add the supply of Jeremy’s clothes to her carpetbag once it was time for her to leave the station. Where will I go?
She was told this station building had better accommodations than most. Still, when it was built, the stage companies had not anticipating many single women traveling the Smoky Hill Trail. Neither did they anticipate that relations with the Cheyenne and Arapaho—those tribes that considered the region their exclusive hunting grounds—would deteriorate to the point that a garrison of men was needed at the station for protection. She also had heard enough to know the soldiers would be tasked to protect the railroad workers once the rail lines reached Monument Station.
Penelope suspected that, sometime in the future, this land would be a good place to live. However, it was not now. Why had she felt such a strong confirmation to her prayer about com
ing west to marry? She knew becoming involved with someone like Harvey Layton and what she strongly suspected he had in mind was not right. It was not safe—for her or Jeremy. She must start over, yet, with her faith so shaken, she almost feared to pray about what she should do next. First, I must discover my options. I can’t expect my life to be handed to me on a silver platter.
Upon hearing Jeremy’s joyful laughter, Penelope smiled as she turned and watched her son.
No longer cramped inside a stagecoach where he was expected to sit still, Jeremy used his hands to pull himself up the side of the bed. Next, he walked his palms along the top of the mattress to keep his balance as his feet side-stepped on the floor. When he reached the bottom of the bed, instead of rounding the corner and using the lieutenant’s trunk for support, he turned and squealed out a spate of giggles as he took several unsupported steps to the middle of the room. Once he lost his balance and plopped on his diaper-padded bottom, he turned onto his hands and knees and crawled back to the bed to try again.
As she closed her eyes and sucked back a sop, Penelope brought the side of her fist to her lips. Oh, Jeremy. I must take care of you. What shall I do? Not for the first time, her thoughts drifted to Roslyn. Even though she knew her cousin was her only close family besides Jeremy, she also knew Roslyn and Elam did not have the room or money to give her and Jeremy much help. The thought of living in a livery stall like Roslyn and Elam did their first winter in Junction City caused her to shudder. Yet, she might not have any other choice. First, I must figure out how to get there.
Even as she took comfort in watching her son develop his walking skills, Penelope’s mind dwelt on the reality that she did not have the funds to buy food for her and Jeremy for many more days. She surely did not have enough to buy a ticket back to Junction City. Her only hope was the stage company would honor her existing ticket as a means to return her to where the rail lines ended.