by Zina Abbott
Sgt. Mulroney sat up far enough to prop his upper body on a bent elbow. “It’s too modest you’re being, Mrs. Humphry. A true miracle-worker, now, aren’t you? Along with patching my unmentionables, she sewed my breeches so I’ll be riding my horse without them splitting wide open again.”
Penelope smiled but declined to admit where she found the black fabric she stitched to the back of the hole in the trousers for reinforcement. It came from her black petticoat—a sturdier cotton than the muslin bandages. As for the matching blue wool to fill the hole, she took it from the bottom of a trouser leg where it had been turned under before hemming. Having not been exposed to the sun, the patch was not a perfect match. However, it was the same fabric.
Marcus squatted to exam Penelope’s mending job on the trousers. “You’re right about it being fortunate she was here to do that for you, Sergeant.” He stood and placed his hands on his hips. “At least, when we get you in the ambulance tomorrow to start back for Fort Hays, you can wear your uniform instead of a blanket.”
“Yes, sir.” Sgt. Mulroney’s face lit with a mischievous smile. “If you can be finding me a horse, sir…”
Marcus cut him off. “No. You’ll not be mounting a horse for several weeks, Sergeant. However, if, on our way back, we are greeted by unwanted visitors, I might loan you my carbine.” He raised a finger. “Only if you feel up to it.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll be feeling up to it.”
“Just make sure, if you drop it, it falls inside the ambulance. Otherwise, you’ll be answering to me as well as your quartermaster.”
Penelope stepped around to face him. “You believe these other two men are well enough for you to leave them tomorrow?”
“Yes. Their wounds are healing well without signs of infection. I suspect the arrow Pvt. Colby took might have cracked a rib. After supper, I’ll find some longer bandages, even if I must ask you to sew two of them together, and, with Pvt. Samuels’s help, wrap his chest up tight.” Marcus turned to the private. “Pvt. Samuels, I saw Lt. Ezekiel in passing long enough for him to tell me you’ve done a good job here assisting Mrs. Humphry. The other men did well helping them with their personal care, but it appears you have the knack for tending wounds.”
Penelope watched the infantryman-turned-orderly stand a little taller. She nodded. “It’s true. There was a time or two when I was in the middle of helping one of the men and Jeremy demanded my attention. Pvt. Samuels stepped in and took over for me.”
Pvt. Samuels’ eyes lit with the praise. “Mrs. Humphry showed me how, Captain. She told me about cleaning wounds with lye soap and water—water that’s been boiled and cooled if it’s more than a scratch. I can set bones and put on splints, too.”
Penelope watched Marcus tip his head in appreciation. “That’s good, Private. I’ll suggest to Capt. Conyngham and the lieutenant that they leave you in charge of these men until they’re ready to resume full duty. My advice is that these men may walk around and take care of their own needs, but, for several days yet, they should rest their arms on the same side where they were injured. Pvt. Colby, especially, needs an extra day of rest because he took longer to shake off his infection. If his rib is cracked, he needs to give it a few days to heal. I want them on light duty only for two weeks after that.” Marcus shook his head. “A post with as many men as you have should have an assistant surgeon or, at the least, an experienced male nurse. If you enjoy this kind of work, Private, I’ll suggest to your captain he send you to Fort Hays long enough to get some medical training.”
“I’d like that, Captain.”
While she listened to Marcus discuss things with the injured soldiers and Pvt. Samuels, a part of her became aware the cook set the table for supper. Once Marcus finished, she gestured and began walking toward the dining area. She paused as Marcus placed a hand on her forearm and leaned forward.
“Mrs. Humphry, a minute, please.”
The realization that Marcus put his face so close to hers sent a shiver of delight coursing through her. The tone behind the words, spoken softly next to her ear, held a hint of urgency. Penelope’s gaze met his. His eyes radiated a sense of intensity that left her feeling puzzled. “Yes, Captain?”
“Might we walk around the station after supper? Before we return to Fort Hays and the commotion of reporting in and getting settled intrudes, I wish to discuss a matter with you.” He glanced at Jeremy. “You’re welcome to bring Jerry.”
“Certainly, Captain.” Joy filled Penelope at the thought Marcus wished to speak with her. She wanted nothing more than to spend time alone with him—as alone as they could be in cramped quarters with Jeremy along and surrounded by two companies of soldiers.
Realistically, she knew only a short time with him remained before he disappeared from her life. Marcus Garrett was assigned to Fort Larned and he planned to return there. Her life must take another direction. After speaking with Capt. Conyngham, she made her decision. If she could hire someone to watch Jeremy during the day, and if Steward Polly agreed to offer the Fort Hays hospital matron job to her, she would accept. It was far from an ideal situation. However, she would be able to provide for her son.
Once she, the captain, and his men reached Fort Hays, they soon would part ways. Then it would be up to her to set aside her schoolgirl infatuation and carry on with her life.
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Chapter 22
~o0o~
A s she walked next to Marcus, a feeling of calm settled over Penelope. They had just descended the stairs leading from the kitchen to the outside. They now strolled along the wide, rock-lined trench that circled Monument Station and served as both a rifle pit and protection for the coaches upon arrival and departure. When he extended his elbow toward her, she slid her hand through until it rested on his forearm.
As it turned out, she did not bring Jeremy with them. Pvt. Samuels, along with the three recuperating soldiers, offered to watch him.
While wearing a grin, Pvt. Samuels offered his assurance. “The men feeling better and getting restless, missus. Having the boy around helps ease the boredom.”
Penelope glanced at the sky bearing its first hints of the coming dusk. She leaned forward and turned her head to see the unlit lantern in his free hand. “Do you expect it to be too dark to see before we return?”
Marcus lifted the lantern and glanced at it before he dropped his hand once more. “I don’t know if it will be dark enough to need this when we return or not. However, I thought I would show you one of the buildings where they quarter the soldiers. I trust you saw the roofs of the dugouts either from the stagecoach, when you arrived, or from the front window.”
“I did. We don’t have many dugouts in Lawrence unless you count cellars. I don’t know what I found most unusual about them—the windows just above the ground or the squatty stone chimneys.”
“Windows do let in light, but they also serve as gun ports. I rather imagine, when Monument Station comes under attack, the soldiers use those openings to engage the enemy. There’s also the underground stables and storage area for the hay and forage. They protect the livestock and feed.” Marcus shook his head. “Springfield, Illinois, where I come from, doesn’t have dugouts. Since I came to the Kansas frontier, I’ve seen more of them than I have stone or wood buildings.”
“What I haven’t figured out is how to get inside them. I didn’t see any doors.”
“Tunnels, Mrs. Humphry, like the one we’re about to enter.” Marcus lifted the lantern hand and gestured toward a gaping hole in the wall of the trench. “Hence, the lantern.”
As she stared at the opening to what appeared to be a black pit leading to hell, Penelope’s eyes widened. Her feet stopped moving, and she felt her body begin to tremble from the top of her head to her feet. Her mouth went dry. Her heart began pounding, and she gulped for air, already feeling the pit begin to crush the life out of her.
“Mrs. Humphry, are you all right?”
Thro
ugh the haze of her misery, Penelope heard Marcus’s voice. It sounded as if it came from a distance away and echoed across the plains. She turned to him. “I’m sorry. What?”
Marcus set the lantern on the ground. Sliding his arm free of her hand, he placed both of his palms on her upper arms and turned her so they faced each other. He stared into her eyes. “Mrs. Humphry, what is the matter?”
Penelope licked her lips. She jerkily eased her head until her gaze focused again on what struck her as being the yawning jaws of the great abyss. “I’ll-I’ll be fine, Captain. It’s just that…I don’t do well in dark, confined spaces.”
“Do you have claustrophobia?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t always been this way.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Only since the bushwhackers came.”
“The bushwhackers? Where was this?”
Penelope inhaled deeply in an effort to calm her raging insides. “Lawrence. A little over four years ago.”
Marcus’s hands slid down her arms until he tightened them again just above her elbows.
“Lawrence. Yes, I recall you saying you’re from Lawrence, Kansas. You were caught in that raid?”
Penelope closed her eyes. “I was at home. My father owned a dry goods store in town, but we lived on a small farm barely into the country. When we heard all the gunfire and saw people running away from town, my mother hid me in the cellar. Actually, I was in a little cave dug into the side. My father called it his wine cellar. She pushed shelves with a solid back like a bookcase over the opening and left.” Penelope gulped in air before she continued. “I did have a candle, but when I heard men’s voices outside the cellar, I blew it out.”
“Did anyone find you?”
Penelope shook her head. “At least two men came into the cellar. When they opened the door, I saw slivers of light through the spaces between the boards. They were looking for James Lane.”
“General Lane? I understand he escaped.”
“He did. He hid in a cornfield, and Quantrill’s men never caught him. My mother also hid in a cornfield during the worst of it. We knew what could happen to the two of us if we were found.”
“Were you harmed? Don’t answer that, Mrs. Humphry, if you feel I’m being too personal.”
Penelope shook her head. “When they didn’t find Gen. Lane, the men quit the cellar.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I wished they left the door open. It was so dark in there.” She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Hours passed before my mother came for me. As it turned out, the raiders did not molest the women in Lawrence.” She pressed her eyes shut. “They just burned the city and killed the men.”
Silence hung in the air for several seconds.
Penelope opened her eyes and looked off to the side. “Quantrill’s men burned down my father’s store. My father and brother were among approximately one hundred and fifty men and older boys killed. My mother and I were left with half our family gone, outstanding invoices from the business, and no goods to sell. We still had the farm with the house, but no means of support. She started taking in laundry. It was difficult to find customers. So many people lost so much, and the widows did their own laundry.” She blew out a breath. “My mother was always a difficult woman to live with, but she was never the same after we lost my father and brother. No matter what I did, I couldn’t please her. After she became ill with cancer…” She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the ground.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Humphry. I’ve seen many ugly things because of that war. However, I was fortunate not to lose close family members.”
Penelope lifted her head and offered a wistful smile. “At least, Jeremy, my son’s father, was not there. His father owned a business two doors down from ours. We knew each other from school, of course, but fell in love when he was seventeen and I was sixteen. He turned eighteen the May before the attack on Lawrence and enlisted. The war saved his life.” Her voice trailed off. “At least, for a few years.”
“But he returned?”
Forcing a smile, Penelope nodded. “We married soon after he was mustered out and came home.” She felt her smile fade. “He wasn’t the same. He was never seriously wounded, but he was sick much of the time. When he returned, he was…haunted. He would get angry over the least little thing. Then the next thing I knew, he didn’t care about anything.”
“I’m afraid many men returned in that condition, Mrs. Humphry.” Marcus sucked in a breath and scratched his temple. “Truth be told, I’ve experienced a little of what you described myself.”
“I’m sorry. I admit, I don’t understand it.”
“I don’t think any of us understand it fully.”
“All I know is, he wasn’t the same man I knew before he left to fight in the war. He caught pneumonia and died the winter after he came home. We’d only known for a short time I was carrying our child.”
“I can see why you decided to leave Lawrence.”
Penelope gave a sardonic laugh. “It was more than that. To pay off our debts, my mother sold our farm to our neighbor. Before she became too sick, she was the one who corresponded with men on my behalf. I took over, but insisted I must complete my period of mourning before a new marriage. I wanted Jeremy born so he would have his father’s name, not that of a new husband. I also didn’t wish to leave my mother in her condition.”
“Commendable, Mrs. Humphry.”
Penelope shook her head. “Most men stopped writing. I was desperate. My neighbor allowed me to stay in the house until several months after Ma died while I searched for a new husband. After Mr. Layton and I came to an agreement, the cholera epidemic broke out. I remained until I was sure it had passed. And now, I’m here.”
“Yes, you are. I, for one, am grateful to have met you, Mrs. Humphry.”
“Captain, I know you wished to discuss something with me, not hear my sad story.” She glanced toward the dark cavern. “If you can promise me you will turn the lantern up at bright as it will go, I would like to try the tunnel.
“Of course. I suspect your fear of tunnels and enclosed dark spaces stems from the same type of response to fear and anxiety soldiers experience. I’ll keep the lantern as bright as I can. Anytime you wish to turn back, you only need to say so.” After Marcus lit the lantern and adjusted the wick, he offered Penelope his arm once more.
Penelope again slipped her hand on his forearm and turned toward the mouth of the tunnel. Instinctively, she stepped closer to Marcus. I can do this.
Marcus pressed his arm against his side, pulling Penelope even tighter against him. He held the lantern at shoulder level in front of them.
Expressionless, Penelope stared straight ahead as they walked. As they entered the first part of the tunnel, she barely noticed the details of tool marks against the hard prairie soil on the sides and ceiling. Her entire awareness centered on the places where her body connected with Marcus.
It was only after they came to the end of the first tunnel and she saw light ahead of her that she realized how shallow her breathing had been.
Marcus raised his voice. “Captain Garrett, here, and I have a lady with me. May I have permission to enter?”
Penelope listened to rustling sounds and the murmurs of several voices.
Lantern in hand, the face of a black soldier with sergeant stripes on his sleeve stepped into the opening and saluted. “Evening, Captain.” His eyes darted between Marcus and Penelope. “You welcome to enter, suh.”
“Thank you, Sergeant, I’d return your salute, but I’d rather not release the lady’s arm just yet.” Marcus led Penelope into the room with more bedrolls on the ground than men standing next to them. The infantrymen of the 38th present in the room stood at attention, although a few were in stockinged feet and one or two still struggled to get their braces on their shoulders over their shirts.
“Please feel free to put your men at ease, Sergeant. I hope I have not intruded. I just wished to quickly show Mrs. Humphry what the inside of your barracks look like.”
“Yes, suh.” He turned to the others in the room. “At ease, men.”
Penelope now stood in a more open room with the evening light pouring in through several openings. Although their stances were more relaxed, she noticed most of the mem watched her and Marcus with curiosity. We must be providing a diversion for them. She studied the dirt walls cut into the ground. About a third of the way up, rough-cut stone blocks completed the walls to the roofline.
Marcus pointed to the row of windows just beneath the low roofline. “Am I correct, Sergeant, that you not only use those for light and ventilation, but also for gun ports when the need arises?”
“Yes, suh. When it gets cold, we cover them with wood or buffalo hide.” He turned and pointed to a stone fireplace in the opposite corner. “We have that for keeping warm, too, suh, plus to cook our rations.”
“Thank you. I don’t see the men who came as part of my medical escort. Are they in the next room?”
“Yes, suh. One of them got a brother here at Monument. They been spending time together, suh.”
“Good. I won’t disturb them. I already told their corporal we’ll be leaving in the morning. Thank you, Sergeant, and my apologies to your men for the inconvenience. I plan to show Mrs. Humphry the corral now.”
“No inconvenience, suh. Happy to have you.” The sergeant stepped forward and pointed to a spot a few feet behind Marcus and Penelope. “Walk back a few feet and turn left, suh. Take you right there.”
Penelope smiled and nodded farewell to the sergeant. She next gripped Marcus’s arm as he turned them about and they entered the darkness of the tunnel once more. As promised by the sergeant, several feet into the darkness of the tunnel, the light from the lantern revealed another tunnel branching off to their left. As they turned to walk down the second tunnel, she kept her gaze focused where the light illuminated the way.