“It is perfectly understandable you’d be upset. But Orion will be here to keep you company and you’ll have tea with Mrs. Gray and you’ll be fine.”
Thomas spoke to her in the tone he always used: quiet, reassuring, almost fatherly. It had always calmed her fears before and made her feel protected by his strength. This morning, however, it was only adding to her irritability. She knew she was being irrational, for he was only being the Thomas she had loved and relied on all these years. But she didn’t want his quiet tolerance of her fear. She didn’t want him soothing her like a fearful child. She wanted…she didn’t know what she wanted from him, she realized.
She was annoyed at herself for her extreme reaction and annoyed at him for not seeing that it really wasn’t extreme. Any woman would be worried about her husband going on such a patrol. And just because she was feeling vulnerable didn’t mean she was going to fall apart.
Thomas pushed himself away from the table, saying, “It is time I must be going, Elizabeth.”
“I know, Thomas. I will be fine. Truly I will,” she reassured him. She followed him to the door and held his jacket for him as she had so many times before.
“Elizabeth, you feed me too well. You’ll have to let this jacket out when I come home,” he joked as he struggled with the buttons.
Elizabeth put her hands on his chest and he pulled her into his arms.
“Don’t worry, Elizabeth. I’ll be home safe and sound as always.”
“I know, Thomas. I’m just being silly. Now go, before your men start wondering where you are.”
He ran down the steps and she watched him quick march down the line. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he turned back and waved to her. She blew him a kiss and then went back inside. She had dishes to wash, bread to bake, and a stack of mending that should keep her busy. If she could get through today, she thought, she would be all right.
* * * *
Two days before the supply escort was to leave, Michael had been summoned to Lieutenant Cooper’s quarters.
“Colonel Gray has informed me that two of Mr. Woolcott’s men are down with dysentery. He requested you be assigned to the lieutenant with a man of your choice,” said Cooper coolly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Whom will you choose, Burke?”
“Em, Mahoney has the potential for becoming a fine soldier, sir, but he could use a little seasoning.”
“All right then, Sergeant, inform Private Mahoney. And, Burke….”
“Yes, sir?”
“You’ll be back on wood detail as soon as this is over.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * * *
Michael had decided to ride Frost. The mare was restless in the cool morning air and Michael had to keep her on a tight rein as they headed out of the fort.
“That mare looks ready for another race, sir.” Mahoney grinned. He was riding next to Michael and his gelding was merely plodding along.
“ ‘Tis the cooler weather that makes her full of fire,” replied Michael.
“She’s a fine animal.”
“That she is, Mahoney.”
Frost settled down soon enough and their first day’s ride was a fairly easy one. They would meet the supply wagons by morning and had seen no sign of anyone, Navajo or New Mexican.
They reached the rendezvous point, a small group of cottonwoods by a stream, early the next day and the lieutenant let them dismount and relax. When two hours went by, however, with no sign of the supply wagons, Lieutenant Woolcott called Michael over to him.
“Sergeant Burke, I’m worried about the supply train. The quartermaster is always on time, within a quarter hour.”
Michael nodded. “What are ye thinking, sir?”
“I’m thinking it could be as simple as an axle breaking or a mule going lame….” Thomas’s voice trailed off.
“ ‘Tis possible.”
“Or they could have been attacked. It has never happened before, but with a band of renegades on the loose….” Thomas took a deep breath. “You have the reputation for being a good scout, Burke. I’m glad you rode that big horse of yours. She’s fast and strong, from what I’ve seen at the races,” Thomas said with a smile.
“She is that, sir.”
“I’d like you to scout ahead for me.” Thomas hesitated. “Ride about an hour and see if you come upon any sign of the wagons. If you don’t, then turn around and come back.”
“And if I do catch up with them?”
“Report back in any case, Sergeant Burke.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And watch out for yourself, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Michael set out at a slow, steady canter. He had always enjoyed his scouting, because it gave him a chance to be alone, and that was a rare treat in the army. After fifteen minutes, he walked Frost and then kicked her into a ground-eating trot. The mare would be able to keep the pace up for about a half hour.
It was only fifteen minutes later that he saw them. One wagon was overturned and the other three had been drawn into a semicircle next to it.
“Día,” he whispered and pulled the mare to a walk. He couldn’t see any signs of life. He walked the mare slowly, his reins in one hand, his rifle in the other.
He heard a low, constant moaning and, dismounting carefully, he led Frost over to the wagons.
There were two enlisted men lying there. They were dead, one with an arrow through his throat, the other shot in the chest. The moaning was coming from behind one of the wagons, and Michael walked over carefully. The Diné usually took their wounded with them, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
But it was a soldier, propped up against a wheel, his hand holding a cocked pistol balanced on his knee.
“Easy, boyo,” said Michael as the man turned at the sound of his feet.
Blood was puddled under the boy’s outstretched leg and as he shifted to face Michael, he let out a loud groan.
Michael knelt down next to him and saw that he had been shot through the knee with a rifle. Shattered, he thought. This lad won’t be riding again. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lose the leg.
“What happened, lad?”
The hand holding the pistol relaxed. “It was a good-sized band, about twenty or so. On their way back from a raid. They had two women with them. I don’t think they planned to attack us, just took advantage of the opportunity.”
“Where are the rest of your party?”
“The master sergeant headed back to Albuquerque for help.”
“You are a brave lad, then, to be guarding the wagons on your own.”
The boy licked his cracked lips. “Do you have any water, sir?”
“Sure, and what have I been thinking, chatting away like I’m at a tea party,” Michael joked. “I’ll be right back.”
He got his canteen and kneeling down again beside the boy, gave him a few sips.
“More,” the boy pleaded, his hands reaching for Michael’s.
“In a minute, lad.”
After a few more swallows, the boy closed his eyes and relaxed his head back against the wheel.
“I am going to have to leave you, Private.”
The boy’s eyes flew open and he started to protest.
“I’d take you with me, was it your arm shattered. But you shouldn’t be moved with that leg. But I’ll leave ye my canteen. Ye must promise to drink sparingly, for ye’ll have to hold out till I come back with the escort or your sergeant brings help.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael patted him gently on the arm. “Ye’ll be fine, lad. They’ll not come back. Ye’ve got some water and ye’re in the shadow of the wagon, at least.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be fine sir,” said the boy, as if repeating Michael’s words would make them be true.
“Well, then, I must be leavin’ ye.”
He mounted Frost and headed back toward Lieutenant Woolcott. He had seen no sign of the Diné. Of course, they were very good at ke
eping out of sight. But if they turned south at all they would ran right into the escort.
Frost was eager to get away from the smell of blood and the flies buzzing around the dead bodies. “No ye don’t, darlin’,” he said, holding her back. “I’m as eager as ye are but we can’t be stupid either.”
It seemed to take forever to reach the little grove of cottonwoods and when he finally got there, it was to find only half the detail.
“Where is Mr. Woolcott?” he demanded as he slid off his horse.
“A band of them savages passed right by us. They were as surprised to see us as we were to see them,” the trooper added, nodding his satisfaction. “They took off like bats out of hell and the lieutenant took off after them. One of them was wearing a cavalry cap and leading two army shavetails loaded with supplies. We figured they’d gotten the wagons and maybe even you.”
“And the lieutenant’s orders?”
“To wait here until evening and if he wasn’t back, to return to the fort.”
Michael looked around. “Did Mahoney go with him?”
“The mick kid? Yup, he volunteered.”
Lieutenant Woolcott had only half the men the Diné had, thought Michael. But maybe the Diné would just run. Maybe they would do their usual disappearing act. Maybe the lieutenant would just turn back. Goddamn all renegades to hell, thought Michael as he led Frost down to the little stream.
* * * *
It was close to sundown when he saw the dust of the approaching riders. There were nine horses, not ten, and Michael could see that one was carrying double. Please God, ‘tisn’t Mahoney down, he found himself praying, surprised at how much he would miss the lad.
It wasn’t Mahoney down, he saw, but Mahoney in the lead with the lieutenant slumped in front of him. The boy’s eyes widened with relief when he saw Michael.
“He’s been gut-shot, Sergeant Burke. I think he’s still alive, but just barely.”
“Over here,” barked Michael to one of the men. “Help me with him.”
Thomas Woolcott was a heavy man and it was hard taking him down gently. Michael barked orders, “Spread a few blankets out. Fill a canteen,” as he carried the lieutenant to the most level spot he could find.
Mahoney had ripped apart Woolcott’s jacket and bound him with it. It was soaked in blood, but Michael was afraid to loosen it. Tell the truth, boyo, ye’re afraid to look. He had seen men on the battlefield with their guts hanging out. He had even watched an army surgeon fold them back in again and sew a man up. He had been ordered to hold the lantern and it was lucky the tent didn’t go up in flames when he’d fainted.
He laid Woolcott on top of one of the blankets and spread the other over him. He pulled off his own neckerchief and, soaking it in water, cleaned the lieutenant’s face off.
“Is he all right, sir. He saved our lives,” Mahoney choked out.
“What happened, lad?”
“The Indians turned into a small canyon. He insisted on taking Private Black and going in first. Some of the Indians had stayed behind in ambush and started shooting from the rocks. We went in after him, but Black was already dead and the lieutenant wounded.”
“How did ye get him out?”
Mahoney dropped his head. “I had the men cover me,” he said in a low voice, “and I rode in after him. I couldn’t leave him there.”
Michael patted his arm. “No, you couldn’t leave him there. Ye’ve turned into a fine soldier.”
Thomas groaned and Michael lifted his head.
“Water,” he whispered.
“I don’t think ye should be drinking, sir,” said Michael. He poured more water on his neckerchief and lifted it to Thomas’s lips. “Here, sir, this will keep ye from dryin’ out.”
“That’s Burke, isn’t it? The wagons?”
“Whist, Mr. Woolcott. Ye mustn’t be talking. Some of the supplies gone and two men dead, sir. Their sergeant turned back to Albuquerque for help. I guess he was afraid to follow the Navajo.”
“Mahoney?” whispered Thomas.
“Right here, sir.”
“You are a good soldier, Private Mahoney. Be sure you recommend him to the colonel, Burke.”
“Sure and ye’ll be recommending him yerself.”
Thomas shook his head and attempted a smile, which turned into a grimace as a wave of pain hit him.
Michael wet his lips again.
“Burke….”
“Yes, sir.”
“Elizabeth….”
“Yes, sir?” Dear Mother Mary, the man couldn’t die, not like this. Not and leave her alone again.
“Tell her…she’s made me very happy…very happy. And, Burke?”
Thomas’s voice was so weak that Michael had to put his head down next to his lips.
“Tell her I died fast and easy.”
Michael reached out and took Thomas’s hand. He squeezed it gently and said, “I will, sir.”
“Thank you, Burke. You are a good man. I always said so.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thomas Woolcott did not die slowly or easily. The only blessing, thought Michael, was that he lost consciousness around midnight.
“You need some sleep, Sergeant Burke,” said Mahoney as they sat with him. “I can stay with him for a while.”
“No, lad, ye get yerself some sleep.” Michael kept his vigil, regularly moistening Thomas’s lips with his makeshift sponge. Even unconscious, the man’s mouth sought the water eagerly, and he knew that he was giving the dying man the only small comfort he could.
It was just before dawn that he slipped away. Michael had just brushed his lips again, but instead of sucking at the cloth they relaxed open and with one sigh, Thomas Wood was released into death.
Michael ran his hand down Thomas’s face to close his eyes and pulled the blanket over him. He stood up slowly, stiff and aching from the long night. The sun was coming up, lighting the ocher and pink rocks around them with the clear light so characteristic of the country. It was going to be a beautiful day, he thought: crisp, cool, and clear, but Mr. Woolcott would not be seein’ it. He crossed himself and murmured a Hail Mary. “And pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”
Mahoney stumbled over, barely awake. The boy took in the lieutenant’s shrouded body.
“When did he die, Sergeant Burke?”
“Just a little while ago, Mahoney.”
Mahoney wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “It should have been me lying there, sir. If he hadn’t gone first into that ambush…. He saved our lives.”
“It shouldn’t be anyone at all down there, lad,” said Michael, putting his arm around Mahoney’s shoulders. “Ye went after him.”
“But he is dead, sir.”
“Had he only been wounded in the shoulder, he would have lived because of you, Mahoney. Don’t be forgetting that.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy whispered.
Michael stood silently for a few minutes. He had a handful of men, a dead officer, and a wounded boy back at the wagons. He wanted to bring the lieutenant back himself, he wanted to be the one to break the news to Elizabeth, to be there for her. But he couldn’t send anyone else back to the wagons. He had promised that boy someone would be back for him.
“Mahoney, I’m putting half the men under your command. Ye’ll take the lieutenant’s body back to the fort.”
“You’re not going after them?” the boy protested.
“No, but there is a lad close to your age lying by the wagons and the rest of the supplies with him. I have to get them to the fort.”
They wrapped Thomas’s body in another blanket, tied it with rawhide, and slung it over one of the horses. “Two of ye ride double, lads,” ordered Michael.
“Yes, sir.”
Michael put his hand on Mahoney’s knee when the boy was mounted. “Mahoney,” he said. “I promised Mr. Woolcott something and ye’ll have to help me keep my promise.”
“Sir?”
“Tell Mrs. Woolcott he die
d quickly and with very little suffering.”
Mahoney frowned. “ ‘Twas his last wish,” Michael said persuasively.
“All right, sir.”
Michael patted his knee. “Good lad.”
Michael saw them off and then, mounting Frost, he waved the rest of the men to follow him.
When they got to the supply wagons, there was no sign of the Navajo’s return. The young private was unconscious, Michael’s canteen lying empty next to him.
“He was lucky to pass out. Get him into one of the wagons, Private Stanton. Gently now, be careful of that leg.”
There were only six mules left, so Michael consolidated what was left of the supplies into one wagon and onto the backs of two mules.
“We’ve got about everything, sir,” said Private Stanton.
“Move them out then, men.”
It was after dark when they reached the fort, but they were obviously awaited, for the gates swung open as they approached. The colonel was standing in front of his headquarters and waved a summons to Michael, who walked Frost over to the railing and started to dismount.
“You must be exhausted, Burke. And your horse, too. Get yourself some food and settle your mount and then I’ll hear your report.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael turned Frost and walked her slowly down the line toward the stables. He couldn’t help turning his head as he passed the Woolcotts’ quarters. The lanterns were lit in the parlor and also in what he assumed was their bedroom and he could see a woman’s silhouette walking back and forth.
When he got to the stables, he rubbed Frost down slowly and carefully and after watering and feeding her, settled her down with a fervent “Thank you for gettin’ me back safely.”
He presented himself at the colonel’s half an hour later.
“Come in, Sergeant Burke, come in. Sit down, man. You must be tired.”
“A wee bit, sir,” Michael admitted as he sank gratefully into a chair.
“Tell me what happened, Sergeant.”
“We camped at the rendezvous, sir. In the morning, after waiting two hours past their expected time, Mr. Woolcott sent me ahead. I found the wagons had been attacked and two men dead. And a wounded lad, sir. How is he?” Michael asked.
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