Holding the Fort

by Regina Jennings

  Frustrated that the troopers hadn’t allowed them to enact their own justice, the Dog Soldiers refused to allow their people to participate in the yearly census of the tribe. They stood outside the agency office to scare away anyone who thought to cooperate with Agent Dyer’s mandate.

  Now there was more trouble, but this time with the cattle, not ponies. And Bradley had been chosen for the small band that would protect the fort’s interpreter as he tried to get an accurate report on the goings-on.

  Were these the ones who’d stolen the cattle from the trail drivers? Lieutenant Hennessey chatted amiably with them through Ben Clark. If they didn’t speak English, then they hadn’t attended the Arapaho school at Darlington, which could mean they were troublemakers. Or it could mean that they didn’t see much sense in sitting at a desk when they could be riding the prairie.

  Bradley understood that only too well.

  He hadn’t missed going to school growing up, but Louisa had. Once she’d found a schoolbook buried in mud behind the saloon after a big rain. She’d saved every page she could and pored over them night after night, trying to learn anything she could from the smeared words. Bradley had felt sorry for her even then. She was made for something better, whereas he didn’t figure he’d ever amount to much. Luckily for him, the cavalry was looking for poor boys with no education to ship off to the dangerous frontier.

  He’d thought he was brave, riding out with other soldiers, armed to the teeth, but his sister was playing a much more dangerous game. What made Louisa think she could fool a man like Major Adams into thinking she was one of his set? Didn’t she know how likely she was to get hurt? Louisa had always longed for a respectable life for both of them. No wonder she’d jumped at the chance to play like she was a lady, if only for a few weeks. As long as she didn’t ruin his chances at a career in the cavalry.

  His grip loosened as Clark and Hennessey finished their questioning, and his fellow men-at-arms began to breathe easier. These Arapaho men weren’t interested in taking up the Cheyenne’s grievances. They were worried about the decreasing rations and wanted more protection from the Cheyenne Dog Soldiers, but they posed no threat to Darlington or the fort. While Bradley could feel a twinge of disappointment that there’d be no excitement today, he could also appreciate the fact that he would go to bed tonight with no new holes poked through his hide.

  They fell into their lines, riding across the vast Cheyenne and Arapaho Reservation. Bradley had never regretted anything before. His stunts had consequences, but what was life, if you didn’t drink it to the lees? But seeing Louisa with those girls, seeing her walking on his major’s arm, he realized what his sister had missed out on. Who would marry Lovely Lola from the Cat-Eye Saloon? Not a decent man like the major. Who would treat her like the fine lady she secretly hoped to be someday?

  Bradley slumped in the saddle. Big sisters could rile you up like the dickens, but Louisa had been there for him when he needed her. All those years that she preached at him to straighten up and make something of himself, she hadn’t done it just to ruin his fun. She’d done it because she was trapped and didn’t want the same life for him.

  And he hadn’t listened to her.

  Bradley studied the horizon, feeling a sudden urge to spur his horse and flee the thoughts that were settling on him like a biting cloud of mosquitoes. Thoughts like how he should be responsible. Thoughts like how he should be trying to settle down and make something of himself. Thoughts like how he owed his sister that much at least. No matter how fast he ran, Bradley feared that when he slowed down, he’d remember that he could’ve been a better man.

  He’d try for her. He’d be the best soldier at the fort if it meant Louisa got a shot at being a respectable lady and all. Maybe she’d read enough schoolbooks to keep her job as a governess. Wouldn’t that be something? What if the major decided that he needed her at the house permanently? What if he decided . . .

  A grin spread over Bradley’s face. The major was a widower. No wife. Louisa was uncommonly beautiful. He’d seen the way the major had glared at him when he ran into them on the way to Darlington. That was jealousy, or he was a parson.

  Adventures didn’t always mean risking your neck by getting liquored up and standing in the saddle. Sometimes you could take on a challenge closer to home.

  But a challenge was already coming at him.

  Two riders thundered toward them from the west, their bodies curved and sticking to their horses as close as a sandbur.

  Clark cast a nervous glance at Hennessey. Even with a bandanna in the way, Bradley saw his Adam’s apple jog.

  “There are only two of them,” Lieutenant Hennessey said. But he didn’t look like their armed group of five reassured him one bit.

  Clark lifted his hand. “It’s Coyote and White Horse. They’re looking for us.”

  Sure enough, the riders’ horses pulled up, stiffening their front legs and nearly sitting back on their haunches as their cloud of dust caught up and coated them.

  The conversation was short and tense. Then the horses were spurred again, and the two men raced toward the settlement of Darlington.

  “We gotta get out of here.” Clark looked at Hennessey. “You’re in command, but if you want us to stay, I’m turning in my resignation.”

  Hennessey studied the western horizon. Bradley did too, but the only thing that met his eyes was the grass snapping beneath the constant wind and a stack of white clouds towering to the heavens.

  “What is it?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Six or seven hundred Cheyenne warriors are headed this way, led by Old Crow. Coyote and White Horse are going to Darlington to warn Agent Dyer and the others.” Clark’s horse shook a fly out of its ear.

  “Old Crow is on the warpath?”

  “And us at an empty fort,” Clark answered.

  No more words were needed. The men turned their horses toward the unguarded, unprepared fort and prayed for the employees at the agency as they rode to raise the alarm.

  With the girls busy working on their school assignments, Louisa had returned to her sewing. Taking a last stitch, she flipped Caroline’s dress over, tied off the thread, and then bit it off short. She rustled through the cloth, turning it right-side out, then held it up at arm’s length to appreciate her handiwork.

  The apple-green dress was cut modestly enough for the daughter of a major in the U.S. Cavalry, but she’d added enough trim and ribbon from her own retired wardrobe that no one would mistake Caroline for a governess herself. Louisa ran her finger over the collar. She hoped it wasn’t too showy, but she’d been limited as to what she could salvage from her clothing, and goodness knew the shop at Darlington didn’t offer any frivolities.

  “Caroline, come try it on.”

  Above her head, someone squealed. Boot heels pounded down the hallway and then the stairs. Perhaps Louisa shouldn’t encourage Caroline to look more fetching. She was already attracting too much attention. Still uncertain what to do with the swain’s letter, Louisa had stuffed it into her sheet music until she had a chance to ask Bradley about it.

  Without breaking stride, Caroline swept through the parlor, snatched the dress from Louisa’s hands, and hurried back upstairs, nearly plowing down her sister, who was on her heels.

  “How about mine?” Daisy’s eyes were shining. “I’m almost done with my arithmetic.”

  Louisa scratched at her wrist. If she never saw another column of sums, she’d die a happy woman. Daisy was proving to be a quick study, which meant Louisa had to stay up late each night to keep ahead of her.

  “Good, then it’s time for your spelling exam. But first you may try this on.” She pulled Daisy’s gown out from behind her. She’d been working on it between lessons and finally had the Indian beadwork added.

  Daisy spotted it immediately. Her mouth made a perfect O, and she ran her fingers over the beaded design that adorned the cuffs. “It’s beautiful. And it looks like a proper dress, so even Grandmother couldn’t complain.”
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  From what Louisa had heard, Grandmother was capable of complaining about anything, but far be it from her to say that.

  “Go try it on, and then we’ll see if you can spell anything while wearing it.”

  Daisy was a sweetheart. Although Louisa wasn’t quite old enough to have a daughter that age, Daisy brought out every nurturing instinct she possessed. Louisa always found excuses to smooth her hair, clean her face, or share with her some intricate flower or bright butterfly to make her beam. And she smiled so easily. Joy—that was Daisy.

  Joy didn’t come as easily for Caroline. Old enough to remember her mother and feel the loss, Caroline struggled to find her place in the world. She strained at the ties that kept her bound to the family, but had no idea what to do when free. And the frustration she felt, she attributed to her father.

  Then there was Major Adams. Daniel. Initially Louisa had viewed him only through his relationship with his daughters. She judged him either as the antagonist to her brother or as the stern disciplinarian to the girls. Now she saw him as a man who doubted his ability to raise the girls alone. He’d been too proud to ask for help until his mother-in-law forced his hand. But if Louisa wasn’t mistaken, he felt that hiring her had been the perfect solution to his problem.

  It pleased her that she pleased him.

  The front door opened. Louisa smiled at the sound of his familiar step. The girls heard him, too.

  “Pa, look!” Daisy cried. “Look at my new dress!”

  Louisa rose to meet them at the foot of the stairs. Daniel whistled. “Don’t you look beautiful!” His eyes shone warmly and held their warmth as he smiled at Louisa in appreciation. “Is that Indian beadwork?” He bent forward to look at the sleeve Daisy offered him. “That is perfect for you, honey.”

  His eyes caught Louisa’s. You are amazing, he mouthed over Daisy’s head. Louisa felt like dancing, just like Daisy was.

  “Ahem!”

  All eyes rose to look at Caroline, who descended the staircase like a debutante at a ball . . . or like Louisa when singing the part of Venus. Oh, the power of a simple dress to turn a girl into a refined young lady. Louisa’s heart swelled with pride.

  Daniel must have felt the same way. “You look stunning, Caroline. So much like your mother.” Had his eyes grown misty? Louisa yearned to reach out to him, but this moment was between him, his daughter, and a memory she had no part in.

  Caroline glowed. She turned slowly to show off the dress. Even Louisa was impressed with her handiwork.

  She supposed they’d just stand there and admire Caroline forever, but Daniel was looking at her. “What about your masterpiece? Didn’t you finish one for yourself?”

  “The girls needed theirs more than I do. Until I get it finished, I’ll keep wearing what I have.”

  “When her new dress is finished, we can have a dance!” Daisy cheered. “Miss Bell painted a picture of a dance—”

  “Forget about the picture,” Louisa interrupted. “If your father could arrange for a ball with the troopers—”

  But the stern commander was back. “Absolutely not. I will not offer my girls up as dancing partners to a hundred lonely men.”

  “Then maybe there’s another venue to show off your dresses. Are there any social events around here? At Darlington, perhaps?”

  “There are powwows,” Daisy said.

  Powwows weren’t exactly the kind of dance Louisa was looking for. “What about here on the fort?” she asked.

  Caroline’s face lit with hopeful joy while her father’s brow lowered.

  “If there were enough officers’ families here, we might could have a dance, but the fort is nearly empty. The boys put on shows to entertain themselves all the time. Nearly every company has a band of some kind. For the most part, I’ve done my best to keep the girls away from those events.”

  “But we can hear them when the windows are open,” Caroline said. “The band is really good, and someone can play the piano.”

  “There’s a piano?” Louisa’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know there was a piano here.”

  “In the upstairs of the commissary,” Daisy said. “Do you play?”

  “Well enough to accompany my students.” Louisa hugged Daisy to her side. “Wouldn’t you like to practice your French with music?”

  “You taught them the French?” Daniel cocked his head and fixed her with a stern gaze.

  “Italian,” Louisa corrected. “I taught them a few songs in Italian.” She scratched her brow. “Do you speak Italian?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Perfect!” she said.

  The girls’ enthusiasm was contagious, but they held it in check as they waited for their father’s response.

  “If I could arrange for you to have the room to yourselves daily, would you want to practice with the girls in there?” he asked.

  The girls erupted in squeals. Daisy jumped into Caroline’s arms, and Caroline swung her around.

  “That would be marvelous,” Louisa said over their cheers.

  “Would you sing?” he asked quietly.

  His posture was casual as he leaned against the banister, his uniform straining across his shoulders, but something in his eyes showed that there was more at stake.

  “Me, sing?” Louisa had performed under trying circumstances before. She’d sung a lighthearted song about a riverboat on the Mississippi while her mother was dying in her back room. She’d cried over a fictional lost lover on stage while she was secretly seething over a drunk’s treatment of her and swearing that she’d never speak to a man again. She’d had practice making her face convey emotions that her heart knew were false. That was what she relied on now. “You want me to sing? I would be embarrassed to sing for you, Major Adams.”

  Beg me. Beg me to sing, she silently pleaded. He’d seen her at her worst. He’d seen her mistakes. He saw her poor attempts to teach math and writing. And then the horse . . . she could barely walk after that. If only she could sing for him—the one talent she had, besides beating him at chess.

  Daisy was fidgeting, wanting her father’s attention for herself, but he was still watching Louisa. Did he see the truth? Did he see how badly she wanted to perform for him?

  “It would embarrass you?” A fine wrinkle appeared on his forehead as he gazed at her. “Are you afraid I’d find your performance unladylike?”

  She ran her fingers over the banister. Why didn’t she just give in and do it? He was asking. How could he disapprove if she accepted?

  Because in her experience, men often asked women to do things that they knew were wrong. She had to be above reproach. She conjured a vision of Mrs. Townsend in all her Mennonite modesty. Would she sing a popular tune for her widower employer? Absolutely not!

  “You’ll do very well without me performing.”

  “But you’re teaching my daughters to sing. Why is that different?”

  Louisa shot a glance at the girls. Worry clouded their eyes at the thought that their new gowns might go unappreciated.

  “In general, for a woman to sing on stage—”

  Daniel held up a hand to stop her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I meant only to practice in private. We’re talking family entertainment. No one said anything about singing on a stage.” He shook his head in amusement. “It’s not as if I’m going to dress my innocent daughters up in velvets and parade them on a stage in front of a crowd of rowdy men.”

  Louisa’s mouth went dry. “Of course not,” she stammered. “That would be . . .” Disgraceful? Indecent? All of those words referred to her.

  “Father, that’s not fair,” Caroline said. “Grandmother said there are events where society meets and the young ladies perform their skills. They’re called sorties, and they are a legitimate method of gaining a young man’s attention.”

  “Sorties are attacks made by a small group of soldiers.” He rolled his eyes. “Is there any hope for my daughters raised on a fort? What I think you meant to say is a soiree, unless you were planning
an ambush in the midst of your performance.”

  Daisy let loose one of her blood-curdling war whoops.

  “Great Saturn’s rings!” Louisa blurted and grabbed Daniel’s sleeve.

  Daniel covered Louisa’s hand with his own while choking on shocked laughter. She guessed a lady didn’t utter oaths aimed at the heavens. She made to pull her hand out of his grip before the girls noticed, but he held her fast.

  “Daisy, you startled Miss Bell. Tell her you’re sorry, and no more screeching in the house.”

  Daisy flicked at the beaded fringe on the end of her belt. “Sorry, Miss Bell. I just got excited thinking how fun it’d be to attack all the soldiers while they were busy watching Caroline sing. I can sneak around as silent as a brave. I bet I could get to half a dozen before anyone noticed.”

  “Daisy must learn how to sing,” Caroline said. “She should be good at something besides frightening the starch out of people. And I need an audience to practice on before I meet grandmother’s friends. I wouldn’t want them to think me amateurish.”

  “I wouldn’t want them to think you professional,” Daniel shot back. He smiled at Louisa as if he expected her to share his joke. If that was the response he was looking for, he was disappointed.

  Louisa was still trying to think of an answer when she heard raised voices.

  “What are they cheering?” she asked.

  But Daniel didn’t answer. He rushed to the door, flung it open, and settled his hat on his head as he marched outside.

  When he slammed the door behind him, the whole house shook. What had happened?

  Only later did Louisa realize that it was the boom of the cannon that had rattled the windowpanes.

  Chapter Eighteen