Holding the Fort

by Regina Jennings

  “I want you to know that you are—”

  A tinny pop sounded from somewhere above his head. Was it the girls? No, it came from outside. Without hesitation, he pulled Louisa to his side. Were they under attack? Staying between her and the window, he turned his head, trying to isolate the sound. Another pop, and he knew it was coming from the back of the house. Where her room was.

  Her body tensed. She’d heard it, too, and they both knew it wasn’t the Cheyenne. Daniel looked out the dark window, but the only image that greeted him was the reflection of him holding Louisa. And her face was turned wistfully up and away, toward the staircase.

  “It’s getting late,” she said. “It’s time for me to retire.” She pulled away to gather her notebook and pencil. Daniel stood, arms crossed, as she bent to retrieve the measuring tape.

  A commander often had to squelch his emotions to lead fairly. The disappointment would come, and the anger, but not yet. Just because his vanity was hurt didn’t mean that he could ignore the danger she was in.

  “Miss Bell,” he said. Louisa straightened slowly, keeping her eyes down as she folded the tape into her hand. He chose his words carefully. “I want to let you know how much I appreciate your help during this emergency, and how much I admire the progress you are making with Caroline and Daisy. You are perfectly suited to this station, or at least to my reckoning, you are. Do you feel otherwise?”

  Pop! Another pebble thrown against her window. That idiot Willis. Who else would be so brazen when Daniel’s lamplight was shining in his office? He would deal with Willis later. First, he had to prevent Louisa from making a mistake that he could not ignore.

  “No, sir,” she answered. “I’m very grateful for my position here. I have no wish to find another.”

  The words were right, but her body shook as if ignoring the signal anguished her. At her distress, Daniel checked himself again. Could he be acting out of jealousy? But what other option did he have? Allow females under his protection to frolic at night with his troopers? It wasn’t an issue of vanity, but of decency. And as distasteful as it was to thwart a rival by pulling rank, Daniel had no choice.

  “As long as we understand each other,” he said.

  “We do, Major Adams. I won’t be downstairs again until breakfast. Good night.” And just like that, she disappeared into the dark of the hallway and up the stairs.

  Daniel made his way to the front door without stopping for a saber or a gun. He knew what lurked behind the woodpile, and he wouldn’t need anything but a few barked orders to deal with it, although he’d prefer to use his fists. At the noise of the door opening, there was a scramble in the darkness and then footsteps receding around the back of the house, no doubt racing to the barracks. Daniel waited on his porch until he saw a shadowed figure between the buildings on the adjacent side of the square. When it darted into the barracks door—left open to catch the summer’s night breeze—he knew that his household wouldn’t be interrupted again that night. He’d prevented his governess from behaving poorly.

  As an employer, he was satisfied. As a man, he was bitterly disappointed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Most of the trouble that Bradley had faced in his life, he’d brought on himself. Sure, he hadn’t asked to be born to the mother he’d been born to, and he hadn’t requested a pa who didn’t even stick around to lay eyes on his son’s sorry hide, but he could pretty much take credit for everything after that. He had a chip on his shoulder and a fire in his belly, and that didn’t make for a peaceable life, no matter how hard his sister tried to keep him on the straight and narrow.

  But this trouble wasn’t his fault. Didn’t he have enough to worry about, without his sister being at risk? In an honest-to-goodness attempt to protect her, he’d taken an extra pistol from the armory with plans to give it to her after everyone else had gone to sleep. No harm in her being prepared should they be overrun. But instead of finding her in her room where she ought to be, she was downstairs fraternizing with the major.

  Bradley slapped more whitewash on the fence. He should’ve known not to throw those rocks while Major Adams’s lamp was lit, but he’d thought the office was too far away for the major to hear some pebbles against her window. By the time Bradley realized his mistake, what had he seen? The major standing in front of the window with an arm around Louisa.

  If that didn’t beat all.

  Bradley scratched at his army-issued shirt and appreciated that the messiness of his fatigue duty allowed him to wear the lighter cotton today. If he’d been caught red-handed last night, he wouldn’t need to bother putting on that uniform again. As it was, the mere suspicion that he’d been out after curfew was enough to saddle him with the loathsome job of painting the eternal fence.

  Let that be a lesson to her. His sister thought Major Adams could be reasoned with—that he’d make exceptions for Bradley if she only asked. She didn’t understand military discipline. Neither did she understand that the major was completely besotted with her. His commanding officer had noticed the relationship between them, and just like a jealous lover, had been sending Bradley black looks ever since. Not that Bradley needed the attention. He’d already pushed his luck, and his sister and her meddling were going to be the death of him.

  And here she came now. Had she gone plumb loco? The extravagant plume on her hat was sure to attract the major’s attention. And if that wasn’t bad enough, trudging along at her side were the major’s older daughter, the one young enough and pretty enough to earn a firing squad over, and the little girl, swinging a basket with every step.

  Bradley jammed his brush into the pail of whitewash and slapped it against the fence again. He kept his head down as they approached, praying Louisa wasn’t up to what he thought she was up to.

  “Why are we crossing here?” the older daughter asked. “The fence is wet.”

  Louisa answered in her stage voice. “This is the area that I saw the flowers in. If we want to truly comprehend your botany text, we must have real specimens to examine.” Boy howdy. She was taking on this teacher role with a vengeance. “Besides, I don’t think this kind trooper will mind us troubling him for a minute. Maybe he’ll leave a dry patch for us to climb over.”

  It was a tad gratifying to see Caroline Adams fluster when she saw who he was. She would be trouble to someone, someday, but not as much trouble as his sister was.

  “Good day, ladies.” If he was walking the plank, he might as well be gallant about it. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go across this fence. Not while the fort is on alert.”

  Miss Adams touched the fence gingerly, testing it for paint. “But our persistent governess insists there’s something that can only be found on the other side.”

  Their governess? If Louisa wasn’t irritating him so much, he’d find the idea funny. “Your governess isn’t the boss here. It’s your pa, and I’d rather make Miss Bell angry than him.”

  Louisa’s brows had leveled into that warning look, but what could she say? For once in his life, he had the upper hand on his older sister.

  “Then we’ll have to find the flowers on this side of the fence,” Louisa grudgingly said.

  “Go look over yonder.” He waved the dripping brush toward the stables. “Just don’t go past the sentry. He’s there for a reason.”

  The little one wasn’t waiting. With her braids bouncing, she ran ahead through the high grass toward a patch of wildflowers.

  “Oh, Daisy,” Louisa said. “Caroline, run after her, please. Make sure she doesn’t go too far.”

  Bradley didn’t like the look he got from Caroline. It made him wonder if the whole household suspected him of ungentlemanly activities.

  “I wanted to get a weapon to you last night,” he hissed as soon as the girls were out of earshot. “Something you could protect yourself with. I don’t have it now, so move along.”

  “But I need your help,” she said, “or else someone is going to get in trouble.”

  “You mean like me, when yo
u get me discharged from the cavalry?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to be in his office that late, but I didn’t know you were coming. Sorry.” She pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve. “This is more important. I found this on the floor by the front door. Someone has been writing inappropriate letters to Caroline.”

  “You don’t think it’s me, do you? Even I’m not that thickskulled.”

  “Just look and tell me if you know who it is.”

  With a cautious look toward the adjutant’s office, Bradley opened the letter. Louisa was going to be the death of him. But then his eyes focused, and at first sight, Bradley knew what his older and wiser sister had missed.

  He couldn’t keep the giant grin off his face as he dove into the writing. It was his major, no doubt, but he’d never heard the likes of these phrases coming out of his mouth. Just imagine, lovesick Major Adams penning this secret letter to his sister, Lovely Lola of the Cat-Eye Saloon. Bradley had never enjoyed reading in any form until now.

  But he had to tread carefully. If Major Adams was this besotted, there was no telling how he might react if he knew Bradley had read the letter. And what would Louisa think? Time to do a little acting himself.

  “What is it?” she asked. “You didn’t write it, did you?”

  “No. I most certainly did not.”

  “Then why do you look like that? You’re up to something.”

  “I think I know the author.”

  “You do? Then you’d better tell him to leave off the wooing. If I hadn’t come home first, Major Adams could have found it. Can you imagine what a ruckus he would raise?”

  “Or he might have done his best to keep it quiet.”

  She shook her head. “He’s very protective of his girls. He would tear this fort apart to find the author.”

  Bradley couldn’t play it safe. No matter what the stakes, he had to poke the cat to see how hard it could scratch. He folded the letter and handed it back to her. “Why don’t you tell him you found it?”

  “What? He’ll be furious. You don’t know the major like I do.”

  “Evidently not.”

  “I just feel like I need to tell someone. I wouldn’t want this to reach Caroline and encourage her to do something ill-advised.” She tucked the letter into her sleeve and picked up her basket.

  “Show him, Lola. I promise, it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Since when are you an expert on the right thing to do?” But she straightened her plain mourning dress and thanked him in her fanciest voice for the assistance. Then she went to join the girls.

  Bradley had forgotten how fine Louisa could sound when playing a character. He wondered if this governess character would be a permanent one.

  It sounded like if she played her cards right, a better role might be available.

  Well, he wasn’t much help. Louisa turned her attention to the two girls darting around behind the buildings. They didn’t seem to be concerned about her talking to Bradley, but she knew their father would be.

  What was she going to do about Daniel?

  Louisa never should have mentioned the measurements. The girls at the Cat-Eye were always lounging around in various stages of undress and always had some project going to improve their wardrobe. Helping pin together a bodice or take measurements wasn’t a particularly noteworthy event. And if Tim-Bob happened through, no one paid him any mind.

  But last night hadn’t been a friend helping a friend. What had made it different, she couldn’t say. His hands were so warm, so gentle, and the difference had nothing to do with reporting some measurements. In this case, she wasn’t just another chorus girl. She meant something. And what had he been on the verge of telling her?

  Then Bradley had to ruin it. Of course, he was only looking after her, but what would have happened had he not picked that moment to throw rocks at her window? What had Daniel been going to say?

  Louisa adjusted the brim of her velvet hat against the wind. She was growing comfortable in her role as a proper lady. She still made mistakes, and plenty of them, but so far she’d escaped detection. What if she put away her pots of rouge and her feathered costumes forever? Could this masquerade lead to a good reference for another teaching position? Being Miss Bell the educated governess had its perks.

  And one of those perks was getting to spend time with the major.

  “I found my flower,” Caroline called. She held up a purple bloom with a yellow center. “It’s Anemone caroliniana, or Carolina Anemone.” Smiling, she dropped it into her basket.

  “Excellent work,” Louisa said. Making her way through the botany book ahead of Caroline had her eyes burning every evening, but it’d been worth it. No longer did Caroline accuse her of not being a real governess. Of course, arithmetic and composition weren’t as easily mastered, but in the meantime, she could memorize the names of plants just like she’d memorized lines of foreign songs she didn’t understand.

  Yes, she could get used to this life, but a man like Daniel Adams wanted nothing to do with a woman like Lovely Lola. And the more she treasured his friendship, the more important it was that she be truthful. Being truthful would mean losing everything, and that wasn’t what she wanted. For once Louisa understood her brother’s need to take insanely dangerous risks.

  Daisy bounded through the buffalo grass to Louisa. “I’m going to make a daisy chain out of Indian blankets.” She held up a basket full of the flowers. Their petals fanned out flat like a red wagon wheel that had rolled through a puddle of golden paint.

  “What’s the proper name?” Louisa asked.

  “Gaillardia pulchella,” Caroline said. “How long of a chain are you going to make?”

  “As long as I want,” Daisy said. “It isn’t any of your concern.” She skipped off to another clump she saw near the fence.

  Taking stock of the space afforded them, Louisa cleared her throat. “Since we have the whole outdoors as our amphitheater, let’s practice our music for our upcoming performance. What do you say?”

  “I’m singing alto this time.” Caroline bent over and snapped a stalk of thick grass with a bushy head to it, then put it in her basket.

  “Fine, I’ll do the melody,” Daisy called, although she was getting farther away and out of breath.

  Louisa hummed the starting note to herself and then began the song. Both girls chimed in with charming voices, causing even Bradley over by the fence to lift his head in wonder. The song waxed and waned as they gathered their treasures—which was their primary objective, after all—and Louisa was happy to fill in when a voice lost its position.

  She’d crescendoed to a lovely note when her ear picked up something unwelcome. A scream.

  Daisy was dancing a frantic jig and whooping and hollering as she had a habit of doing. Louisa’s lips pressed firm. Why would she interrupt now? She’d been doing so well with the melody line.

  But there was something odd about her dance. The flailing of the arms, the stomping, the running. And then a phrase came out clearly.

  “Help me!”

  Daisy wasn’t dancing. She was swatting at something. Louisa dropped her basket and sprinted to her. It was hornets. A ground nest, and Daisy was being stung over and over again. Louisa’s legs strained against her skirts to cover the ground more quickly, but she felt like she was running through sand. She didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

  Then she saw Bradley racing toward Daisy.

  “No, Bradley!” Louisa screamed as his boots flashed over the hard-baked ground. He had a sensitivity to stings. His body reacted violently to them. But he wasn’t stopping. Holding out his arms, he snatched up Daisy. Her body whipped about from the suddenness of his approach, but he ducked his head and kept on running toward the center of the fort with the little girl held against his chest.

  Louisa’s stomach dropped. She angled toward them, but Bradley was already slowing down. Before he reached the first building of the fort, he fell to his knees and collapsed.

&
nbsp; Louisa slid to the ground next to him and yanked on his shoulder to flip him over. Already his face, covered with red welts, was turning puffy and nearly purple.

  “Is she all right?” he asked.

  Daisy’s sobs were muffled by the ground. Louisa crawled to her and flipped her on her back. “It burns,” Daisy said. “My skin is burning everywhere.” She, too, was covered in stings—more than Bradley—but absent the swelling.

  “Get your father,” Louisa ordered Caroline as she caught up. Caroline streaked toward the green, yelling to sound the alarm.

  If Louisa had been torn between whom to treat, Bradley solved it for her. “Look after the little one,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  He’d always been a poor liar, but Louisa obeyed. She swatted at a few lingering hornets, shook some out of Daisy’s skirts, and checked over Bradley once again. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she placed a cool hand against Daisy’s feverish cheek. “I should’ve brought us something to drink,” she said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Bradley wheezed. “Ol’ Major Adams doesn’t allow that kind of drink in the territories.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Louisa said. But her brother was teasing her through gritted teeth and tightening lungs. She took his hand. Tremors racked through it. He lay flat on his back, his mouth open wide as he gasped for air. “Why did you do that?” Louisa moaned. “Always being stupid, rushing in when you shouldn’t.”

  “What my sister calls stupid, the army calls heroic.” His voice had stretched out tighter and higher.

  Louisa shushed him. “Rest,” she said. “Don’t wear yourself out.” But even she knew that relaxing wouldn’t help him any.

  Thundering hooves approached. The sentry from the field was racing toward them while a handful of mounted men came from the fort with Daniel in the lead. He jumped out of the saddle, landing next to Daisy. He took his canteen, wrenched off the lid, and held it to her lips. Louisa moved closer to Bradley to give Daniel more room at his daughter’s side. Bradley’s trembling had turned into more violent shaking. Louisa brushed back his hair, but his eyes were swollen shut.