All or Nothing

by Ashley Elizabeth Ludwig

  “So, you must be the new talk of the Fort.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, sir—”

  “We don’t move in the same circles. Trust me. You’ve made quite a reputation for yourself in a short time. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Mrs. Newcomb.”

  She focused on his uniform. Anything other than the disturbing thought that raced through her mind. His dress jacket was impressive with its mass of epaulets, shining buttons, and boots sparkling despite the dust. He was not at all what she expected, having met his daughters and wife. He straightened to his full height, seeming to sense her discomfort. “Care to take a turn on the dance floor, Mrs. Newcomb?”

  RuthAnne set her plate aside and stood.

  “Thank you, yes.” She straightened her skirts and placed her hand on his wrist as he led her to the floor as if they were at a fancy ball in the south. He led her around and into his embrace as the strains of “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” started. The doleful Irish music poured from the brass instruments.

  “I might not have been here in body, but I have my ear to the ground. Kendrick tells me the men here are quite taken with you already. I do hope you’re making yourself comfortable.”

  “Everyone has been most accommodating. Thank you, sir.”

  He held her firmly, perhaps a tad close, but it could just be he was guarding her from other couples on the dance floor. RuthAnne kept her arms firm, resisting being drawn in any closer. Dizzy from twirling with his well-timed steps, or from hunger, she found herself unable to draw her eyes from his. Somehow, they ended up in the middle of the throng of dancers.

  “You’ve done wonderfully with my family, and for that I’m grateful. Don’t mind Clara. She means well, but the heat is a bit much for her.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  He continued to turn her around the floor, making her feet feel like they barely touched the floor. “If there’s anything at all you need, don’t hesitate to tell me. Personally.”

  The song came to an end, and he stepped back from her, giving a slight bow. She watched him walk away, standing alone in the center of the floor feeling a bit lightheaded.

  Major Kendrick waved his hand at the bandleader, and they struck up “Home on the Range” with abandon. The staring crowd turned back to their partners, and the dance began anew, the murmurs rising to be heard above the music.

  Across the room, El Tejano adjusted the fake beard of his disguise. How could he have missed the blonde beauty before the post commander asked her for a dance? Old enough to be her father, he looked ridiculous.

  He watched what had just transpired with growing anger. The girl stood there like a fool, transfixed as the post commander vanished into the night. She was blissfully unaware she was the focus of intense scrutiny from the ladies and gentlemen alike. She turned, and now he saw her face with utmost clarity. Impossible.

  His fingernails dug into his palms so hard as to draw half-moons of blood. If she was alive, was her sister as well? The two of them held the key to the missing silver. And now, she was within his grasp.

  He couldn’t tear his eyes from this woman. Hair like honey, piled delicately upon her head, loose stray curls accenting the long graceful neck and bare shoulders. The pale blue dress matched the shade of her sparkling eyes. The woman took his breath away. She should have been his. Moreover, she should be dead. As long as he bided his time, there would be a season for that.

  Chapter 20

  “You’d better come with me, RuthAnne,” Dolly said in her ear.

  RuthAnne blinked and looked around. People were staring. “Yes, of course.” She blushed to her scalp as they hurried across the floor with Whit Baker mere steps behind.

  The night air was thick with Arizona heat, pressing on her face and skin. Making her feel claustrophobic.

  “RuthAnne, don’t you buy into that easy manner he showed you. The commander is nothing but a womanizer and a cheat.” Dolly seethed, her eyes brimming with fury.

  “Dolly, I never...”

  “I saw the look on your face. I’ve seen it a hundred times. That’s what he does with women. He draws you in, sucks you in, and then bleeds you dry. Just watch out.”

  Dolly was near tears when suddenly it struck RuthAnne. “What did that man do to you, Dolly?”

  Her friend’s eyes went from full of fire to the barest of embers. Sorrow. Overwhelming sadness. Remorse. “It doesn’t matter. Just, please. You’ve had but a taste. The rest of him ain’t so sweet.”

  Behind them, Whit cleared his throat from a respectable distance. They turned abruptly. Dolly went white, her mouth a perfect O of surprise that straightened into a thin line. “So, did you hear what you needed to know, Mr. Baker?” Her tone was razor sharp.

  “I heard plenty,” he said, stepping toward her.

  They both looked ready for a fight. RuthAnne needed to do something and fast.

  “Oh...” She hooked her arms through theirs and let herself drop a bit. “I feel a little faint.”

  Whit and Dolly led her to a bench, sitting on either side of her like bookends. RuthAnne held her breath while she watched them stare each other down. After a few silent moments, Whit’s eyes softened. No longer cannons ablaze, his gaze now shot sparks of an entirely different nature. Dolly busily inspected the hem of her gown. He gave a long, defeated sigh.

  “If you’re all right, ladies, I should probably take my leave,” Whit said and began to rise. RuthAnne held his hand firmly.

  “Whit, you wouldn’t mind escorting us back to our quarters, would you? I’m not quite steady on my feet.” RuthAnne smiled pitifully as he nodded.

  They began the trek back to the laundresses’ quarters in deafening silence.

  Hard to believe that only a few hours ago one could hardly get a word in edgewise between the two.

  “All that commotion made me lightheaded. I’m all right now, but tired. Mercy, am I bushed. And here I’ve promised Stable Master McDole that I’d help exercise the horses tomorrow.”

  RuthAnne went on and on, babbling almost uncontrollably to keep two souls together that would rather fly apart.

  “Do you like to ride, Whit? You know, there’s a trail I heard about, up into the Catalina Mountains. One of the boys talked about it all during our dance. He should have been paying more attention, for the number he did on my slippers. Anyway, the path takes you up through the foothills into a canyon, past seven waterfalls. Seven! Can you imagine?”

  Whit cleared his throat. “I’ve seen them. They are quite spectacular.” He waited a beat, his eyes never leaving Dolly’s. They glittered in the moonlight like cast aside gems. He asked hesitantly, “Miss Jewel, have you ever had the occasion?”

  Dolly shook her head. Her expression was grim, as if she had already mentally detached herself from this budding relationship that once held so much promise.

  “I’m starting out that way, and then going east over the pass...” RuthAnne said, her gaze meeting and pleading with Whit’s. She willed him courage to break down the wall Dolly was constructing around her heart.

  Whit looked like a man preparing to charge into battle as he spoke a bit loudly. “Well, Dolly, why don’t you and I get up early tomorrow and head north? I think you’d be mighty taken by the view. If you’d be so inclined...”

  She stopped. “You’re sayin’ you want to take me?”

  He nodded, the twinkle returning to his eye.

  “Why would you want to do that, Whit Baker? What exactly do you see happening between us once you have me alone out there?”

  “I’d like to show you the danged view. I’d like to do something that might impress you a bit.”

  “Really? And why is that? I don’t work at the Wedge anymore, or haven’t you heard? Those days are long since past, though no one seems to have trouble dredging them up and throwing them back in my face.”

  “And that’s what you think I’m doing? There are easier ways to get a woman into bed, Dolly Jewel.” His face redden
ed as he pulled at his collar. His voice rose, but hers was louder.

  RuthAnne’s smile bloomed as she excused herself and left the two arguing over nothing in the moonlight.

  Chapter 21

  RuthAnne stirred in her cot at the crowing rooster. One eye opened to discover dawn still hadn’t broken. She grabbed her pillow, rolling over with a groan as the rooster crowed again. This would be a fine day for the canteen to serve chicken and dumplings.

  Dolly flew into the room in a flurry of white cotton and ruffles, her hair tied up in rags. “Ruthie! Get up!”

  RuthAnne sat bolt upright. “I’m up. What on earth, Dolly Jewel?”

  “I don’t think I slept a wink. That Whit Baker...Can you believe the audacity of that man?” Dolly couldn’t stop grinning as she unwrapped her rag-tied hair.

  “No, I don’t think I can. To think! He likes you and wants to do something nice for you.”

  “We’re going on a picnic in the mountains. Isn’t that quaint? Uh-oh...Do you think I should drag along a chaperone?” Dolly paused, a red-blonde curl in her hand.

  RuthAnne smothered her grin. It wasn’t like Dolly to worry what other people thought. “Why don’t you ask if Katie can tag along? I’m sure she’d like to get out a bit. Besides, if you and Whit are going to be...friends...he needs to spend some time getting to know her better.”

  Dolly’s wide-eyed, precocious daughter would be the perfect chaperone for this occasion. Her presence would be noted throughout the fort, and Dolly and Whit’s encounter would be gossip-free. Dolly’s smile lit her face like the light of a rainbow. “Katie would love to go.”

  “Let’s go tell her.” RuthAnne smiled and stretched out the cobwebs from the night before.

  “No. Let her sleep. I need to go down to the creek and splash some sense into my thick skull. And I almost chased this man away...” Dolly turned on her heel and stopped at RuthAnne’s door. “You coming?”

  “Where? To the creek?” She’d heard that once or twice a week the women went to splash in the light before the dawn. Forgetting her wrapper, RuthAnne slid straight from bed into her moccasins and chased after Dolly into the rich blue glow of early morning.

  The Tanque Verde Creek snaked out of the foothills and around the outer limits of Fort Lowell. She heard the creek before she saw it; bubbling currents sang sweetly as it ran over rocks, pebbles, and fallen trunks of cottonwood trees. The two women skittered down a shallow bank to a small beach. There was no one around. Only the raspy birdcalls of cactus wren and the whoot-whoot of fat desert quail heralded that morning was near or that anyone else was awake. The barest hint of pre-dawn gold glowed over the Rincon Mountains to the east.

  Dolly unashamedly shucked her garment and strode out into the cool water and waning starlight. Her breath caught and held with the shock of water on skin. RuthAnne hesitated and then followed suit. After a moment, they were perched between rocks in the middle of the water that flowed up to their necks, feeling the cooling rush like a million handmaids, fresh and clean on their bare skin.

  “You know, women in ancient times used to wash this way. Something about making themselves new when their souls were tired. A ritual bath.” Dolly’s breath hitched as the sun broke over the broad slopes of the Rincon Mountains.

  “We all need to be renewed now and again, don’t we?” RuthAnne’s throat was thick, knowing that though Dolly was dealing with so much, her faith never wavered.

  “He loves me, even with the things I’ve done. How is that possible?” Dolly’s voice was barely audible above the rush of water over stones. Tears glittered on her cheeks, shining in the growing dawn.

  The two friends held hands in the water. Sisters of the heart.

  ****

  After what seemed an age, RuthAnne followed Dolly out of the water. Dried and dressed, they sat on the small stretch of beach, sharing a deeper bond than she had ever dreamed possible.

  “Thank you.” Dolly grasped RuthAnne’s hand.

  “Don’t thank me. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I meant for last night! Here I thought no man could ever want me and Katie, and he’s plumb been under my nose the whole time. Good thing he’s stubborn as a mule.”

  “Well, you two just needed to air a few things out, is all.” RuthAnne shook off a last bit of sand from her toes and slipped on her shoes.

  “Speaking of...” Dolly turned to face RuthAnne. The sun warmed their faces and dried their hair into ringlets on their shoulders. “You need to come clean with me.”

  RuthAnne hesitated. “About what?”

  “Just how you met our dear friend Bowen Shepherd and what your intentions are with him. Bowen’s near and dear to my heart.”

  “Yes, I know. In fact, I always assumed...”

  “What? That he and I?” Dolly laughed. “It’s only natural you would have thought we had been...well, intimate.”

  Heat rushed to her ears. “No, that wasn’t what I thought. I thought you loved him.”

  “He saved me, you know. It was a much worse thing than being stranded in a storm. I was newly pregnant with Katie. I wouldn’t give her up, and they were threatening to throw me out on my ear. Bowen was storming through town looking for a fight after that horrible Camp Grant incident.”

  “Camp Grant?” RuthAnne had heard it mentioned, and every time she asked about it people hushed up as if ashamed or afraid.

  “That was in spring of ’71.” Dolly explained further. “Back when the city thought it could do more good than harm by starting a war between two Indian tribes. They sent Bowen to clean up the mess, and it changed him. He searched out the masterminds behind the massacre and brought them to town for trial. When the judge let them all go—heck, the judge all but gave the Citizens for Public Safety Committee a commendation! Bowen went crazy, like a wild man, ready to bring them to justice by his own self...something stopped him. He had tracked down a certain high-ranking cavalry officer.”

  RuthAnne’s mind clicked. The post commander? She opened her mouth to voice it, but Dolly simply held up a hand. Her face was sorrowful; her eyes told a million tragic stories.

  Dolly continued. “I worked the Wedge because I had no choice; it was a good place for a girl like me. The Opera House, it was called, was considered a high-profile establishment. Not the usual riffraff, but a place where solid citizens could discreetly come to call. They kept us in pretty dresses, powders, all of the trappings and then some. Once a month, a Chinese lady would come and see to it none of us were in the family way. As awful as it was, it became almost...normal. Just something to detach yourself from; let your mind drift away, pretend you weren’t there. I could lock myself away in a closet in my mind, like when I was a girl. So it wasn’t even like I was there.”

  RuthAnne wanted to weep. Across the desert, birds called. Deer walked with hollow steps down a well-worn path. The creek soothed and sang to them as it trickled between the rocks.

  “The lady knew when she came that month, but I begged her not to tell. Katie was going to be mine. She was a gift, and I was finally going to get out of there. I told the mistress to tell him I was feeling sick, but I was his favorite back then. He paid extra to see me.”

  Swallowing, she continued, eyes closed in remembrance. Fingers stroked the fine scar at her jaw. “I tried to make him stop. I even told him why...He was fearsome angry. Wanted to see to it single-handed that the baby wouldn’t make it. That’s when Bowen kicked the door in.”

  She seemed lost in memory, words falling like water. “He grabbed the commander by his hair. Then he saw me...asked me if I was all right. Can you imagine? Me? Well, Bowen Shepherd dragged me right out of the Opera House and put me into the army’s good service washing their gear right along with enlisted wives and lifers, like I was one of them.” A single tear coursed Dolly’s round cheek.

  RuthAnne wanted to say something. Anything. But she just searched out her friend’s hand and held it solidly until Dolly could continue.

  “Katie was born at Ca
mp Lowell, at the post hospital when it was new. She never had to see that life. Or that side of me, praise God.” Dolly’s eyes closed. She straightened her shoulders, as if lighter with the confession. RuthAnne gave her a solid hug.

  Dolly laughed lightly, blotting her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “So, that’s the story. There’s more, but he’ll have to share it with you when the time’s right. It ain’t my place to do his telling.”

  RuthAnne nodded and took a handful of coarse sand; she watched it drift through her fingers like through an hourglass. Bowen’s past confounded her, and worse, it made her heartsick for longing to share more with him.

  Dolly pushed. “So, now it’s your turn. Tell me how you came to be in Bowen’s tender care.”

  She laughed out loud in answer. Tender? No. Still, he told her if the truth came out, it was her telling. And she unburdened her spirit, sharing the story of her husband’s death, her sister, their trek by train and then stagecoach, with crates of army uniforms delayed due to Indians and bandits. Of El Tejano and how she and Mara had almost died. She idly fingered the healing mark at her temple, where the bullet had grazed past. Her life, spared by inches.

  “I don’t know how, but Bowen found me. He found us. I’m going to the chapel to see if I can collect Mara and bring her back with me. She’s probably too weak to travel, but I must see her.”

  “Why so secret?” Dolly asked.

  RuthAnne shrugged. “Bowen said he had a lead on El Tejano but wanted to avoid...he said the townspeople would be up in arms if word got out that a Mexican bandito had almost killed two women...that no one would be safe.”

  He wanted to avoid another Camp Grant.

  Dolly nodded. “They’ll never hear it from me.”

  ****

  In the bushes upstream, Amanda and Megan Carington listened intently. They had come to cool off in the early morning and instead found RuthAnne and Dolly already bathing there.