by Zina Abbott
Leander shook his head. Once they started along the trail again, it would take only two to three days to reach Salina, one of the last towns of any size for miles to come. As he recalled, Salina had the semblance of a hotel and liquor could be purchased. He would probably have another fight on his hands to convince the men to keep the freight trains moving, especially if what the girl said was true and there was a possibility of an Indian war party in the area.
Then again, the young woman riding ahead of him probably lived in or around Salina. He wouldn’t mind visiting her while he waited to move west. Before he could do that, however, Leander needed to find out her name and exactly where she lived.
Now Leander waited on the road as he watched Sugarcone and her rider enter the ferry and start across the Republican. As soon as he saw the horse and rider on the opposite bank, Leander nudged Thunder forward to signal the ferry to cross back over for him.
Once both horses were across the river, Leander pushed forward until he could see the young woman and her horse in the distance. He held Thunder back, but only enough to not lose sight of his quarry.
As Leander reached the outskirts of the fort, he watched the molasses-colored mare and her rider stop to speak to a sentry. After the soldier pointed in the direction of the stock pens, the young woman nodded her thanks and turned her horse in that direction. Leander kept his distance, but followed until he saw her dismount and run up to two men. She threw her arms around the neck of one and buried her face in his shoulder. She had found her papa.
At the sight of her raised arms hugging her father, Leander grinned as he studied the trouser-clad backside of the young woman now that the hem of her jacket rested closer to her waist. Tucker was right. There was no missing the feminine shape before him.
Leander slowly approached until he was close enough to hear the conversation between the two. He suppressed a laugh as he realized from whom the young woman had inherited her temperament.
The man held his daughter by her upper arms and stepped back as he surveyed her attire. “Kizzie, what on earth are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?”
Leander chuckled to himself. Her first name was Kizzie.
“Papa, how I’m dressed is not important. You have to come back with me….”
“What do you mean it’s not important how you are dressed? You’re a young woman now. It’s time you stopped dressing like your younger brother. And to come here in public looking like this, you ought to be ashamed.”
“Papa, please! We need help. I don’t care if you sold all your cattle or not. You can’t go on to Fort Leavenworth. You have to come back to protect us.”
“No need to go to Fort Leavenworth. We sold the herd here. We’re just waiting for the Colonel to sign off on the sale so we can get our money.”
“But, you have to come with me now, Papa. Grandpa twisted his knee and it’s only Otto and Jesse….
In frustration, the man wiped his face with his hand. “Grandpa twisted his knee? How’d he do that?”
By this point Kizzie’s fists were balled up and she stamped her boot. She forced words out between gritted teeth. “It doesn’t matter how he twisted his knee. The point is you have to come back and help protect us from…”
“Of course it’s important how he twisted his knee, Daughter.”
The other man clapped his hand on Kizzie’s father’s shoulder. “For once shut your trap, Sidney, and listen to what the girl has to say.”
Sidney Atwell scowled and turned to his companion. “Jefferson, I’ll manage my own daughter without you telling me what to do.”
Leander knew he was asking for trouble, but he spoke up anyway. “Sir, I suggest you listen to your daughter. From what she told me, you have Indian trouble out your way.”
Kizzie spun around and jammed her fists to the sides of her waist. “I can tell them myself, Mr. Jones.”
Sidney turned his attention towards Leander. Leander watched as the man studied him. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he spoke to his daughter. “You know this man, Kizzie?”
“Well, um…we met while I was riding here to find you, Papa. We only spoke a few words. Other than that there’s not much to tell and I have no idea why he followed me.”
Leander rocked heel to toe as he studied Kizzie glaring at him. He suspected she was not willing for him to share with her father what had taken place between her and Tucker. It was all he could do to not burst out laughing at her evasiveness. However, a part of him knew if he ever wanted Kizzie to speak to him again, now was not the time to enlighten her father just how much danger she had faced at the hands of the bullwhacker.
Leander cleared his throat and thrust his hand forward. “Leander Jones, at your service, sir. I happened to meet your daughter on the road here a few miles past Junction City where she was kind enough to warn the freight train I’m traveling with about the Indian danger in Salina. Since she was traveling alone, I decided to ride here with her to make sure she arrived safely…”
“I didn’t need you to see to my safety. And see to your horse! He’s bothering Sugarcone again.”
“…and to make sure the commander here at the fort is aware of the situation. The last thing our convoy needs is to travel into the middle of an Indian uprising.”
Sidney stepped forward and shook Leander’s hand. “Sidney Atwell, Mr. Jones. And I assume you met my daughter Kizzie. And this is my brother, Jefferson Atwell.”
Jefferson nodded towards Leander and spoke curtly. “Mr. Jones.” Then he took Kizzie’s hand and gently pulled her away from her father until she stood in front of him. “Now, while your father is getting acquainted with Mr. Jones, tell me what you have been trying to say about the Indians and the family being in danger.”
Leander did his best to settle Thunder as he tried to stay close enough to the other two men who finally listened as Kizzie told her story. No one spoke until she finished. She turned to face her father. “That’s why I dressed like this and came for you and Uncle Jefferson, Papa. You have the rifles. In case the Indians catch up to the rest of our family, we need your protection. Please, Papa, leave the cattle behind and come help us.”
Sidney Atwell’s face blanched and his mouth dropped open as his daughter made her final plea. “I had no idea it was that bad, Kizzie. Why didn’t you just say so to begin with?”
Jefferson punched his brother’s shoulder. “No time for talk, Sidney. Take your daughter and start back. I’ll see about our bill of sale and be right behind you.” Jefferson turned to Leander. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. We appreciate you keeping an eye on my niece. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
Leander only halfway heard Jefferson Atwell’s words. He looked up only to realize a familiar Army captain, taking long strides, was cutting a straight path toward the little group, his eyes focused on Sugarcone. Having dealt with the man before, Leander knew exactly what was coming. The others turned to see what Leander stared at. Once the captain was within shouting distance of the group, he pointed at the mare. “Who owns that horse? I need that horse for the Army.”
Kizzie screamed over her shoulder as she ran to Sugarcone and wrapped her arms around her mare’s neck. “No! She’s mine! You can’t have her.”
The officer called back, “Young man, I’ll not tolerate that kind of insubordination. The Army is at war and has the right to requisition the livestock it needs. Now, I need to speak to your father.”
Kizzie scrambled into the saddle. “You can’t have her.” She turned and glared at her father. “Stay here and talk all you want, but don’t you dare let him have Sugarcone. I’m going back to help save our family from the Indians.” Kizzie jammed her heels into Sugarcone’s sides, and turned the horse’s head back towards Junction City as she urged her mare into a run.
The captain called out to the sentry. “Stop that horse and rider!”
The sentry leaped forward to grab for the reins, but Kizzie managed to guide Sugarcone free of his grasp. She continued down the road awa
y from the fort.
Out of breath, the captain approached the trio of men and nodded to the brothers. “Mr. and Mr. Atwell. Do one of you lay claim to that horse and that insolent young man? If so, we have more business to discuss. I want that horse.”
For several seconds Sidney watched his daughter flee the fort by herself before he turned back to the officer and acknowledged him. “Captain Prescott. They’re mine, but I have no interest in selling the horse. You’ll need to excuse me. My family is in danger from marauding Indians and I need to leave.”
The captain snapped impatiently. “My lieutenant has a large patrol about ready to depart to take care of the Indian uprising. Your family will be out of danger soon. We have the sale of that horse to discuss. We are at war, Mr. Atwell. That horse is young and strong and has good formation. I need horses like her for my men. I’m sorry for the boy, that he will have to give up his favorite horse, but the needs of the Army come first.”
Jefferson Atwell spoke up. “I thought when a soldier signed up for the cavalry he brought his own horse.”
“Some do, some don’t—it depends on the unit. During battles, horses get killed and need to be replaced. I know. I had my own favorite horse shot out from underneath at the Battle of Manassas. It’s part of my job to find good replacements.”
As he listened to the men speak, Leander struggled to keep Thunder from following after Kizzie’s mare. Keeping a tight grasp on his stallion’s reins, his mind considered what he could say or do to help Kizzie keep Sugarcone. He had already guessed her father to be an impulsive man who thought with his heart before his head. He might bluster and resist, but would he be able to talk the determined captain out of requisitioning the horse?
Leander stepped forward. “Sir, I agree with you that the horse you have your eye on would be an excellent choice for the Army. But, I ask you to be forward-thinking enough to realize you will need good stock in a few years as much as you do now. Maybe even more. You don’t want to kill off your good breeding stock by sending them back east to be cannon fodder.”
“I’m not concerned with any units back east. My job is to keep my cavalry troops and mounted infantry at this fort mounted.”
“I understand, sir. But neither do you want to kill off good breeders by them being ridden to death or half-starved on long military campaigns either against the rebels or the Indians.”
“Mr. Jones, I thought the freight train you’re attached to would be several miles beyond Junction City by now. I see no reason for you to try to interfere with my duties. Just what is your connection to the Atwells?”
“The mare is in foal, sir. I know because my stallion covered her. You’ll have prime horseflesh as a result if you will just be patient for a few years.”
Leander stared at the officer, daring him to blink first. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sidney gawk at him, his mouth agape with astonishment. Next to him, his brother stood with his arms crossed, his lips pursed while his eyes studied Leander and Thunder with a calculating gleam.
Jefferson spoke first. “You told me you bred the mare, Sidney. Why didn’t you tell me it was Mr. Jones’s stallion, here?”
Sidney worked his lips like a fish out of water as he struggled with a reply. He glanced over to the captain and caught himself before he said something that would cost his daughter her horse.
Leander heaved a silent sigh of relief when Kizzie’s papa finally realized what was going on and started to play along.
Sidney cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you had made Mr. Jones’s acquaintance, Jefferson, so it never occurred to me.” Sidney turned to the captain. “I just hope with the rough riding my…uh…he has inflicted upon the horse the mare doesn’t lose her foal.” Sidney straightened up and assumed an officious attitude. “As Mr. Jones pointed out, the mare has a better chance of producing a strong foal that will serve you well if she isn’t subjected to the rigors of military use. I’ll…ah…stay in contact and let you know when the horse is ready.”
“If she throws a colt, I’ll want it gelded. The Army doesn’t have time to deal with a lot of fractious stallions. Although…” the Union officer turned back to Leander. “For this stallion we might make an exception. He would make a good horse for an officer.”
Jefferson grabbed his brother’s arm and began to pull him away from the conversation. “We’ll let you two work that out. One of us will be back in a few days to get our payment for the cattle we sold to the fort. Right now, Sidney and I have families on the road to take care of.”
Leander found himself alone facing the determined Union requisitions officer. He assumed an aggressive stance to match that of the captain while he chose his words carefully. “As I have told you before, this stallion is not for sale. As you know, I am riding guard on a freight train traveling through hostile Indian country. If anyone needs a strong, reliable horse, it’s me.”
“And as I have told you before, an older man could be doing what you are doing. You have never given me a satisfactory answer about why you aren’t in the Army serving your nation.”
Leander did his best to tamp down his rising anger. “Like we discussed, Captain, my younger brother is serving. My father and I are serving by providing supplies to the West, much of which ends up at your forts in Colorado territory and points south. Being an officer of a fort on the edge of the frontier yourself, I’m sure you can appreciate the importance of what we do. A freight train guard on foot is of little value. I need my horse.”
“The Army also needs horses, as well as healthy young men. I may not have the power to get you enlisted right now, Mr. Jones, but I do have the power to requisition your horse.”
Leander heaved a sigh of resignation. He could see only one way out of this situation. “Once again, Captain Prescott, you do not want to destroy all the good breeding stock. I will not agree to you taking this horse. However, I do have two geldings this stallion has sired I will sell to you. Not to the Army in general, but to you…here…in Kansas, for use in a frontier fort. The mares are Indian ponies, so the geldings aren’t as big as Thunder. However, they will serve you well in prairie terrain.”
“I’m interested, Mr. Jones, although I wonder why this is the first I am hearing of them. Where can I go to see them?”
Leander snapped his reply. “I’ll not tell you and you won’t be able to find them on your own.” His horses were part of the herd on Kaw land. Under no circumstances was he going to allow this man onto the land of Charlie’s people. Nor did he want the captain to know he also had a filly there sired by Thunder plus two other mares in foal by him. “Tell me where the telegraph office is, Captain, and I’ll let you get back to your business. Let me take care of my horse and I’ll send a telegram to my father with instructions to retrieve the geldings and bring them to you.”
“You won’t be sorry, Mr. Jones. The Army pays a fair price for horses.”
Leander struggled to look the man in the face without growling. He knew the Army’s idea of a good price was what most people would pay for a swayback, half-blind nag old enough to be put out to pasture. He would never get from the Army what his geldings were worth on the open market. But, this would be his contribution to the war effort.
Leander wondered if Miss Kizzie would ever realize the price he was paying so he would have a good reason to see her again and stay in touch with her. For once he left Fort Riley, he had every intention of finding her and letting Thunder cover her mare. After that, he would have a vested interest in coming back to her home to keep track of the result. But for now, he needed to settle things with the captain and get back to the freight train.
“If they suit your needs, I’ll have my father negotiate the price with you.”
CHAPTER 4
Kizzie twisted her head and studied the two horses pursuing her. Once she reached the Republican, she discovered the ferry on the opposite bank. By the time it arrived, her father and uncle had joined her, which was a relief since she had already spent most of her sp
are money crossing the first time. After they boarded the ferry, to discourage conversation, Kizzie kept her back to her father and uncle on the trip across the river. She did not need any more questions or criticisms of her actions.
Her effort proved in vain. As they pulled away from the bank, her Uncle Jefferson stepped to her side. “Kizzie, how many travelers did you see on the road here after you left the family?”
“Several, Uncle Jefferson. No one since I crossed paths with that freighting outfit Mr. Jones is traveling with. They’re kind of a rough-looking bunch, Uncle. I’d rather steer clear of them.”
“Mr. Jones didn’t seem too rough, but maybe there’s something you’re not telling us. It’s no secret that freighters tend to be a mean lot, usually single men who have no sense of roots. Were they disrespectful to you in any way?”
“No. Mr. Jones was respectful enough, both he and Mr. Gray Cloud. But from what I saw of the others, they haven’t seen a bath house or barber for awhile.”
Curious, Sidney stepped forward, a puzzled look on his face. “Mr. Gray Cloud?”
“He’s their scout. He said he’s half Kaw and the others coming from Salina way mistook him for the Indians who attacked the settlers. He thinks it may be the Cheyenne doing it because they don’t like people like us moving onto the prairie where they hunt buffalo. But, Mr. Gray Cloud was very polite to me.”
Kizzie sighed and shook her head with disgust.
Jefferson studied her. “Your words say one thing, Kizzie, but your expression says something different. What happened?”
Kizzie heaved a sigh. “It’s just they saw through my disguise right away. Well, Mr. Jones didn’t at first, but it didn’t take him long.”
Sidney pulled his daughter to him with a shoulder hug. “You’re too pretty to pass for a boy, Kizzie. That’s why I worry about you. You never should have come alone like this.”