by Zina Abbott
“I tell him, for Thanksgiving come. If not, Christmas.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes wide, Hannah studied her mother’s face. She next focused on her father while she waited for him to say something.
Jefferson held Hannah’s gaze with his for several seconds. He then looked to the side, exhaled with a grunt, and shook his head. His expression more congenial, he turned until his gaze met hers once again. “If Lt. Burdock is able to visit us, I promise you, Hannah, I will be civil and listen with an open mind to what he has to say. That’s all I will promise.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
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Chapter 18
~o0o~
East of Salina, Kansas
December 7, 1865
J ake arrived at the house that morning while Hannah, her sister, and her mother were cleaning up after breakfast. They knew he planned to be there after Grandpa Palmer brought her mother a letter—not her, her mother—accepting the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner barring any blizzard blowing in the day before. Hannah had made a point to wear her winter, Sunday best dark blue dress which she now had covered with her apron.
Her father invited him in, and he greeted everyone. Hannah wondered, was it just her imagination, or did his gaze seek her out, even as he exchanged pleasantries with the rest of her family?
He greeted her last, but Hannah could tell he focused his full attention on her when he did. Before she could offer to take his coat and hat, her father suggested he and Jake go for a walk outside. At her father’s invitation, the two men grabbed mugs of coffee and left the house.
Feeling like a tornado full of autumn leaves blew through her stomach, through the window, Hannah watched the two most important men in her life as they sauntered across the yard in the general direction of the south fields. She knew Henry had taken Jake’s horse to the barn and would probably unsaddle it and brush it down. She guessed her father would avoid the barn for the time being.
When they angled toward the corral, Hannah moved to the living area window to watch them more easily. Between pausing to sip at their coffee, they talked. From everything Hannah could see, her father, as he had promised her, spoke civilly to Jake.
“Papa’s going to know you’re spying on them the way you’re standing right next to the window like that.”
Hannah stepped back and glanced at her sister standing a few feet behind her as she also watched the scene. “I know, Magpie. It’s just that it’s important to me to know how the conversation is going between Jake…er, Lt. Burdock and Papa.”
Upon hearing her sister’s groan, Hannah hunched her shoulders.
“Please don’t call me Magpie while he’s here.”
“I’m sorry, Margarete. I’ll try my best not to. It’s just we’ve called you Magpie for so many years, I do it without thinking.”
“Well, you won’t like what I call you when he’s around if you keep forgetting.”
At that moment, Hannah watched the men turn and begin walking in the direction of the house. She quickly removed her apron and ran to hang it up on a peg in the kitchen. She checked the downstairs mirror to be sure her hair was still in place. “Do I look all right, Margarete?”
“You look like you always do. You’re fine.”
Hannah shook her head. If Jake was coming back into the house, she wanted to look more than fine. She turned as the door opened and her father entered. Her breath caught. She did not see Jake behind, preparing to follow in through the door. Was she mistaken about the talk between the two men going well?
“Weather’s nice outside right now, Hannah. Why don’t you put your cloak on and join Lt. Burdock out front for a while? Carl’s busy in the tack room, and I sent Henry to walk the outside of the south field to check on the winter wheat. It should give you a little time with your lieutenant, free of interruptions.”
“Thank you, Papa.” Hannah’s heart soared as she reached for her cloak hanging on a peg next to the front door. She stepped outside. Jake, his back to her as he stared at the trees in the distance lining the banks of the Smoky Hill River that edged their property, stood in the front yard. As she closed the door, he turned to face her. She watched him approach the stairs to the porch as she walked toward him. After setting his mug at the edge of the porch, he reached up a hand to help her down to join him.
Hannah bit her lips to hold back a giggle. If he knew how many times she had run up and down that step unassisted—leaped on and off the porch without benefit of that stair—he might not have been as inclined to treat her like she needed his help. No, she chastised herself, he was being polite. He treated her like a gentleman treats a lady. When she slid her hand in the crook of his elbow after he offered her his arm, she smiled. With the garden they had viewed the last time he came to the home now covered with the dead vines and leaves that remained after the harvest, he steered her in the opposite direction.
“Hannah, ever since you gave me your handkerchief at the dance, I have wanted to give you something in return. I finally found what I believe is the perfect gift. However, I felt it best that I ask your father’s permission first. Knowing the strict social expectations of society, I did not wish to offend your family by going behind their backs.”
Hannah giggled and looked at the ground in front of her feet. “You mean, like the handkerchief I gave you without them knowing?”
His eyebrows raise, Jake smiled at her. “You didn’t tell them?”
Hannah stopped and shook her head. “No. I don’t need my parents telling me I was being too forward.” She turned to him until she found herself staring into his eyes. “I suppose it was. But it was such a magical night, and I wanted you to have it.” She looked down. “I didn’t want you to forget me.”
Jake smiled and shook his head. “I’ll never forget you, Hannah. I feel the same about that night.” He turned his gaze forward and began walking once more. “I hope it’s acceptable to you, Hannah, but I asked your father for permission to court you.”
Hannah sucked in her breath. “You did?”
“Yes. I know this is only the third time we have seen each other in person, but I feel like we have come to know each other through our letters. He told me he thought you’re still too young to marry.”
Hannah grimaced. “I know. I don’t agree.”
“I’m the one who’s not ready to offer yet, Hannah, not with my current assignment. Especially considering the dismal nature of the quarters available right now where I am. I could not, in good conscience, ask you to join me. You know, before I was assigned there, a large band of hostiles attacked Fort Ellsworth and the nearby stagecoach station. They stole most of the stock, leaving them on foot and in a precarious situation until the Army brought more horses.”
Hannah gulped. “I remember hearing about that.”
“Neither do I wish to marry, and then abandon, a wife to a life of what could be years of loneliness and uncertainty before I’m assigned to a more established fort.”
“I understand.” Hannah did not like it, but she did understand. No matter how much she cared for Jake, the prospect of living in a cave dug out of a riverbank at a fort under attack by hostiles frightened her. It was all she could do to keep her fear in check when she thought of Jake living under those conditions.
“I hope you do. There is something special between us, and I don’t want to lose that. Although I asked to court you, I don’t want you to feel bound to me during our long separations. Rather than wait for me for what could be several years, you may meet another and decide you wish to marry him. However, if you have not found another you prefer, I believe the time will come when I will ask you to share my future with me.”
Hannah jerked her head, and she studied the side of his face. If I have not found another? I’m not looking for another.
Jake’s gaze once more met hers. “However, I do wish for your parents’ approval for us to visit when I can get away. I also hope you like
the gift I brought you, and, if you choose to wear it, I want you to do so openly rather than keeping it hidden away.” Jake opened the leather pouch secured to his belt and pulled out a paper folded like a letter. He handed it to Hannah.
Hannah glanced at Jake as she slowly reached for the letter. She turned it from front to back. Jake had not written on the outside, but she felt the lump of something solid inside the paper. She slowly unfolded the packet to reveal a gold necklace. After bringing the pendant closer to her face and turning it until the winter sunlight touched it, Hannah sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful, Jake. I love the design.”
“I hoped you would. It’s a locket. The Bavarian jeweler helped me pick it out.”
“Is there a photograph of you inside?”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t have one that will fit. I didn’t have time to inscribe it, so what I wrote on the wrapping will have to do for now.”
Hannah lifted the sheet so she could read Jake’s message:
To Hannah, as a token of my highest regard.
Your letters are like a beacon of light in the darkness.
Jacob C. Burdock
Hannah reread the message. No title—no lieutenant this time—only Jake’s formal name.
Hannah pressed the paper to her breast. “I’ll keep it always.” She then held it out to Jake. “Please hold this while I put the necklace on.”
Jake refolded it along the creases and tucked it through his belt. “Here, let me help you with that, assuming my fingers don’t fumble too terribly.”
The two worked together to fasten the gold chain at the back of Hannah’s neck.
Hannah tucked her chin under in an attempt to see the necklace. She stroked it with her fingertips. “It’s so pretty. I’ll enjoy wearing this.”
“That’s what I wanted, Hannah, for you to enjoy it and wear it for all to see, if that is your wish. I’m happy you like it.”
Hannah tipped her face up until her gaze connected with Jake’s. “It’s special, Jake, but not as special as the man who gave it to me.” A recollection of the kiss they shared at the dance the previous spring entered her mind. In spite of being in the yard where, for all she knew, her parents and sister watched what had taken place, Hannah yearned for Jake to once again kiss her.
Henry’s shouts coming from the fields behind the house pulled her attention from her secret longings. She turned to see what was wrong.
Jake pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow and started toward the house at a brisk walk.
Jefferson Atwell ran through the door and bounded down the porch stairs, his words carrying over the yard. “Henry, what’s wrong? Is there trouble?”
His chest heaving, Henry bent over for several seconds to catch his breath. He stood and spoke just as Hannah and Jake grew close enough to hear clearly. “They’re here, Papa.” He pointed to the south. “They must be on their way to hunt buffalo.”
Hannah looked over at Jake as, his forehead wrinkled, he turned to her father.
“What is he talking about, sir?”
“The Kansa—or the Kaw, as many people call them. After they get their annuity from the government in the first part of December, they leave the reservation for a couple of months to hunt buffalo.”
Her hand still on Jake’s arm, Hannah followed Jake as he stepped to the opening between the house and the corral. She watched him squint as he focused his gaze toward the low hills to the south. She turned and looked in the same direction, where she caught sight of the line of people traveling west toward the open prairie.
“I want to go watch them, Papa. Maybe Charlie Gray Cloud is with them and will come over and talk for a few minutes.”
“Not alone, Henry. Saddle the horses. I’ll get my coat and join you. If Carl wants to go, you two can ride double.”
Hannah chuckled under her breath as she watched her brother race for the barn before their father could change his mind.
“I’d like to join you, if I may, sir, assuming they don’t pose a threat.” Jake faced Hannah as he released her hand. “I hope that’s acceptable, Hannah.”
“Of course.” Hannah studied Jake, turned her gaze toward the south, and then back to him. “I’m going with you.”
“I’ll get my horse ready, then.” Jake headed toward the barn as Hannah turned to follow her father.
Jefferson, who had started toward the front door, halted and turned back. “You want to watch the Kaw, Hannah? You’ve never shown an interest in doing so before.”
“Today I’m interested, Papa. I plan to go with you.”
“In your good dress?”
“Yes. I’ll borrow a pair of Carl’s trousers to put on underneath.” Hannah walked at a pace just short of running toward the front door. She suppressed a laugh at her father’s expense once she realized he stood in place while he watched her pass by him. When he called after her, she did not turn around.
“We don’t have enough horses.”
“I’ll ride double with Jake.”
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Chapter 19
~o0o~
C harlie Gray Cloud rode from the front of the line of his people traveling the Kaw Trail toward the back. It was time to consult with his wife’s father, Spotted Horse.
As he did any time he traveled to the hunting grounds with his tribe, he served as a scout, just like he did for the Jones’s freight train on their annual trips along the Kansas trails. For several years, Owen Jones, who ran the outfitter’s trading post in Bonner Springs, had sent his wagons with merchandise along the Smoky Hill Trail to Denver. In recent years, he had contracted with the Army in Fort Riley and sent supplies down the Santa Fe Trail to Fort Union, a fort that, in turn, supplied the military posts of New Mexico Territory.
Charlie had gone ahead to determine the safest places for his people to travel as they made their way west to the open prairie. Each time they made the journey, it seemed even more American homesteaders had claimed land on the stretches of grama grass on which the bison that would sustain his people over the winter needed to feed. Not long after he passed the point where the Smoky Hill River bent to flow north, he turned his gaze toward the farms owned by the Atwell brothers—early settlers who had been in the region for years. Just this summer, he had stopped by the Sidney Atwell home as Sidney’s oldest daughter, Kizzie, celebrated her marriage to Leander Jones, Owen’s son.
Charlie narrowed his eyes to better focus on the riders of the three horses that stood at the edge of the Jefferson Atwell property. Often over the years, he saw the farmer working in the field and stopped by to exchange any news that could be helpful. Today would be no exception. He glanced toward the rear of the line of travelers and decided he would have a long wait before his father-in-law reached his current position, he had time to visit with the Atwell father now.
As he approached, Charlie hid his surprise when he realized a soldier was among the riders. He found it even more curious that behind him, the blonde-haired daughter who he seldom saw up close peeked around the soldier’s shoulder to observe him. She, like her mother, usually stayed close to the house during the time Charlie’s people traveled along the trail.
Charlie also found it interesting that she sat behind the soldier—a man he now recognized as one he met earlier in the year—not her father or one of her brothers. He could only assume the pair were courting. Having lived in the white world for many years, Charlie knew the Americans went about courtship and marriage differently than the Kaw. He also knew that, even though the cousin was younger than the Atwell woman Leander married, if she lived among his people, she would already be a wife with a child or two.
In his tribe, if a brave wanted a particular woman as his wife, he gave his prospective father-in-law ponies and other acceptable gifts to win approval to be given the daughter as his mate. In Charlie’s case, because Spotted Horse did not favor his mixed blood, for him to win Meadowlark, it had taken two years of offering gi
fts. Spotted Horse required he prove his ability as a warrior and his commitment to the tribe.
Charlie also knew, if a brave was wise, before he approached her father, he would make sure the woman he selected wished to mate with him. In his case, before he even considered who he wished to marry, Meadowlark let him know she chose him.
Charlie reined in his horse and greeted Jefferson. “It is good to see you again. Have you heard more about your son who was wounded in battle at the Powder River?”
“Yes, they brought him back to the hospital in Fort Leavenworth. His company is due to be mustered out any day, if they haven’t been already. The doctors want to keep Otto there longer until he recovers more.”
“I’m sure he fought well and bravely. The Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Sioux are all powerful warriors. Please tell him I hope he recovers soon.”
“Thank you. I’ll tell Otto when I next see him. His mother and I will visit him for Christmas.” Jefferson held out his hand toward the soldier. “Charlie, allow me to introduce you to our guest, Lt. Jake Burdock.”
Charlie turned and nodded to the soldier. “We met last spring.”
The soldier nodded. “Good to see you again, Mr. Gray Cloud.”
Charlie deliberately broke into a wide grin, which he knew tended to throw people off. Although most of the time only his gray eyes betrayed his mixed heritage, he knew they did not expect to see the smile he inherited from his father filled with teeth like a white man. “It is Charlie or Charlie Gray Cloud, no mister.”
“My apologies. I’ll remember for next time. I do want to say, I appreciated the information you passed along after you joined Mr. Jones just above Fort Zarah. Since that entire territory was new to me then, I found it helpful.”
“I’m happy I could help. We Kaw also have trouble with the Cheyenne attacking our people. With the buffalo lands shrinking, we find ourselves competing for the same camping spots and herds to hunt.”