The Lieutenant's Bargain

by Regina Jennings

  Maybe that was something to consider. Hattie couldn’t think of a time she didn’t know about Christmas. She tried to imagine what kids who had never heard the story might think about God sending His Son as a baby to earth. With her parents, siblings, and cousins gathered around the tree at her grandparents’ big farmhouse by the river, it seemed so traditional, but how strange it must feel to the students.

  “I hope you feel safe during the celebrations,” Hattie said. “But I guess you have the troopers to guard you when the children are together.”

  “Guard us?” Mrs. Lehrman’s brow wrinkled as she looked at Jack. “Why would we need to be guarded from the children?”

  Hattie pulled her arm away from Jack’s. “Just something Lieutenant Hennessey said that gave me that impression.”

  His mouth quirked up at one corner. “Let us know if you need some help with the pageant. There’s not much to do in this cold weather besides sit around the house.”

  “Seems like that’s exactly what a newlywed would want to do,” Mrs. Lehrman said.

  Jack’s hand slipped around Hattie to rest at her waist. The familiarity shocked her. Who did he think he was? Her husband? Before she could shrug him off, he pulled her against his side.

  “I’m trying to spare my blushing bride from any embarrassment,” he said.

  “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Mrs. Lehrman beamed. “God ordained marriage. Nothing would please me more than knowing that you are happily wed.”

  “I’m happy,” he said. The flash of teeth was probably supposed to be a smile. He kept the carnivorous grin as he turned to her. “Aren’t you happy, dear?”

  He’d said silence was all he required, so that was all he got. Hattie returned his endearments with a blank stare as she tried to comprehend why she felt so right against him.

  Nonplussed, he squeezed her waist and laughed. “Capital! Then, without further ado, let’s go see the children at work.” Releasing her, he marched to the interior doors and held one open wide for her to pass through as he waved good-bye to Mrs. Lehrman.

  For a while, the only sound down the long corridor was the clopping of their heels against the black-and-white tile floor. Finally, Jack’s chuckle broke the impasse. “It’s surprising how easily people believe that we’re a couple. Mrs. Lehrman saw nothing unusual about us being together.”

  It was times like this that Hattie had a hard time remembering this was the same boy from back home. She didn’t quite know how to handle this man, and it was a troubling realization.

  “You lied about the knife,” she said. “Mrs. Lehrman didn’t act like there was any danger at all.”

  “I didn’t lie. A student did pull a knife on the superintendent. It was even in the Cheyenne Transporter newspaper. And I told you that you weren’t likely to get stabbed.”

  “But the way you said it made me think that I’d be in danger if I didn’t take your arm.”

  “You would be in danger. In danger of missing the opportunity to be escorted by your charming husband.”

  She grunted. “My husband? The last thing in the world I was looking for on this trip.”

  “Happiness often catches us unaware.” He’d always been ready with a smart remark, but they were more effective coming from this grown man than a spindly boy.

  A woman’s voice could be heard ahead. Light filtered into the shaded hallway from an open door. “R says errrr. . . . S says sssss. . . . T says tuh.” Then a chorus of children’s voices dutifully repeated the information.

  Hattie slowed as she approached the door. Peeking around the corner, she could see the Indian students at their desks. Although the class sounded like a primary level, there were children of all ages sitting in the rows. Boys with stern brows and freshly cut hair, girls with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Perched with the same posture that Tom Broken Arrow had on horseback, they carefully enunciated their lesson, but their quick eyes darted about as if trying to find some meaning in the nonsensical cadence.

  Instead of waiting at the door, Jack strode inside. He tipped his hat at the flustered young teacher holding a yardstick and pointing at the letters on the chalkboard. She only had time to wet her lips and brush back an errant strand of blond hair before her eyes fell on Hattie. Her knuckles went white around the yardstick she was holding, but by the time Jack had closed the door behind them, she’d covered her shock and looked as sweet as a confectioner’s mixing bowl.

  “Why, Lieutenant Hennessey, how nice to see you today. Class, let’s greet Lieutenant Hennessey.” She cleared her throat. “How are you doing today, Lieutenant Hennessey?”

  The students got the words right when they repeated them, and even did a fair imitation of her high-pitched, flirtatious tone. Hattie bit her lip to keep from laughing. If Jack had missed her simpering the first time, he could hardly ignore it when it was amplified by two dozen students.

  “I am doing fine,” he said clearly and slowly while facing the class. This time his smile was genuine. “Koonííni’ííni?” he asked.

  “Lieutenant Hennessey.” The teacher put her hand on her hip. She had an easy, natural grace. Then again, one had to be confident to take a teaching assignment in Indian Territory. “We speak English in this classroom. It’s the only way they’re going to learn.”

  Jack’s smile grew as the class shouted out various answers in their native tongue, causing Hattie to wonder again exactly how much of the Arapaho language he understood. And how could he carry on a conversation and not realize that he was being married off to her?

  Finally, he ducked his head and held up a hand. With some carefully spoken words from him, the class settled down. “I apologize, Miss Richert. I didn’t mean to distract your class. Please continue.”

  Miss Richert’s jaw scrunched to the side as Jack directed Hattie toward the last row of desks. Obviously, not being able to place Hattie was eating away at Miss Richert, but for some reason Jack didn’t feel obligated to introduce her. Could it be that this was one of the teachers who had set her cap for Jack? Could it be that he wanted to keep his marriage a secret from at least one person?

  Hattie chewed that thought over throughout the rest of the alphabet. Maybe the marriage had thwarted Jack’s plans, as well. What if he was in love with this woman? What if Hattie’s appearance would ruin their chances of being together? Was he as devastated by the arrangements as she was, or was he a tiny bit hopeful? He seemed to have been surprised, but it would be helpful to know whether there was a shade of acceptance on his part.

  It would also be helpful to know if her so-called husband was going to allow the spunky schoolteacher to continue her attempts to gain his attention. Even a pretend wife didn’t appreciate a husband who allowed women to fawn over him.

  “Very good, class,” Miss Richert said. “You are making Miss Richert so proud of you. No wonder it’s such a blessing to work with you children. You all are so clever.”

  Heads turned toward Jack in confusion, eyes questioning if they were supposed to do something. Had Miss Richert already forgotten that they didn’t speak English? Jack nodded at the students, and it seemed to reassure them.

  A little girl braved a wave at Hattie. She was missing a few of her baby teeth, but her smile was prettier than anything Hattie had ever painted. Hattie wiggled a finger in her direction. The approval in Jack’s eyes embarrassed her. What was he smiling at? All she’d done was wave at a child. Nothing remarkable there.

  “You may be excused for recess,” Miss Richert said, but no one moved. Forgetting the students glued to their chairs, she approached Jack and Hattie again.

  Jack spoke a few words to the class. There was a mad scramble as the students jumped out of their chairs and raced out the door. A shrill whoop sent shivers down Hattie’s spine. Jack stepped closer to her, hands clasped behind his back but giving her the security of his nearness just the same.

  Even Miss Richert noticed. “So, Jack, are you pleased at the progress they’ve made?”

 
; She called him Jack, and Hattie already guessed that he wouldn’t correct her.

  “You’re doing a fine job with them,” he said. He gave a quick salute as Tom Broken Arrow paused before him. Some words were exchanged between them, and then Tom left, looking ill at ease in his school uniform. “Where’s Cold Rain?” Jack asked as he scanned the remaining students.

  “She’s in detention,” Miss Richert said. “She stole the blanket that was on her bed. We hope she’ll confess and tell us what she did with it. Until then . . .”

  Tom had stopped and was listening intently. Did he understand the conversation? He must have felt he had something to contribute, for he spoke to Jack in Arapaho again, repeating the words slowly for Jack’s benefit. Jack asked another question of Tom. When the boy answered, he cut his eyes toward Miss Richert.

  Jack patted him on the back and sent him with the rest of the class.

  It was past time that Hattie be introduced, but Jack was clueless. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice how badly Miss Richert was trying to get his attention, either. Instead he continued to greet each child by name. The longer he waited, the more this teacher fretted over Hattie’s presence, and there was nothing Hattie could say to ease her anxiety.

  Stiffening her spine, Hattie flashed Jack a smile. “I’m sure you and Miss Richert have a lot to talk about. Would you like me to wait in the hallway?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “Why would you do that?”

  Miss Richert cleared her throat. “Jack, I’m so happy to meet your . . . sister?” Her eyebrows rose with hope.

  “This isn’t my sister,” he said. “This is my wife, Hattie.”

  “Your—what?” The end of the yardstick bounced against the ground. “What an unexpected . . . When? Who is she?”

  “Mrs. Hennessey is from Van Buren. She’s a childhood friend.”

  “You’ve known her all along? The whole time you’ve been here, and you already knew her?”

  Hattie feared for Jack’s safety. Miss Richert might be lean, but she looked capable of wielding the yardstick as a weapon.

  Jack looked back and forth between the two women as if not sure what was happening. How could he be so naïve? Hattie decided right then and there that if Jack managed to get her out of this mess, she’d do what she could to help him with Miss Richert. Jack married to a schoolteacher? What could be more perfect?

  “We won’t take any more of your time,” he said, “but you’ll be seeing more of me in your classroom. I promised the chief I’d keep an eye on his nephew.”

  Jack seemed confused when Miss Richert didn’t answer. Hattie pinched the sleeve of his uniform and led him out of the room. Again, they made their silent way through the corridor, Hattie looking at the man at her side with more puzzlement than ever. It was no wonder that Miss Richert had her heart set on him. The way he cared about the children at the school was endearing. And then there were his looks. His deep, intelligent eyes now belonged to a strapping man, capable and rugged. But one thing remained unchanged—he couldn’t figure out what a woman wanted.

  It wasn’t until they were in the wagon and passing the open window of the classroom that Hattie heard the sharp snap of a yardstick being broken in two.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Something is wrong,” Jack said. “Cold Rain shouldn’t be in detention.” He darted a glance at the silent woman riding next to him, nearly hidden by the buckskin coat. “Tom Broken Arrow told me that the girls all swear there’s an evil spirit in their dormitory causing mischief. Cold Rain’s blanket is just one of many things to have gone missing. They are also losing food from the kitchen regularly. The girls swear none of them are leaving the room.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Miss Richert?” Hattie asked. “Wouldn’t she need to know?”

  “I might tell her later, but I didn’t want to contradict her in front of her class. It would embarrass her.”

  “Just like you didn’t want to introduce me? That made her uncomfortable, as well.”

  While Jack thought their day had gone well, Hattie seemed to be stewing over something. True, deciding what to say about his wife and what to keep hidden went against his usual candor, but he hadn’t expected it to weigh so heavily on Hattie.

  He shook his head. “I was busy talking to the kids. I didn’t think you needed my help to speak to a teacher.”

  “But you should have prepared her, Jack. The poor woman obviously cares about you, and you show up with a wife. Can’t you imagine how that made her feel?” Hattie took a deep breath and forced the air through her nose. “If there’s anything I hate, it’s breaking someone’s heart.”

  Jack jangled the reins to speed up the horses before he made a telling remark about Hattie breaking hearts. “Miss Richert doesn’t feel anything for me. She has more important matters to concern herself with.”

  “Oh, Jack. You are hopeless,” Hattie said. “If this marriage were real, you would owe her an apology. As it is, you’ll have to see what you can do for her once you’re free from me.”

  His neck tightened. “When you leave, I leave. That’s the only way.”

  Hattie looked him over like she was appraising him for auction. “Miss Richert doesn’t know what an insufferable boy you were. You might have her fooled, so don’t be surprised if she opts to go with you.”

  Why, oh why hadn’t he sent Sergeant O’Hare to recover the missing woman from the stagecoach? Then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

  The trip from Darlington had never taken this long. Instead of good memories from his visit—like how well the children were progressing and how he appreciated the Mennonite missionaries and their work—Jack was questioning his own behavior. According to Hattie, Miss Richert’s conduct was proof that somehow he’d misunderstood, or she’d misunderstood, or something had gone wrong.

  This was why he preferred books. You just wrote down what you wanted to say, and there could be no miscommunication. Perhaps he should try that method with Hattie. Only he had tried to write her, and she’d never answered his letters.

  Slowly but surely, his long-standing fascination with Hattie was changing. She was still beautiful. He couldn’t look at her without his gut twisting. Her mannerisms, her voice, her deportment had only grown more graceful, yet she wasn’t the perfect image he’d worshiped over the years. There were misunderstandings. She was more reserved than he’d wish, especially to his friends. She varied between strongly opinionated and indecisive. Also, she seemed more concerned with getting to Denver to paint some overrated mountains than about his career, or the Arapaho and Cheyenne, or what would happen if Jack was no longer there to reconcile the situation.

  It was possible that he had a personal bias in the last instance.

  Yes, he should have sent Sergeant O’Hare on the mission and stayed for Major Adams’s wedding.

  By the time they pulled up to his house on Officers’ Row, Jack was ready to get back to his duties as Major Adams’s post adjutant and forget about his women troubles. The troopers who appeared to return the wagon to the livery and the horses to the stables were instructed to help Mrs. Hennessey unload the foodstuffs and to perform any more tasks she might require of them.

  Hattie didn’t move when Jack extended a hand to her. She just sat on the bench, muffled and bundled up, staring straight ahead. If she didn’t straighten out, her behavior was going to attract attention.

  With a step on the wagon spokes, Jack pulled himself back onto the wagon bench. “This isn’t the place for a statement.” He tried to keep his face pleasant, as if there was nothing amiss with having to talk his wife out of a wagon. “If this is about Miss Richert, we should talk about her in private. We can’t make a scene in front of my men.”

  “It’s something that Louisa mentioned,” Hattie said. “She said she and Major Adams had heard a lot about me. Why would she say that?”

  Private Willis walked by carrying a crate of supplies. He paused long enough to let Jack know that he was listening.

  “Maj
or Adams left this morning, and I’m responsible for answering all of his mail and sending his reports. There are things I must attend to, so if this could wait—”

  “It seems to me that you had a sweetheart somewhere that Louisa is confusing me with. Was there more than one woman? Were you stringing along Miss Richert as well as others?”

  If only she knew. Jack wiped a hand over his face, then remembered to smile patiently. “It doesn’t matter right now, dear. My concern is getting you out of the cold. Why don’t you go inside so the troopers can take the wagon back to the livery?”

  “When we struck our bargain, I didn’t think it would be this complicated,” she said. Avoiding him, she climbed out the opposite side of the wagon. Private Willis stood by, ready with a box of goods, and followed her into the house.

  Jack climbed out of the wagon with a groan. He respected Miss Richert and hated that he’d hurt her, but there was nothing he could do to correct the offense. No explanation possible.

  On his way to the adjutant’s office, Jack walked past a unit of new troopers practicing their flanking movements on horseback. The whinny of a rebellious steed carried on the cold air. Jack understood the frustration. He ducked his head low into the warmth of his coat and hurried into his office.

  Sergeant O’Hare saluted when he entered, then handed him the dispatches that should have gone to Major Adams, had he been around. Jack scanned the quartermaster’s report. Was it always this disorganized? How did Major Adams stand it?

  “Send for the quartermaster,” he said. “I want to talk to him about this report.” Numbers on paper should be in neat columns that were clearly labeled. Whatever shorthand the quartermaster was utilizing was not sufficient.

  O’Hare waved Private Gundy out the door with the message.

  Jack stepped behind his desk, but his eyes never left the dispatches. He started to sit and had to thank O’Hare for quickly moving a chair beneath him. A tumble in the crowded office would have been the perfect cap to a miserable morning. The dispatches contained a few telegrams from Washington with general information about the moving of troops, which units would be coming in the spring and which would be moving out. There was nothing about his request to change locations, but that would probably require a more discreet communication.