The Lieutenant's Bargain

by Regina Jennings

  “Where should we set up?” The barber unfurled an apron. “Right here at the desk?” His thick, curling mustache waggled like mouse whiskers.

  “That would be fine,” Mrs. Lehrman answered. She closed a ledger and removed a stack of books from the desk. “Mr. Broken Arrow is already a handsome man. This will only make him more distinguished.”

  Jack knew the words were kindly meant, but they would mean nothing to the boy. Only acceptance from his own tribe mattered, and there the results were mixed. So far, most of the children who’d quit the school had gone back to their old ways in a hurry to prove they hadn’t changed. Wearing a school uniform and hard-soled shoes and keeping a short haircut wouldn’t earn them any respect in their villages. But those who had finished the upper grades in Darlington, or who had gone on to further schooling at the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, learned to be comfortable in white culture. Some were able to help their tribe through the skills they’d learned, like farming or commerce, or through legal means once they understood the importance of the contracts and treaties signed by the tribe.

  Would Tom Broken Arrow regret his decision to come to the school? Would all that he learned here be rejected as soon as possible, or would he find some benefit to the lessons and the language they would teach him? From the look on his face as he sat in the headmistress’s chair, Tom had his doubts.

  Hattie leaned against the half wall that separated the headmistress’s office from the waiting area. With the entrance of the superintendent and a barber, she could hide in obscurity. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to make of Jack’s actions and wasn’t as composed as she would wish. Especially before the knowing eyes of Mrs. Lehrman.

  Instead of apologizing, when Jack looked at her now, he watched her like he was evaluating her for treatment. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he react like a normal man? On the other hand, Hattie had been courted by several normal men. They were so predictable. And none of them had ever tempted her away from her independence. This was something else altogether.

  She knew the Indian boy. It was Tom Broken Arrow, and from the looks of it, he was going to get a haircut. Someday she would paint children with that particular combination of the school uniform with braids. Very few of the boys had that. None besides Tom, now that she thought of it. He was the only one. And that was going to change in a matter of seconds.

  Hattie looked the boy over. In the village, she hadn’t seen one Arapaho man with short hair. They just didn’t do it. Would Tom be an outcast when he went home? Would he even be allowed to go home? Leaving her spot against the wall, Hattie stepped forward.

  Tom took his seat bravely, avoiding eye contact with anyone. While the barber and superintendent spoke encouragement as they draped a cloth over his wool jacket and white dress shirt, Tom didn’t understand their words. Not that they would have been much comfort even if he could.

  Hattie was transfixed. The light hit his soft bronze cheeks and reflected into his eyes. What did those eyes see? Did they see a future more glorious than he could imagine, or did they see sorrow at what he was leaving behind? He was determined. His hands clutched the arms of the chair as if they were all that kept him from darting out the door. Determined, but what else? Fearful? Maybe a touch of hopefulness, too? All this Hattie saw, and she knew she could get it on canvas.

  She jammed her hand into her reticule and felt around until she laid hold of a pencil. Then, flipping the headmistress’s ledger to the back, she ripped out a blank piece of paper. Blue lines sliced it up into columns, but Hattie wouldn’t be bothered by them. They might even come in handy as a graph for her next attempt, and she was already convinced that this portrait was worth a more permanent canvas.

  Quickly her pencil skimmed over the page, catching Tom’s narrow face with the cheeks still rounded from childhood. The apron added nothing to the picture. It would be better to paint him in his school uniform. Who didn’t remember the pride and optimism that went along with their new school clothes in the fall? She had to hurry to get his braids. Of course, her pencil couldn’t catch the opaque sheen that reflected blue, but she wouldn’t forget.

  Lastly, and most importantly, was catching the spirit of the moment. The fear and hope warring inside of him. The questions of who he would be once this change took place. Where would he fit in?

  Hattie understood his conflict. Before coming to Fort Reno, she was committed to success in Denver. She was convinced that she would only be happy when she’d proven herself with her art, and if the majesty of the Rocky Mountains couldn’t inspire her, then nothing could.

  But here was a boy who challenged her thinking. The mountains were beautiful works of a mighty God, but was there anything that showed His loving creativity more than people?

  The barber picked up a heavy pair of scissors. Hattie’s pencil lifted, and her hand stilled. The boy’s eyes darted to the side, catching sight of the metal. His braid was tugged out to the side, away from his head, and the scissors slid against his ear. Hattie could imagine the feel of the cold blades. The boy’s chin wrinkled, and then just like that, the braid was cut and taken out of his sight. Tom’s hand lifted as the barber went to his other side. Hattie watched intently, trying to record every emotion that passed on his face. His fingers combed through his hair, then flicked free where the braid had always been. He passed over the spot again, this time going back up and ruffling the bluntly cut hair that had been tied down before. The cut on the other side was just as quick. Mrs. Lehrman exchanged a relieved look with the superintendent once the braids were dropped in the dustbin.

  Tom started to stand, but the barber stopped him with a hand at his shoulder. “We’re not done yet, son. Still have to trim you up.”

  “He doesn’t understand,” Mrs. Lehrman said. “Lieutenant Hennessey, can you help?”

  Tom turned to look at Jack. His eyes were worried. His tightly controlled emotions had nearly broken free.

  Jack knelt in front of him, and after a few words, Tom seemed to relax. Jack’s honest face remained calm and reassuring, much as it had when he’d found Hattie huddled inside that tepee. It struck her again how valuable her friend had become for the people at the reservation. His ability to mediate and his respect for them had the power to smooth over many hurtful situations.

  “Go ahead,” Jack told the barber. “He’s fine.”

  With a comb and scissors, the barber worked his way around Tom’s head, straightening up the ragged places. Dark, straight hair dusted the apron. He didn’t frame the boy’s face but left the hair one length, with the front locks long enough to push behind his ears.

  “I think I’ve done enough,” the barber said at last. He brushed off Tom’s shoulders and untied the apron. His shoulders sloped. “There’s another one fixed for you.”

  While they were morose, Jack seemed determined to brighten the mood. Hattie couldn’t understand the words he said, but she could read him like the books he loved so well. The corners of his eyes crinkled up, and his eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch. Jack was squatting at Tom’s knees and leaning forward. Whatever he was saying, he said it with warmth and gentle coaxing. A crease appeared in Tom’s smooth cheek. Although not happy, his eyes settled into acceptance. The ordeal was over. It was time to get back to class. With all the other boys in the school having undergone the same initiation, he had no reason to feel alone. In fact, he would stand out less now. The true test wouldn’t come until he returned home.

  Somewhere during their conversation, Hattie had picked up her pencil again. The tone had changed, and so had her subject. This time she wanted to capture the bridge, the one who filled in the gap between the two cultures so they could better learn to understand each other. True, he might be bound by his oath to don a uniform and serve in the military, but there was no doubt that Jack’s heart was with these people.

  And these were the people he would have to leave, because of her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jack should have been taking a
dvantage of the last half hour of their ride to tell Hattie what was on his mind, but instead he sat on the wagon bench next to her and silently watched the clouds scurry across the sky as they rode back to the fort.

  This was torture, and it was time for it to end. Jack cared about Hattie too much to derail her plans, and after nearly kissing her, he didn’t trust himself to keep his distance. He’d transgressed against her for too long. He had to let her go for both of their sakes. The sooner she was gone, the better.

  If only he could be assured that she was safe.

  Their evening meal at the restaurant in Darlington had been a quiet affair. The troopers waited in the warehouse, eating whatever they’d frittered away in their knapsacks, until Jack gave them word it was time to head back. He’d miss these men. He’d miss all of it. Who could have guessed that finding Hattie would put an end to his career? But surely God had other plans for him.

  They reached the fort as the sun went down on the early winter evening. Jack turned the wagon toward Officers’ Row and noticed that the lamps in the Adamses’ house were lit. Had they returned? His gut clenched. If Major Adams was back, there was no reason to delay his departure. And knowing Major Adams, he’d have all the paperwork in order already. This period of confusion and heartache was about to come to an end, and hopefully peace would follow. Hopefully Jack could set aside his fruitless daydreams now that he knew Hattie had no room for him in her life.

  Jack stopped the wagon and helped Hattie disembark. He paused at the door to his house. “I’ll be back in a bit. You don’t need to wait up for me.”

  “After such an exciting day, I couldn’t sleep yet.”

  Ten-year-old Daisy’s raised voice could be heard from next door. Major Adams was definitely home.

  “There’s something I have to check on,” he said. “Excuse me.” He ushered her into the house, closed the door on her confusion, and marched next door.

  Maybe etiquette would say that one didn’t interrupt the post commander the night he returned from his honeymoon, but Jack had questions that needed answering. His breath steamed in the cold air as he waited at the door after knocking. The youngest Adams girl’s voice could be heard as she twisted the doorknob and swung the door open.

  Jack blinked into the brightly lit parlor. “How are you, Miss Daisy? Did you have a nice trip?”

  Daisy swung the door open wide and motioned him inside. “Lieutenant Jack! I have so much to tell you. We rode a stagecoach all the way to Tahlequah. It was so cold. And Grandmother and Grandfather met us there. We went shopping with Grandmother, and I wanted to buy you a book about Napoleon for Christmas, but Grandmother said it wasn’t becoming for a lady to buy a bachelor a Christmas present. I told her that you were married now, and she said that made it even worse, but I think she didn’t want to pay for it. You see, I had no money—”

  “Daisy, is your father home?” While Jack was fond of Daisy and her big sister, Caroline, his mission burned with urgency.

  “Pa!” she yelled up the staircase. “Lieutenant Jack is here to see you.”

  “Jack?” Major Adams moved into the hallway at the top of the stairs. He had to step over an open traveling case in the hallway before descending. “What’s the matter? It must be important if it can’t wait until morning.”

  It was odd seeing Major Adams in civilian clothes. Just another reminder that Jack was intruding on family time.

  “It is important. My transfer request—where are they sending me?”

  Major Adams’s eyes shifted. “Let’s go in my office.” He laid a hand on Daisy’s shoulder as he passed. “Tell your mother that we have company.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted. Then she bellowed with all the strength of her healthy lungs, “Mother, we have company!”

  Major Adams merely shook his head. “Louisa is doing wonders civilizing the girls, but it’s going to take some time. They were left without any feminine influence for too long.”

  They entered the major’s office, which was nearly as familiar to Jack as his own. Major Adams took his seat behind his desk, while Jack tried not to wear a hole in the rug as he waited for his answer.

  “Now, about that transfer—” Major Adams said.

  “Everything has been calm since you left. There are troops still out hunting for the bandit and we haven’t tracked down the lapse in communication between the two forts concerning the escort for the payment, but the tribes haven’t demonstrated against the delay yet. The only negative news is that enrollment at the school continues to diminish. The Cheyenne and Arapaho have no reason to doubt that Hattie and I are man and wife, but it’s only a matter of time before that falsehood is exposed. It would’ve been good if we could’ve waited for the marshals to talk to her, but I’ve gotta get Miss Walker on to her destination before we ruin everything.”

  Major Adams’s forehead wrinkled while a ghost of a smile haunted his face. Perhaps Jack was being immature, showing up at this hour and blurting out everything just as carelessly as young Daisy had, but it was better this way. The sooner he could learn his fate, the sooner he’d be reconciled to it. And the sooner Hattie would be off his hands.

  “Have you shown them a convincing picture of marital affection while I was gone?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes, sir. From our behavior in public, no one could doubt our love.” Especially if they saw them skating together earlier that day.

  “And what about your behavior in private?” It wasn’t a tease. Major Adams was gathering information before he decided his course. Jack knew him well enough to expect it.

  “My behavior has been that of an exemplary gentleman.”

  “That’s a pity.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea the strain I’m under. I’m going to lose my mind. The only thing keeping me sane is that you said you would get me reassigned, and I would be dismissed as soon as you returned.”

  “I may have overstated the case,” Major Adams said. He dropped his pencil to the desk. “I thought by the time I returned, you’d have this all straightened out.”

  “How am I supposed to straighten it out? You ordered me to stay here and honor their ceremony.”

  “And you’re doing a poor job of it.”

  Jack gripped the back of the chair in front of him. He didn’t want to be blunt, but something drastic had to be done. “Has my transfer been approved? Yes or no?”

  Major Adams grimaced. “There hasn’t been a transfer request made, exactly. If I had known how adamant you are about separating from our guest, then I would’ve taken the request more seriously.”

  Adamant? Major Adams had yet to see how adamant Jack could be.

  Hattie held the curtain aside in her lonesome bedroom. Every room in Major Adams’s house next door was lit. Louisa Adams and Caroline could be seen in the parlor, hanging Christmas greenery, while the youngest girl danced around with an Indian doll. The scene looked warm, homey, and much different than the silent house Hattie was standing in. She reached for her coat. Why should she be alone while Jack visited with their neighbors? The ladies would welcome her.

  She barely had to knock before the front door swung open. Daisy clapped her hands together in delight. It was the best greeting Hattie had received since leaving Van Buren.

  “Welcome home,” Hattie said.

  Instead of answering, Daisy put her finger to her mouth and shushed her. “Father and Lieutenant Jack are having an important meeting. You can come help us decorate the parlor. Tomorrow, Father is going to get us a Christmas tree. Caroline says it’s too late in the season and that we’ll just have to take it down again, but Father said that it’s our first Christmas all together, and we’re going to celebrate it properly.” Taking Hattie by the hand, Daisy dragged her past the office where Jack and Major Adams were involved in a heated exchange. Thankfully, they were both too busy to notice her passing outside the door.

  “You have no idea how loathsome this has been,” Jack was saying. “The pretending is wearing me slic
k. You promised that you would end it when you came back, and unless you want me to desert, you’d better see to it.”

  Loathsome? Hattie’s stomach plummeted. She’d felt bad about invading his house, but if she’d known how strongly he resented her, she would have bought a ticket on the first stagecoach out of the territory. At the very least, she wouldn’t have accepted his coat when he offered it.

  Sweet Daisy continued pulling her along. Trunks and bags lined the wall, with a pile of dirty laundry waiting in the basket for the wash. These little details were what Hattie would focus on to keep her composure. Otherwise, she would be a sobbing mess. Who would have thought that Jack could hurt her feelings so badly?

  “Hattie, what a pleasure.” Major Adams’s new wife looked a little uncertain. Although a great beauty, Louisa seemed uncomfortable in society, even here in her own parlor.

  “I’m sorry to come over uninvited. I wanted to welcome you home.”

  Half of Caroline’s red hair had escaped her chignon, but she had all the confidence her stepmother lacked. “Are you looking for your husband?” she asked. “He’s only been here a few minutes, but I’m sure you miss him terribly.”

  Hattie could only pray that they mistook the flush on her cheeks as a bride’s embarrassment.

  Louisa dropped a green bough onto the hearth to come closer. “I apologize for leaving Jack in charge so soon after your wedding. When we planned our nuptials, we had no inkling that he’d follow so soon. I hope you were able to spend time together, despite his duties.”

  “I’ve seen him more than I expected to, but sometimes I think he’d rather be alone.” Hattie hadn’t meant to let that slip, but she was so confused. If Jack couldn’t stand her, wanted to be rid of her, why did he find reasons for them to go places together? Why would he swear he wasn’t being false?