The Major's Daughter

by Regina Jennings

  “Yes,” Caroline said. “But you’re being a good mama and feeding her a lot.”

  Daisy flopped on the sofa and hung her feet over the arm. “You’re sure a lot nicer to Allie Claire than you were to me. You haven’t locked her in a closet yet.”

  “She’s done nothing to deserve it. You did.” Caroline pushed Daisy’s feet off the sofa.

  Daisy was in the process of putting them right back where they’d been when the front door opened. Amber jumped to her feet, causing all three of the Adams sisters to look at her in confusion.

  “Oh.” Amber dropped back to the sofa. “It’s only your father.”

  Known to everyone else as Major Adams, Caroline’s father strode into the parlor, his gear and accoutrements jangling. His eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter, but he gallantly turned to Amber first. “Welcome to Fort Reno, Miss Herald. I’m pleased that you decided to visit again. I suppose your day is drawing nigh.”

  “Yes, sir. Corporal Willis and I are counting the weeks. Not that he’s anxious to leave the cavalry, but . . .”

  “No explanation needed. Does Corporal Willis know you’re here?”

  “I believe he saw me from the parade grounds,” Amber said.

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Her father turned to his wife. “I’ll be sure to inform your brother that he’s not to come snooping around after dark tonight. If he wants to speak to Miss Herald, he should apply for permission from me. Since her father isn’t here, I’ll take the role as her guardian—”

  Caroline had heard enough. “Miss Herald doesn’t need a guardian, Father. She’s of age, and you can hardly object to Uncle Bradley’s character. You married his sister.”

  If she knew her father, he was counting to ten before answering her. He only made it to three. “Clandestine meetings after dark can taint an otherwise spotless character. As long as she’s under my roof, she’s my responsibility.”

  “And as long as I’m under your roof too?” Caroline poked the baby doll in the stomach. “I might as well be a toy, just waiting for someone to spoon-feed me and make me play whatever game they require.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Her predicament wasn’t her father’s doing. She only wished that she wasn’t constantly reminded of her status as a dependent.

  “I’m pleased that you want to protect me, Major Adams,” Amber said. Trust Amber to smooth over Caroline’s moods. “While I can’t guarantee that Bradley won’t try to lure me outside—you never know what he might do—I can promise that I won’t leave the house without a proper chaperone.”

  “Thank you, Miss Herald,” Major Adams said. “I’m glad there’s one reasonable young lady here.” He turned toward Caroline and said with genuine fondness, “And how is my eldest daughter?”

  She took a steadying breath. Her father was a good man. As much as it was in her power, she should get along peaceably with him.

  “I’m fine, Father. Thank you for asking.”

  “Your journey?”

  “Uneventful—that is, until we reached Ardmore. Ever since crossing the Red River, we’ve been in crowds.”

  “All of them heading here.” Her father’s eyes roved to the window. “Poor deluded people. Even if they win land in the race, they are far from lasting the five years required before it’s permanently theirs.”

  “But just think what they will accomplish,” Caroline said. “They will have contributed to a new civilization and a new economy. Not many people can say they played a part in building a society from the dirt up.”

  And if it were her building it, it would have different rules than the fort. For starters, capable young women wouldn’t have to go to their rooms when taps sounded, and all the men wouldn’t have to stand and salute whenever her father passed.

  “And how do you propose to contribute to events?” her father asked.

  “Daniel,” her stepmother said, “Caroline just arrived. She’s not even unpacked. Let’s not put too many expectations on her.”

  “It’s all right, Mother,” Caroline said. “Actually, I do have an idea. Outside of Galveston, back on the mainland, we visited the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. They had a whole field of lavender planted in long rows. I could’ve stood there forever. The farmer said it was easy to harvest and very profitable. From it, I could make all manner of soaps, lotions, and other fine things. So much more than we have at the store in Darlington.”

  “You want to put in a farm here at the fort?” A crease appeared on her father’s forehead.

  “Not a farm, just a garden.”

  “There are already gardens,” he said.

  “Those are vegetable gardens,” Caroline replied. “I want to plant something else.”

  “And what are my soldiers going to do with good-smelling soaps and lotions? I don’t see how that furthers their mission.”

  “It’s not for the soldiers. . . .” Caroline’s mouth twisted. “Never mind. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

  “We’re your family, and this is your home. You are welcome to try a garden if we can find a place for it.” Louisa picked up Allie Claire. “It’s good to have all my girls home again.” She widened her eyes at Caroline’s father. He picked up the cue.

  “Absolutely!” he said. “It’s good to have you back. I worried about you being so far away, but I hope you enjoyed the time with your grandparents.”

  A knock on the door interrupted any further discussion. “Maybe that’s Lufftenant Hennessey,” Allie Claire said.

  Her father went to answer the door. Amber stood when she heard it open. Caroline was afraid her friend would burst like a watermelon dropped from a runaway wagon if she had to wait any longer to see her beau. Caroline recognized the sentiment. How many times had she stood like that and listened for Frisco’s voice? Thankfully, she had reined in her youthful exuberance and had never confessed her affections to Frisco. Both Amber and Daisy had teased her about him, but as far as she knew, it was without his knowledge.

  At least she’d been spared that indignity.

  “Thank you for knocking instead of throwing rocks at the window, Corporal Willis,” her father was saying.

  “Yes, sir,” Bradley said as Amber grabbed Caroline’s hand. “I’ve learned my lesson on that score. Besides, Miss Herald couldn’t sneak out of the house as long as you’re still awake.”

  Amber couldn’t wait any longer. Dropping Caroline’s hand, she slid past the sofa to the door, where Caroline’s father turned to address her.

  “Miss Herald, if you have no objections, I’ll loan you the use of my study.” Major Adams called from the entryway, “Just remember I’m likely to walk in at the most inopportune time, Corporal Willis.”

  Caroline took Allie Claire from Louisa and sat on the floor. She was happy for Amber and Bradley, and she wouldn’t disturb them as they made their plans together. Instead, she’d play with dolls while she tried to think of anything besides her predicament.

  He had to tell Amber that their plan was not going to work. Usually only able to entertain one thought at a time, Bradley had been rehearsing the bad news so that he could present it well, but when he stepped across the threshold and saw his beloved, thoughts of the big race scattered like the stables’ barn cats.

  There she was, her ebony hair pulled back from her heart-shaped face. Seeing her all fancy in her green dress made him want to howl in laughter that such a beauty would have anything to do with him.

  She kept her eyes down as she headed through the parlor to the major’s office. Bradley nodded at his sister before easing the door closed. He let the latch click gently, having learned not to slam doors in his brother-in-law’s house.

  Amber had taken a seat at a small table with a chessboard on it. Her shyness was adorable. He’d pull her out of it. Her feistiness was just below the surface, but it had been a long time since they’d met face-to-face. He’d give her a minute, if that was what she needed to warm up to him again.

 
“You’re looking well.” He leaned against Major Adams’s desk.

  She looked no higher than his shiny black boots. “I haven’t changed out of my traveling clothes yet, but it was a pleasant day. No real heat, and it looks like it’s rained recently enough to keep the dust down.”

  “Hmm . . .” He crossed his arms over his chest. She was making upward progress with her gaze. “You must have read my mind, because what I came to discuss was the recent rain and the state of the stagecoach trail.”

  A faint smile played about her lips. Bradley grinned. Higher and higher her eyes came until they met his.

  “Your hair looks blonder,” she said. “And now you’re a corporal.”

  “But not for long.”

  The clock was ticking. Major Adams would interrupt them soon and send him back to the barracks. He’d better make the best use of their time.

  “Four weeks until my enlistment is up,” he said. Four weeks until they would be married, if she didn’t change her mind when she heard what he had to say. “I have some bad news, Amber.”

  She shook her head. She stood and walked to the French doors that looked out over the parade grounds.

  “It’s not what you think,” he said.

  “Are you going to reenlist?” Her voice sounded tiny. “You might earn another promotion soon. That would be good for your career.”

  “That’s not it at all. It’s just that our plan isn’t going to work. Major Adams said that troopers were disqualified from the race. We’re not allowed to claim land while we’re serving in our official capacity.”

  “If you can’t run, then how are we going to get our farm? That was our start.”

  “Those are the rules. Even if I waited until I was off duty on Monday, all the land will be spoken for by then. We won’t get anything.”

  He was used to looking out for himself, but now he had to make allowances for Amber too. Never before had he felt the weight of responsibility so heavily.

  “Then quit,” she said. “Just quit. You’d only lose a month of pay. What’s that compared to getting a farm?”

  “Sweetheart, I thought of that, but I’d lose more than the pay. I’d lose respect.” He held out a pleading hand. “When I enrolled, I gave my word. I can’t just walk away. What would your father think? Or Major Adams? I’d have to live with the shame of it every time I saw our families.”

  “So you’re going to reenlist? When I left home, I thought I wouldn’t return until I became your wife, but now . . . How many years? Another four?”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Look, there’ll probably be a lot of people who are speculating. They’ll get a claim only to sell it to someone so they can make a few dollars. That someone could be us.”

  “But if we spend our savings on the land, we won’t have anything left over for supplies. What will we eat until our crops come in? How will we furnish a house? Mother and Father gave me money for my dowry, but not enough to buy everything.”

  Bradley’s chest rose, and he exhaled a long breath. “It’s my responsibility to take care of you. I’ll figure something out. In four weeks, I’ll be free, and then you’ll be shackled.” He might not have all the answers, but he loved her. That would have to be enough for now. “Why worry now, Amber? I’ve never planned ahead, and it’s worked out so far.”

  But that wasn’t how Amber operated. In her many letters, she’d written about her homesteading plans. She’d mailed him lists of implements they would need and the quantity of seed for one hundred and sixty acres. She’d sketched floor plans for their home. She’d learned the different breeds of chickens and which would make the best layers. In their partnership, Amber laid the tracks, and Bradley was the steam power that would move them in the right direction.

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said again. “The important thing is that you’re here now. Do you know how long I’ve waited to see your sweet face again?”

  Every time they were reunited, it was like they had to get reacquainted. And every time they were reacquainted, he fell in love with her again. She stretched her hand toward him, and he took it. That first touch sent a spark through him—one of both memory and newness.

  “I think about you all the time,” she said, “but when I’m face-to-face with you, I realize how poor my memory is.”

  He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I hope the flaws of your memory are all in my favor.”

  Ambrosia stepped closer and stretched upward, begging him to slip his arm around her waist. “But they aren’t. I forget how magnificent you are. Then when I see you again, I’m taken aback.”

  “Magnificent?” Taking her hand and her waist, he swayed in a silent waltz. “That’s quite a commendation. I don’t have an equal word for you, but I will say that I remember you perfectly. When I see you in my dreams, you look exactly like this, with your hair windblown and your cheeks pink. Your blue eyes are big and reading everything I’ve ever thought, and I’m wishing I thought better things.”

  “What would I be thinking right now?” she asked.

  Dare he tell the truth? He couldn’t lie to her. His smile faded. “You’re wondering if we’re going to make it. You’re wondering if I can take care of us.”

  He knew he could. One way or another, she would have the farm she’d set her heart on. As long as she believed in him, they couldn’t fail.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered as he saw the faith reappear in her eyes. “Enough talking.”

  Their lips met, and that first touch was like a sigh of relief. After months apart, the tension that sparked between them finally had a resolution, but then he kissed her again, and a stronger emotion awoke.

  They could do this. Whether they had a plan or not, they would find a way. His hands walked down her back, pressing her into him. He’d endure a lot of hardships for the privilege of melting into her arms at night. Soon he wouldn’t have to subject their meetings to the call of the bugle and a commander waiting outside the office door to intervene. It would be only the two of them, married in the eyes of God, working together and celebrating their love.

  Bradley laid his head against her neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair as their heartbeats slowed.

  “Most people start out poor and young,” she said. “We’ll figure it out as we go. As long as we’re determined . . .”

  “And I’ll work so hard.” He lifted his head. “If I have to take on extra work, or two jobs, or skip meals . . . As long as you believe in me . . .”

  “It’s getting late.” Major Adams was using his commander’s voice in the parlor outside the office.

  Bradley scrunched his nose as he tried to smooth Amber’s hair. After arranging a few locks, he shrugged and straightened his uniform.

  There was a knock on the door. The good major always interrupted his fun.

  “I expect Louisa will invite me to Easter dinner this Sunday,” Bradley announced loudly. “Then we can talk more.” He winked at Amber as she touched her lips.

  “Yes, that would be splendid,” she replied as he opened the door to the major.

  Major Adams’s gaze took in every detail, but he maintained his professional demeanor. “Corporal Willis, it’s past time that you returned to the barracks. Tattoo has already sounded.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bradley picked up his hat. “Thank you for visiting with me, Miss Herald. Renewing our acquaintance is always enjoyable.”

  Major Adams raised an eyebrow. “Is that any way to talk to your intended?” he asked.

  “It is when my commander is standing in the room, sir.” And with a salute, Bradley said good night.

  Chapter five

  Situated in the shade of a cottonwood near the Darlington Indian Agency a couple of miles from the fort, Caroline swirled the paintbrush in turpentine, patted it clean on a cloth, then handed it back to Hattie Hennessey. Hattie adjusted her growing belly and looked past her canvas at the thousands of wagons and tents spreading to the horizon—settlers camping along the border of
the Unassigned Lands. Hattie lived next door to the Adamses on Officers’ Row and was married to Lieutenant Jack. Usually Hattie painted scenes from the Cheyenne and Arapaho villages, but with the coming of the prospective homesteaders, she’d found another moment in time to record.

  Caroline wished she had something to contribute to the excitement but found herself merely a spectator. A spectator who washed brushes. At least she could do that.

  “Will you send this painting to the gallery in Denver?” Caroline asked. The white canvas wagons contrasted with the bright blue sky and green prairie, but the focal point was the figure in the center. A middle-aged man wearing a suit that had seen better days stood staring out toward the empty prairie beyond the line of wagons. It was poignant. A picture of someone who’d already seen dreams crushed, looking out on what might be his last chance.

  “They said it might not sell as well as my Indian portraits, but I can’t pass up the opportunity.” Hattie flicked a dab of yellow on her subject’s stained satin vest to finish that portion of the painting. “What’s it say to you?”

  Caroline stepped back to get a better look. “It says that at least he had the courage to try once before, and even if he didn’t succeed, he’s going to try again. But there’s a futility to it also. Maybe trying isn’t enough. There’s no guarantee that this time will be any better.”

  Hattie rubbed her stomach as she studied her creation. “It makes me think of how our past makes us who we are. That man probably wishes he could’ve avoided some of the hard knocks that came his way, but he needed them to be who he is today. Just think, had I not left home and gotten derailed by that stagecoach robbery, I wouldn’t even be here. Look at what I gained from that tragedy.” She gave her belly a last pat.

  “Hattie,” Caroline said, “if you didn’t have Lieutenant Hennessey, what would you be doing right now?”

  “I always planned on being a painter. Lieutenant Hennessey was an unexpected complication, but not the end to my dreams.”

  “Well, I can’t paint.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Hattie said, then straightened on her stool. “When you imagine Caroline Adams ten years from now, what is she doing?”