The Major's Daughter

by Regina Jennings

  What would Caroline say when she learned that he was going to take on the Premiers of Plainview and expose them as cheaters? Frisco spun on his heel and marched away. If he’d judged Caroline correctly, she wouldn’t bat an eye. She’d stand bravely and denounce them with all the confidence of a woman who’d never considered what it meant to lose. He needed her like never before.

  Walking through the spring prairie grass in a Roman stola, Caroline felt a heaviness she couldn’t blame on the delicate fabric. Amber, her best friend, was getting married. At the fort, her father, sisters, stepmother, and most of the people she held dear were gathered. And she would not be with them.

  Lifting the hem of the long, draped tunic so the soft fabric wouldn’t catch burs, Caroline trudged on. She’d worked on her hair so that the copper locks curled and cascaded down one of her bare shoulders. If it weren’t for her old work boots, she’d look like a Roman maiden in the fields, but she wasn’t going to walk barefoot to town. Hopefully her socks wouldn’t leave her feet wrinkly when it was time to take them off.

  What would Frisco think of her costume? He’d tease her, she was sure, but she could guarantee that there’d be admiration in his eyes. Eventually, if they were allowed time alone, there’d be words of admiration as well. He had never failed to pay gentlemanly homage to her beauty when it was warranted. So—he thought her beautiful, but that wasn’t enough for Caroline.

  A complete stranger could declare her beauty without any sense of obligation or commitment. Frisco also complimented her intelligence, but again, that was nothing remarkable. Caroline was smart. A teacher’s examination could verify that fact. The obvious wasn’t what she wanted to hear from Frisco. She wanted something more.

  She readjusted the shawl she had tied over her shoulders. She didn’t want people to see her costume before the grand revealing of the tableau. She hoped she found Frisco and had the money in her hands while still wearing the dramatic costume. She liked to picture herself giving him the money while she was dressed like a Roman heroine. She also liked to imagine him saying things that went far beyond mentions of her looks and intelligence. Words of feelings and emotion. That was what she wanted to hear.

  But what could she say about him? Yes, she could praise him in the common ways that people praised him. He was a handsome man, dashing and reckless in his manners. He was a natural leader, smart, wily, and determined. All were qualities that the most disinterested observer could admire. Did she prefer him because of his looks and talents? That played a role, certainly, but if that was all that was required, then any single lady could be his. What attribute of his made him the perfect one, the only one, for her?

  It was his vision. His view of a future that few could imagine. But he wasn’t just a dreamer. He also had the tenacity to see the task completed. He saw towns and farms where there was only grass. And when he looked at her, Caroline felt that he saw the possibilities there too. He saw what she could be, what she wanted to be. He made her want to do great things and made her believe that she could.

  She’d reached town. Mrs. Bledsoe, the mayor’s wife, greeted her and escorted her to a tent set up within the walls on the former bank site. Maybe Caroline was being superstitious, but it seemed bad form to place the town’s center at the location of the greatest theft the town might ever know. Inside the tent, she left her wrap and handbag. She unlaced her boots, wiggling her toes. She had pretty toes. She wasn’t bragging, just stating the facts. The soft cloth of the stola draped becomingly around her, and the gold rope defined her waist and crossed over her bosom. Generally white was a color she didn’t favor with her pale skin, but with all the bright colors of spring, she thought it was permissible.

  The crowd had gathered outside. In the four years that she’d lived with her stepmother, Caroline had learned to adore performances, and this one would be magnificent. Frisco would never forget it. She picked up her copy of the script and scanned it one last time. She’d even practiced the dramatic gestures. Louisa would be proud. Hopefully Frisco would be proud too. And hopefully Amber had received her letter and would give her grace until Caroline could explain her reasons in person.

  Mrs. Bledsoe returned to escort Caroline to a chair behind the painted canvas screen that hung between the city hall and a wagon nearby. They’d constructed a stage so that the actors would be high enough for everyone to see. Caroline made herself comfortable as she listened to the band rousing up the crowd. A coronet led the song, with a tuba and drum keeping the tempo. Through a tear in the canvas, she watched as people continued to arrive. Already she knew most of them. Already they’d established a camaraderie that had been forged by the hail and lightning the night of the storm. These people, from various corners of the earth, had found a shared identity. They were Oklahomans, and however new that designation was, it didn’t lessen their pride.

  Mayor Bledsoe had taken the stage. Caroline’s mind wandered while he droned on. Her whole family would be at the wedding. Louisa was probably crying over her baby brother. Daisy would be all over the place with excitement. Would Hattie and the baby attend? Probably not. Even if she felt fine, Caroline knew Mrs. Hennessey wouldn’t want to be in society until her gowns fit her again.

  Her ears perked up as the mayor announced the title of her portion. Prosperity and Nobility Taking Root on the Prairie was her cue. Caroline draped her red hair over her bare shoulder and joined the others on the stage.

  Frisco sat in the back of the chapel on the fort. He’d ridden past it many times and been marched past it in handcuffs more than once, but he’d never been inside. It was smaller than he’d imagined. Bare. It left him wondering how the God of the open sky, the God of the vast plains, could be worshiped inside it. Then again, hadn’t he met God in jail cells? Still, he itched to lean out one of the open windows, because this felt like looking at the sea through a pinhole.

  But it was a place of learning and fellowship—he could respect that. And this was a wedding, and it was nice, but it would be nicer if Caroline would hurry and arrive.

  He had searched the chapel for her before realizing that she was probably an attendant for the bride. Major Adams had given him a solemn nod when he spotted him in the congregation and seemed to expect some kind of answer for something. Did he already suspect that McFarland and the other founders were crooked? Frisco would be glad to have the major on his side.

  Before he’d left town that morning, he had met with Mr. Lacroix to tell him that he would take his case. Frisco’s confidence had spread to Lacroix immediately, and before he left, he’d added four other names to the claimants—all men without land who deserved the stolen plots as much as anyone. Frisco might not have gotten to start his own town, but he would still be responsible for helping people realize their dreams.

  Bradley Willis stood up. He’d been sitting in the front row, and Frisco hadn’t recognized him in his suit coat. So it was true? He’d completed his enlistment and was going to try his hand as a gentleman farmer? Well, with their homestead, he’d have a better start than many. He could have had a nice place right on the edge of town—Frisco’s town—but that didn’t look like it would come to pass. Caroline had managed to withstand the boredom, the monotony of chores, and the loneliness that Frisco had thought she would succumb to. She might be there to stay.

  And then he’d be in Plainview to stay.

  Unless he did the unthinkable and proposed a better, more personal offer.

  Everyone stood as Miss Herald and her father appeared at the back door. Frisco looked past the beaming bride, but he didn’t see Caroline. Where was she? Had she run into trouble on the way? But Major Adams wouldn’t be standing at the front of the church if he didn’t know his daughter’s whereabouts.

  Frisco turned to face the front. How had that fool Bradley Willis managed to land such a good woman? From what Frisco understood, Bradley hadn’t had any kind of upbringing. If it weren’t for his sister intervening in their childhood, he could have been raised in the same institutions
Frisco had been. Yet there he was, grinning like his face was going to split, and marrying into a fine family.

  Miracles did happen. Frisco might be asking for one of his own soon. He had looked forward to spending the day with Caroline. He’d wanted to squire her around the wedding and find excuses to walk her back to town and to home, but she’d gone missing, and he could hardly get up and run out of the church to hunt her down.

  The happiness of the marrying couple only made time crawl more slowly. He wished them the best, but he hadn’t come here for them. With all the concerns about his decision to challenge the Premiers, with all the work that lay ahead of him, he didn’t have time for this. He’d make time for Caroline—in fact, he wanted her to know what he’d found. If she understood what he’d learned and why he had to do what he was going to do, then he could face what was ahead.

  If he had her on his side, he could take on any challenge.

  The vows were complete. Bradley leaned back and gave a Cheyenne war cry when the pastor announced that he could kiss his bride. The ladies tittered and the men guffawed when he dipped Miss Herald—no, Mrs. Willis—for a sound kiss.

  Frisco reached for his hat. He’d share his congratulations later. The two of them wouldn’t remember anything about this day besides each other anyway. But before he could skedaddle, Major Adams called his name.

  “When Caroline sent her note, I assumed it had something to do with you.” The major rested his hand on the hilt of his ceremonial sword—at least Frisco hoped it was a ceremonial sword.

  “I thought she’d be here,” Frisco said. “What did the note say?”

  “That she’d been asked to help with something in town. We couldn’t imagine what would be more important than this wedding. That’s why we thought it might be your doing.”

  Getting blamed for Caroline’s disappearance was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. “You think she’d miss the wedding for me?” His chest rose. “I wish that were the case—”

  “Oh, stop your preening. She’ll have to answer for her absence. Just when we thought she and Bradley had smoothed over their disagreement . . . but then I learned that someone put her name on a list of illegal participants in the run. I’m not going to say anything today—it’s his wedding day—but if I find out that Willis did that, trying to put her claim in jeopardy, he’ll wish he hadn’t.”

  Gripping the pew next to him, Frisco kept his smile steady. He’d completely forgotten about the list. It had been a moment’s poor decision—a decision he’d forgotten. “That list is only speculation. Miss Adams has plenty of witnesses to verify her claim.”

  “Of course she does, but I had to answer for it to keep her from a hearing before the Register and Receiver. Willis is lucky he’s no longer under my command, but he shouldn’t rest easy until I get to the bottom of this. When I’m charged with applying the law and my daughter is accused of taking advantage, it’s a disgrace on the level of those deputies.”

  “The deputies?” Frisco held up a hand. “Wait. First, don’t blame Bradley. I have irrefutable evidence that he’s not to blame.” What that evidence was, Frisco didn’t feel compelled to share at the moment. “But what’s this about the deputies?”

  Mrs. Adams nudged her husband with her shoulder. “You’re blocking the aisle, dear. Can you step aside?”

  “My apologies.” Major Adams took his wife by the arm and escorted her through the chapel while still talking to Frisco over his shoulder. “Our orders forbade any soldier from placing a claim. It would have been a conflict of interest for them to officiate while competing with civilians. My troops were prohibited, but the word is that nearly every deputy specially hired for this event took land for themselves. Just think, claiming the best plots for themselves when they should have been collecting the names of cheaters. It’s not right. Why were my troopers excluded, but deputies were allowed?”

  “Major Adams?” Mrs. Adams looked up at her husband. “We’re at my brother’s wedding. Can we find a more pleasant topic, please?”

  “I apologize again, dear.” Then, to Frisco, “I assume you will see my daughter soon. Tell her—”

  “Tell her to have a lovely day,” Mrs. Adams said. “We must congratulate the bride and groom. Please, Daniel.”

  Frisco pulled on his gloves as they joined the wedding party. A lovely day? He hadn’t expected Major Adams to hear about Caroline’s name on the list of sooners, but it sounded like the matter was settled. In any case, finding Caroline and knowing that Major Adams agreed with him against the deputies meant that it would be a lovely day indeed.

  Chapter twenty-four

  The fabric of Mr. McFarland’s robe was as nice as hers, but he didn’t cut as striking of a figure. According to Mayor Bledsoe’s wife, he was the Greek chorus narrating the beauty of what had been accomplished here: raising a civilization from the dust in a matter of weeks, although it felt like it had happened in just hours. Caroline smirked at the thought that the impartial chorus was introducing and celebrating his own accomplishments. But not overtly. That was her job.

  He finished his lines, and all eyes turned expectantly toward the rift in the curtain where she was to make her entrance. She was doing this for Frisco, she reminded herself as she gracefully came to stand next to Mr. McFarland on the stage. Only for Frisco would she be missing her best friend’s wedding. Her lips curved serenely as she surveyed her audience, making sure the rustling had died down before she delivered her first lines.

  “It was high noon on April the twenty-second, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eighty-nine, when the stalwart men and women of Plainview stood on the edge of their destiny, scattered among so many other contenders. Of the hopes and prayers sent heavenward that day, many were for a new start or for financial gain. But there were a few select men whose greatest goal was a chance to create a city on a hill—a city that would be an example to all of brotherhood, duty, and industry.”

  Did Deputy Juarez have a tear in his eye? McFarland must be pleased that he was getting his money’s worth out of her, but when she looked at him, she only saw calculated satisfaction beneath a crooked wreath of laurel. Caroline had harbored suspicions about the Premiers after learning about Frisco’s clients, but if Frisco had found any evidence of misdeeds, he hadn’t shared them with her. She tried to keep her face impassive. Why was McFarland paying her this much? There were several young ladies in the audience who would’ve done it for the honor alone. Of course, they weren’t the major’s daughter.

  She picked up where she’d paused, weaving a colorful narrative of the race and the first stakes struck here on Main Street. Over the years, Caroline Adams had suffered under the strict rule and dogged oversight of her father. It was high time she profited from it.

  But a few people in the crowd weren’t appreciating her recital. Three men stood with arms crossed. They had the look of people who hadn’t slept on a mattress for a good long while. The grumbling came from their direction. Caroline raised her voice while keeping her tone smooth.

  “The heroism and success of the brave men and women of April twenty-second will carry Plainview forward—”

  “Success?” a man in a beaten hat called. “They didn’t succeed. They cheated.”

  Caroline darted a look at McFarland. His jaw had hardened. She continued, “In the spirit of—”

  “Cheating. The spirit of cheating.” This from the man next to the first interrupter. “McFarland, you weren’t at the line, and neither were any of these other men, including your buddy who ran off with all our money. Those plots don’t belong to you, and I’m going to prove it.”

  Stubbornly sticking to her script—Caroline needed that one hundred and seventeen dollars—she tried to speak over the hecklers. Even if she couldn’t be heard, she would finish what she had been hired to do.

  The confused crowd didn’t know where to look. Besides two little girls in the front, whose shining eyes hadn’t left her gleaming stola or the bronze bangles on he
r bare arms, more people were turning to listen to the men in the audience rather than those on the stage. Whatever McFarland had planned, this wasn’t it.

  “Deputies,” McFarland said. From different sides of the square, two men made their reluctant way toward the troublemakers.

  The loudest of protesters stepped back and raised his hands in the air. “You have no cause to arrest me. I’m only practicing my rights.”

  And then she saw Frisco. Caroline clapped her hands together. He would see her onstage after all. But he did not look as impressed as she’d hoped. Only sparing her a brief troubled glance, he pushed his way through the crowd, reaching the men at the same time the deputies did.

  Did Frisco know them? Twisting her hands, Caroline looked again. Were they the men he’d met with by her place on the river? They probably were. That day he’d said they could be in danger—that he’d needed secrecy to meet with them. No wonder. He hadn’t sounded certain of their claims at the time. Frisco had better be careful, or people would think he approved of their behavior.

  He stepped between them and the deputies, and doing what he did best, managed to calm the situation. The deputies backed off. Mrs. Bledsoe motioned to the band to take the stage again. That meant Caroline’s portion was complete.

  But evidently McFarland wasn’t ready to leave.

  She startled at the loud voice next to her. He projected his words as if Frisco were a mile away. “Thank you for intervening, Mr. Smith. It’s a relief to know that you and Miss Adams have the good of the community as your highest goal.”

  Caroline had started to dip her head in acknowledgment when she saw Frisco’s sharp frown. What was wrong?

  “Miss Adams doesn’t know what I know, McFarland. And shame on you for dragging her into this. Next time, keep it between the men.”

  Caroline wasn’t sure what Frisco was talking about, but she hated to be dismissed, especially on the grounds that she was a woman.