Cristabelle_The Christmas Bride

by Hebby Roman

  “I’m glad everyone is excited. But in the meantime, I want you to take twenty of your men into México and—̕”

  “Oh, very good, sir, all the men have been asking to raid into México like Commander Mackenzie did. But I don’t think twenty men will be—”

  “Captain MacTavish, I applaud you and your men for their eagerness to storm into México, but for the time being, we will follow a policy of containment. The War Department is tired of getting Mexican complaints about our soldiers compromising the sovereignty of their country.”

  He cleared his throat. “No, what I want is for you and twenty men to go to every Mexican ranch and invite all their owners within a hundred-mile radius. Also, every alcalde of any town or village—”

  “Alcalde, sir?”

  He waved his hand. “Means mayor in Spanish. In other words, I want all the headmen here for our July Fourth celebration.” He steepled the fingers of his hands. “Sergeant Donovan knows how to speak Spanish. Doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, sir, taught himself from a book when he was first stationed here. Takes every opportunity to practice on the locals.”

  “Take Donovan with you.” He lowered his voice. “And I want you to keep the reason for these invitations strictly to yourself and, of course, Sergeant Donovan. It was his idea in the first place. Let him do the talking and have him keep his eyes open. Am I understood?”

  MacTavish’s eyes bulged out, but he managed to come to attention and salute. “Very good, sir. Can we leave tomorrow, or do you want us to leave today?”

  “Tomorrow is time enough. Let’s find the poor child first. One thing at a time, MacTavish.”

  Someone knocked on his door. “Could you get the door on your way out, Captain?”

  “Yes, sir,” Captain MacTavish said and saluted again.

  “Thank you.” Gregor wondered who else needed to see him this early in the morning. He really should get home to his daughter.

  Chapter Five

  Crissy found herself in the dark and the same copse of trees, outside the fort’s front gate, waiting again. But not for the same reason. If she never saw Davie Donovan again, it would be too soon.

  A corporal pulled back the heavy gates, as the sun was showing itself over the horizon. She would need to get an excuse for Isabel from the commander for being late, but the soldiers needed to know about Ellie before they sent scouts to search for her.

  She sailed past the on-guard corporal with, “Good morning.”

  “Uh, good morning, Miss.” The corporal tipped his flat-brimmed cavalry hat.

  She looked neither right nor left, marching as fast as her legs would carry her to the headquarters’ building and hoping the commander would be in his office. Yesterday morning, he’d mourned and buried his wife. To Crissy’s way of thinking, yesterday morning seemed like a life-time ago.

  A man in a long, white coat was crossing the deserted parade field. She recognized him as Dr. Irving. Offering thanks to the Blessed Virgin Mary, she ran up to him.

  “Dr. Irving, sir, can I ask you something.”

  He peered at her over his spectacles. “Crissy, you’re out and about early.” He pushed his glasses with his index finger and nodded. “But I forgot, all you laundresses must be at it early. Commander’s orders. Yes?”

  “Yes, sir, and I’m on my way to the commander’s office with a bit of news. But I’m glad I found you first.”

  “Oh, and what might you need, young lady?”

  “It’s about the medicine for my mother.” She looked down and willed away the tears forming in her eyes.

  “Oh, Crissy, I’m sorry.” He touched her arm. “The medicine should have been on the stagecoach, but it was attacked and burned.” He sighed. “I’m very sorry. I will send again, straight away, for the medicine.”

  “Please, sir, I want my mother to get better.”

  “Oh, well now, Crissy, your mother’s condition is… delicate. The medicine will soothe her coughing, which is important because it stops her from hurting herself, internally. But she needs rest and lots of nourishing food.”

  He stroked his pointed, metal-gray goatee. “I’ve been sending for some medical journals, and there’s a doctor in New York state who has had some success with rest, proper exercise, and three meals a day. His methods are new, but he claims to have cured himself, and now he’s opening a place to take care of patients—calls it a sanatorium. And he believes clean, dry air also helps. We’ve plenty of that. I know you’re worried about her—”

  “More than worried, doctor. She’s started to cough up blood.”

  He raised his head and stared at her. “When?”

  “A few droplets, last night, sir.”

  “Well, hmmm, did you notice how red the blood was?”

  “Sir?”

  He put his hand on her arm and patted her. “Please, Crissy, don’t worry. I’ll go and examine her right away, and I’ll telegraph for the medicine again. Should be here on the next west-bound stage.”

  “Thank you.” She gulped, realizing her mother’s condition might be more serious than she’d thought. How would she live without her mother?

  She had a thought. “Is it the cost? I’ll pay whatever it takes for my mother to get well. Anything, anything.” She grabbed his sleeve and tugged on it.

  He pursed his lips. “It can be costly, the medicine. Five dollars a bottle, but I—”

  “I understand. I’ll get you the money and more. You wait and see.” She stiffened her back, knowing she must speak to the commander about the money owing her.

  The doctor lowered his head. “Let’s take one step at a time, Crissy. I’ll examine her and send for the medicine again. All right?”

  “Yes, sir. Please, Dr. Irving, help her.” She hesitated, marshalling her thoughts. “There’s something else, too. The child who escaped from the stagecoach attack—I found her last night. I think she’s fine, except for some scratches and bruises. My mother said she was suffering from shock, but she took care of her. I think you should take a look at her and make certain she’s all right.”

  “Why, Crissy, that is good news.” The doctor looked up at the headquarters’ building. “Have you told the commander?” He smiled, a gentle smile. “Of course, you haven’t. It’s where you are headed. Am I right?”

  “Yes, Dr. Irving, I wanted to let the commander know as soon as possible.”

  “Good girl. And don’t worry, I’ll look at the child, too.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Irving, for everything.” From the corner of her eyes, she saw a corporal with a trumpet, coming from the barracks. She nodded. “I best get to it.”

  “I understand.” He bowed. “I will see you later, young lady.”

  Crissy turned away and found the headquarters’ building in front of her. She ran up the front steps and raised her fist to knock on the stout wooden door. An officer, a captain, by the look of the bars on his uniform, opened the door as if he’d been waiting.

  Nodding, she said, “Good morning, Captain. I’ve important news for the commander. Is he in?”

  The captain stepped aside. “Right this way, Miss…?”

  “Uh, Miss Smith. I work in the laundry, but I have something I need to tell the commander, straight away.”

  “Captain MacTavish, dismissed.” A deep, gritty-sounding voice greeted her. “Miss Smith, is it? Please, come in and state your business.”

  The captain bowed to her and let himself out the door. She walked inside and stood before the commander’s desk.

  As a gentleman should, Lieutenant Colonel Gregor got to his feet and offered, “Please, Miss Smith, have a seat.” He rocked back on his heels and looked her in the face. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

  “I work for Isabel Garza in the laundry.” Her face heated at his intense scrutiny. She sat down in one of the two chairs. “And I will be needing an excuse for being late today, sir.”

  “No problem, Miss Smith.” He leaned down w
ith one outstretched arm propping him up, as he scratched out a note. “Here,” he said, extending his hand with the scrap of paper. “Give this to Isabel.” He straightened again and seated himself. “Now, Miss Smith, what can I do for you?”

  The strident notes of the bugler broke the silence before she could answer. And she knew the call well—it was reveille, the official waking of the troops.

  She knotted her hands together in her lap, waiting until the trumpeter finished. “I’ve come because we, my mother and I, found the child from the stagecoach raid.”

  The Commander stood up again. “Say what, Miss Smith?”

  “The child, she’s a little girl. We’ve found her. She must have run the whole five miles after seeing her Ma and Pa killed. She was hiding beneath the Brackett General Store’s front porch. I found her and took her to my mother last night.”

  “Miss Smith, are you certain? Lieutenant Bullis is mustering out twenty of our best scouts to—”

  “Oh, yes, sir. I know the child is who she says she is. Her name is Ellie Anderson. If you saw the way she looked and heard her sobbing all night, you’d believe me.” She hesitated and twisted her hands in her skirts. “I would have brought her with me, but my mother wanted the doctor to see her first. Then she’s going to get Ellie new clothes from Mrs. Brackett.” She shook her head. “She tore her clothes, running through the brush to escape.”

  The commander narrowed his eyes. “Miss Smith, I know I’ve seen you before. And not at the laundry. I believe I’ve seen you at my home. Am I right?”

  She’d made up her mind, after talking to the doctor. And after seeing how her mother was with Ellie. No more lying, no more subterfuge. Her mother deserved better. She’d see they had the best money could buy—at least, until it ran out.

  “Uh, yes, sir. You’re right. It’s the other reason I wanted to see you. To confess and ask for the pay you… or Miss Phillips owes me.”

  “What are you talking about, Miss Smith?”

  “I helped, these past six weeks, to take care of your wife without pay.”

  “Why on earth would you do such a thing, Miss?”

  “Because my name isn’t Miss Smith. I guess it’s Miss Shannon, though, Renzo Martinelli owned me as my father.”

  “The Mr. Martinelli who was killed…” The commander looked up at the rafters of his office. “Building this headquarters building?”

  “Yes, sir, he claimed he was my father. But I don’t know for certain because my mother was a ‘lady of the night’ in San Antonio, where I was born. Mr. Martinelli couldn’t marry my Mama because she was married before, to Ian Shannon. He ran off to the gold fields in California and left my mother to fend for herself.”

  “Really, Miss Smith, er, Shannon, what a story,” he sputtered. “And why do you feel the need to confess now? Especially, as you must have obtained your employment with Mrs. Garza under false circumstances.”

  “Oh, please, sir, don’t blame Isabel. We became acquainted, both being members of the Catholic Church in town, and she knew how desperate my mother and I were, after my father died. She said you wanted young ladies of blameless reputation, especially, if we’re unmarried.” She looked down. “I took the false name of ‘Smith’ so no one could trace me back to my mother.”

  “All right. I understand.” He lowered himself into his chair again and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “What about this pay I owe you… or is it Miss Phillips who owes you?” He tried to smile and failed. “I’m afraid that part has escaped me.”

  “Miss Phillips found out my true identity…” She looked up. “Probably from Mrs. Brackett.” Leaning forward, she placed one fisted hand on the edge of his desk. “Please, sir, don’t mention it to Maxine, as we live behind her store, and there’s no place else—”

  “Yes, yes,” he interrupted her, his voice sounding weary. “I get the gist of it. Your secrets are safe with me, Miss Shannon.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now the pay part, please. If I owe you money, I would like to know why or how or…”

  “Oh, yes, well, Miss Phillips found out my true identity, and when your wife was… failing, she took me from the laundry and threatened to reveal my mother’s past if I didn’t help her take care of your wife.” Crissy shook her head. “By then, it was too much for her to do alone, taking care of your wife and the house and all.”

  He snorted. “Miss Phillips did that, did she?” He covered his face with his hands and mumbled, “No wonder I never liked the woman.”

  “Yes, sir, she’s not a nice person.” She softened her voice. “But your wife, sir, your wife, she was a wonderful and kind lady.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “A kind and sweet lady, Mrs. Gregor. And to be fair, too,” she gulped and admitted, “Miss Phillips loved your wife and took good care of her.”

  The commander stood again and pointed at her.

  Her heart stopped. Would he order her off the post? Would she and Mama be thrown out of their room at the general store without a cent to their names?

  “You’re hired, Miss Smith, er, Shannon. Crissy, is it?” He nodded. “Starting today. I’ll have Miss Phillips removed to the hotel in town until the eastbound stage arrives. I want you to take care of my daughter, Peggy. She’s spoken of you, but she always called you ‘Crissy.’ I didn’t know.”

  He scrubbed his hand across his face. “The last few weeks of Martha’s illness were a nightmare. I wish I’d paid more attention, but it hurt…” He sucked in his cheeks. “I wish Miss Phillips would have told me that she needed extra help.”

  “Yes, sir. Given the circumstances, I don’t think she wanted to bother you.”

  “Yes, I guess not.” He sat back down. “I guess not. But don’t worry, you’ll be paid, now I know.” He looked at her. “How does five dollars a week sound? Beginning back six weeks ago, I owe you thirty dollars.”

  He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a pouch. He shook out some silver dollars and counted them. “Here, Miss, er, Crissy, this is for your back pay and for two more weeks. We’ll expect you an hour after reveille, and you can return home after supper is served. Or you can stay with us. We’ve an extra room. Which would you prefer?”

  Crissy’s heart expanded in her chest. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She didn’t know what to say, how to feel, or what to do. If she listened to her heart, she’d get on her knees and kiss his hand. But no one did such a thing, these days. Did they?

  “I’d prefer to stay with my mother. Can I tell my mother and Isabel, and start tomorrow?”

  He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Of course, tomorrow is fine.” He got to his feet again. “Let me see you out, Crissy. Oh, and can you bring the child to me, after the mid-day meal, with your mother, please.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You won’t be sorry. I’ll take good care of Peggy and your home.”

  He smiled. “I know you will, Crissy. You’ve already proven your devotion. Peggy will be over the moon. She’s spoken very kindly of you.”

  She ducked her head, swallowing. “I’m glad, sir.”

  He stuck his head out the door and called, “Orderly, orderly… Corporal Livingstone, could you please fetch Lieutenant Bullis immediately, and tell him there’s no need to muster out the scouts.” He turned and smiled again. “This young lady has found our missing child.”

  * * *

  Crissy plunked down several silver dollars on the long counter at the general store. “Here’s what we owe you for the month, Mrs. Brackett, for our victuals and rent.”

  “Why, Missy, what did you do, strike buried treasure? It isn’t payday at the fort.” Maxine cocked her head and her eyes gleamed, as if she was savoring a particularly juicy tidbit of gossip.

  “I got paid for helping Miss Phillips. My back pay.”

  It felt good, for once, not to have to scrimp and pinch every penny. It felt good to have money. And it felt marvelous to throw mon
ey at Mrs. Brackett’s too curious, calculating countenance.

  Maxine’s mouth dropped open, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Who paid you? I mean won’t Miss Phillips be leaving—?”

  “As soon as the eastbound stage comes, she’ll be leaving. And the commander paid me.”

  “But, but, you didn’t—?”

  “Oh, yes, I did.” She tossed her head back, proud of herself… for once. “I told the commander everything. And he hired me, at five whole dollars a week, to take care of his house and daughter for him.”

  “You told him everything?”

  “Yes, Maxine, I told him everything.” And she would have liked to tell Maxine to mind her own business because her mother’s past couldn’t harm them.

  The older woman frowned. “Well, I never. I surely never.”

  “Good morning to you, Maxine. I need to tell Mama the good news.”

  “Dr. Irving is back there. I wouldn’t—”

  “Wouldn’t interrupt?” She wheeled around and placed her fisted hands on her hips. “I sent the doctor to her. He needs to examine my mother and resend for some medicine. He’d ordered it from Austin, but it got burnt up with the stage. Besides, Ellie is there, too.”

  “Who’s Ellie?”

  “Never you mind. I’ll tell you later.”

  “Well, if you’re to have another boarder back there, you’ll owe me…”

  Crissy turned her back on Maxine and walked down the long hallway, letting the woman fuss without waiting to hear what she had to say. Besides, it would do Maxine good to not know the latest news until they were ready to tell her. She doubted Ellie would be staying with them for long, anyway.

  She couldn’t wait to tell her mother what had happened. How their lives had changed in such a short time.

  She opened the door and called out, “Mama, I have the best news!”

  She glimpsed her mother and Dr. Irving, huddled together at the table. The doctor had his arm around her mother, and her mother had laid her head on his shoulder.