Fort Laramie

by Courage Knight

  Carrie signed, too, before she changed her mind again.

  Julie folded both contracts and tucked them into her backpack. "I'll make sure these get to his office tomorrow. Now, let's get some sleep."

  * * *

  Tom rubbed his eyes with his palms, wishing the pressure could do something for the headache he'd been nursing the past couple of hours. Seeing Carrie's face when she realized he was in charge had nearly floored him. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, like she might not even do the summer internship at all. He must have really misjudged that one. He thought she'd been attracted to him, even though she'd turned him down. He wasn't sure if she just thought he was too much older, or what was keeping her from going out with him, but her look today was more like she didn't ever want to see him again. How could he have been so wrong?

  Carrie checked off a lot of items on his "must have" list for a perfect partner. She loved history. She was smart, modest, and according to her application, she knew how to cook. She was so tiny, he felt an instinctive need to protect her every time she was around. He didn't actually know what it was about her that he found so attractive, only that he really wanted to know her better. But somehow, he must have scared her off. This summer would be a lot longer if he had to keep his distance from her - and how was he going to do that, now that she'd been assigned to be his wife?

  Maybe it wasn't too late to change things around?

  There were two other girls going - Julie Martin and Vicki Hastings. Julie was going to be the blacksmith's wife, and Vicki Hastings, an education major, was going to be the teacher in the one-room schoolhouse at the fort. Vicki was the best choice for the schoolteacher, which meant he could only swap Julie and Carrie's assignments around. But somehow, sending the girl he found attractive to his best friend for the summer just didn't sit right. Adrian could be a flirt, even though he didn't mean anything by it. But Carrie wouldn't know that. What if she fell for him, and he broke her heart? No, if Carrie signed the contract, she'd have to be his wife. He'd just try to limit their contact as much as possible. At least she'd have to sign the contract before she found out what part she was playing.

  Adrian knocked on the doorframe, then entered through the open door. "Hey, buddy," he said, slinking into a chair. "I thought that went well."

  Tom shrugged. "I guess."

  "So which one was she?"

  "Who?"

  "Don't play games with me. The girl - the one you like so much. The tall, slender brunette? No - the redhead. That's it, isn't it? You got a thing for redheads, don't you?” Adrian ran his fingers through his own scruffy strawberry-blond crop.

  "No, she's the blonde," Tom said heavily.

  "A blonde? I didn't even see her. The short one hiding at the back of the classroom? Geesh, she didn't look old enough to date. Are you sure she's even legal?"

  "She's a sophomore, you dope," Tom said. "Her application says she'll be twenty next month."

  "Maybe she lied," Adrian insisted. "People lie on their applications all the time."

  "It doesn't matter. She's made it clear she's just not interested."

  "Like I said before. She can't be that smart, then."

  "Thanks," Tom said, forcing a smile. The sooner he got rid of his friend, the sooner he could start on a real sulk. "I'm heading out there over spring break to speak to a contractor about getting the educational center up. Do you want to go with me?"

  "Sure thing. I can't wait to get a look at the blacksmith shop. When I'm not hammering horse shoes for the tourists, I can work on other stuff, right?"

  "That's right."

  "So, you're going to pay me to be a blacksmith, and I'll get paid for the products I sell. Nice gig. Wish it was full time and not just for the summer."

  * * *

  A week later the girls were on time for the second meeting for the summer internship. This time the fickle Wisconsin weather brought forth warm spring winds, the scent of tulips and hyacinths, and even a few kites soaring above the shops on State Street. Eleven of the chosen twelve had signed the summer commitment contract. One student had to regretfully decline, as a death in the family meant he was needed at home. A new student had already been selected to fill his position - a tall, silent computer nerd who was going to develop and maintain the web page and social media for the program, and sometimes double as another soldier.

  "I hope I get to do something exciting," Julie said.

  Carrie shrugged, fiddling with her jacket zipper.

  "Like, maybe I could be the wrangler, and ride horses off into the sunset every night," Julie continued, grinning impishly. She was treated to another indifferent shrug. "Maybe we'll both take a rocket to the moon - Carrie! You aren't even pretending to listen to me. What's wrong now?"

  Carrie sat up straighter, tossing her tangled main over her shoulder. "Nothing," she said. "Everything. I'm nervous. Okay? I've never done anything like this before. It's all a bit much - going so far away, away from everyone I know, for a whole summer. Camping with a bunch of boys. Working without air conditioning. What if I hate it?"

  "I forget that you're actually from here," Julie added. "Haven't you ever gone anywhere before?"

  "Sure I have. But always with Mom and Dad. I know that sounds pathetic to a world-traveler like you, but the farthest I've ever been from home before was Girl Scout camp. And that was only three hours away. This is four states away! And we committed to the whole summer. Twelve weeks. What if I'm miserable?"

  "Then at least you'll have me for company," Julie said cheerfully. "Now pay attention - looks like things are about to begin."

  Julie was right, as Tom McKay called for everyone's attention. His voice was deep and confident, easy to listen to. Carrie felt something shiver down her spine. Yes, he was definitely dangerous. She could picture herself with someone like him so easily! Why did she have to meet him now? Why couldn't he just go away and come back in a few years? After she'd lived a little - maybe did some traveling, met new people, had some fun?

  He turned his gaze on her directly, as if he knew she hadn't been paying attention. She squirmed, hoping she wasn't blushing, but her cheeks felt too warm for that to be true.

  "Originally called Fort William, it was purchased by the American Fur Company and the name changed to Fort John," Tom continued.

  Carrie saw Julie write it down, as though they were going to be tested on it later. She focused on Tom then, trying to listen to the rest of his presentation.

  "Later the Army took over the fort, providing protection to travelers along the Oregon Trail, and later the California and Mormon Trails. Fort Laramie is probably a shortened version of Fort John at the Laramie River. Those of you selected to portray soldiers will be posted at various places throughout the fort - the military barracks, the jail, the store, and on Vicki's day off, at the school.

  "The school had a difficult time keeping teachers. When there were no civilians available, a soldier was assigned to teach for an additional thirty-five cents a day. It was very unpopular among the soldiers. According to historical records, when a soldier got sick of teaching, all he had to do was get drunk on the job and he'd be fired. There were a few times when deserters were caught, brought back in shackles, and made to teach. One young man wrote in his diary that nothing the deserter could say was as interesting as seeing him in shackles."

  One student waved his hand excitedly. "I'll play him - the teacher in shackles!"

  Several others snickered.

  "Deserters were usually horsewhipped first," Tom said dryly.

  The student lowered his hand, suddenly less enthusiastic.

  "Twice a day all soldiers will muster - they will assemble on the parade grounds for formal inspection. We'll raise or lower the flag, depending on the time of day. We'll have a firing demonstration, so each soldier will learn how to load, clean, and shoot their weapon.

  "Chayton, will you stand up, please?"

  An older student stood, waved, and slunk back down into his chair. Carrie had never
seen such long, dark hair on a man before. It fell down his back, touching the seat of his chair. For that matter, she'd never seen such long hair on a woman, either, except in pictures.

  "Chayton is finishing his certificate in American Indian studies, with a double major in History and Theater. He'll be presenting Northern Plains culture for the tourists this summer."

  "Now he's cute," Julie whispered, nudging Carrie's shoulder.

  "He looks like trouble," Carrie answered. Chayton had a few tattoos and a scar on his forearm.

  Tom McKay continued speaking, ignoring the girls' back-row chatter.

  "Finally, Julie Martin will play the blacksmith's wife. She will present civilian life at the fort, while Carrie Carson, who portrays the base commander's wife, will be posted at the Burt House where she will demonstrate spinning and weaving."

  Base commander's wife? Carrie sat up straight, her hand shot into the air. "A wife? Why can't we be widows? I didn't sign on to get married this summer."

  Some of the boys whistled and joked, offering to take her on as their wife. Tom shushed them. "As I said, she will be the base commander's wife. I am the base commander."

  Carrie felt herself shiver. Her grandmother would've said someone had walked across her grave, but Carrie was sure her physical reaction was an intuitive feeling of impending catastrophe. She was just Irish enough to trust her intuition.

  "I thought you were the administrator. Why are you playing a role too?"

  "Limited funds. I'll be doubling up as administrator and Fort Commander. William Burt was either in charge, or second in command during his tenure at Fort Laramie. I'll be kept pretty busy with running the fort, working with the soldiers, but we may have to work together for a few activities. I trust that won't be an issue?"

  Carrie sniffed, feigning an indifferent shrug. "Pretend husband," she muttered. "Don't get any ideas!"

  "Of course not." Tom bowed his head briefly in an old-fashioned gesture of respect. "Well, ladies. Let me know if you have any questions between now and then. If I can be of any service, please don't hesitate to ask. Ms. Martin. Ms. Carson."

  "Damn!" Carrie said, as soon as she thought he was out of ear shot.

  Julie tugged on her arm hard enough to nearly pull it out of socket. "Carrie Anne Carson! Did you lie on your application form?"

  "Huh?"

  "Did you put down that you know how to spin? My gosh! Why would you do that! Now you have to demonstrate that all summer long - how are you going to pull that off?"

  "I've got time to learn," Carrie said. "You know how important this internship was to me! I had to make sure I'd be chosen."

  "And what do you think Tom McKay's going to do when he finds out you don't know a thing about spinning?"

  "Nothing. Because you're going to help me learn."

  "Oh, that's a great plan. I know even less than you do. You're on your own for this one. I bet you would have been chosen even if you hadn't lied, you know. Especially since you think Tom likes you. I just don't know - I don't know what you're going to do now," Julie warned. She tucked her notebook into her backpack and slung it over her shoulders.

  "At least I know how to sew," Carrie murmured. "I can adjust our costumes so they fit better."

  * * *

  The morning finally arrived. Twelve students gathered in the parking lot outside the Humanities building with all their luggage. Tom McKay strutted around with a clipboard and pen, checking things off, going through their luggage and telling them what they could or could not take. He eliminated iPods, iPads, notebook computers, and all sorts of electronic equipment that he deemed unnecessary. They had one van for passengers and one for equipment - space was limited. Most of students grumbled as they handed the forbidden contraband off to a friend or family member to keep for the summer, but it shouldn't have come as a surprise to them. What they were allowed to pack had been clearly listed in the handbook they'd all received at the start of the program.

  Carrie hadn't understood Tom's reticence for electronic gadgets at first. Of course, they wouldn't be allowed to listen to their iPods while in costume - but what would it hurt in the evenings, after the fort was closed and they were relaxing back at their campsite? But then Tom had pointed out that the campsite was primitive without electronic hookups. There would be outlets in the bathrooms, but nowhere else.

  "What are we gonna do all summer," one boy complained.

  "By the time you get back to the campsite, prepare supper and clean up, you'll be ready for sleep," Tom replied.

  "Boring," the boy muttered.

  Tom just laughed.

  Of course, their costumes took up a lot of room! Duffle bags stuffed with woolen army uniforms, gingham dresses with aprons and petticoats, antique props and boxes of camping gear spilled out all over the parking lot. Carrie doubted that it was all going to fit anyway. Maybe they should have shipped half this stuff weeks ago? Still, it was rather impressive watching how Tom got everything sorted and loaded in under an hour's time. If only she were in the market, he was certainly worth considering.

  Finally, Tom went around to all the students, letting them draw numbers from a hat. Mindlessly, they followed directions, not even knowing what the numbers were for. Carrie drew 11; Julie got 2. Then Tom opened the side door on the campus van. "Since we're going to be working together all summer, I thought we'd start with assigned seating. It's a fourteen-hour drive. We'll rotate at every gas stop - so you should get a chance to sit next to just about everyone. All aboard!"

  The front passenger seat was marked with a number 2. Julie sat up front with Tom, who drove, while Carrie was relegated to the very back of the van, where no air conditioning ever reached, and the shocks were shot, so she felt every bounce and pothole. She was wedged between scrawny Doug Slater, who enjoyed a bad case of gas like a vulgar fourth-grader, and sullen Chayton, the scary senior with tattoos and scars. She crossed her arms, rested her chin on her chest and pretended to sleep, even though it was barely nine o'clock in the morning. If she tried real hard, she could hear Julie's and Tom's voices, engaged in conversation that they were apparently enjoying, if their carefree laughter was any indication. Life just wasn't fair.

  Chapter 2

  Tom was beginning to regret his decision to eliminate all electronic gadgets. The students had bickered and squabbled for eight straight hours. What were they - junior high schoolers? What was wrong with kids these days? He wasn't that much older than them, but he felt ancient. He had never been that foolish. He was the oldest in his family, and became the head of the house at age seventeen when his father passed away. He'd dropped out of football to take an after school job. He'd been too busy for foolishness. Mom insisted that he go to college, but he'd chosen one near enough that he could commute, so he was still around to help out at home.

  The exit sign ahead advertised a KOA - saved at last! He flipped on the blinker and sharply cranked the wheel to the right, tossing the passengers into each other.

  "Hey," some of them called out.

  "Sorry," he muttered, without much conviction.

  Adrian, following behind him, laid on the horn as he zipped on past. He hadn't been able to make the abrupt exit. Tom wasn't worried. Adrian had GPS; he could find an alternate route as soon as Tom gave him the address. He slowed to a stop, looking right and left to figure out which direction had the campground. He didn't see another sign, but right looked cluttered with gas-and-go shops, fast food places, and dollar stores. He turned left. A mile and a half later he found the elusive campground. He pulled to the side of the gravel entrance and texted the address to Adrian.

  "Why did you get to bring a smartphone, and we couldn't," one student whined.

  "Because I'm the administrator," Tom said. That was going to be his pat answer to a thousand questions this summer.

  He paid the fee for the night, tucking the receipt into a zippered pocket in his project binder, and minutes later backed into one of the two primitive camping spots he'd reserved. There wasn't
much they could do until Adrian joined them - all the tents and camping gear were in his van. One by one the grumpy undergrads piled out of the van, stretching and groaning.

  "Now what, Teach?"

  "When Adrian arrives, we'll need to pitch our tents. It's much easier to do before dark. For now, take about fifteen minutes to walk around, get the kinks out and use the facilities. Then report back here."

  "Aye, aye, Captain," snapped several of the future soldiers, executing sloppy salutes.

  Someone bumped into him hard enough that he took an extra step to keep from toppling over. It was Carrie. She stomped on by, not even apologizing for nearly knocking him over. He clenched his teeth. He was not going to make a scene... he was not going to start the summer out by fighting with his future wife! But he wasn't going to put up with much more of her attitude, either.

  "She'll settle down," Julie said quietly.

  "I don't know what I did to piss her off."

  Julie patted his shoulder, but just smiled. Then she trotted after her friend. Tom walked back towards the entrance of the park to wait for Adrian's van.

  Ten minutes later his friend arrived, still cussing a blue streak.

  "What the hell kind of move was that! You jerk. Not only did I miss the exit, but I nearly clipped your bumper. Give me some kind of warning next time!"

  "Sorry," Tom said, climbing in the passenger seat. He pointed in the direction of their campsite. "I'll change places with you in a heartbeat. I'll drive the cargo van and you can ride with the monsters."

  Adrian's temper evaporated, which was just like him. Quick to anger, but then just as fast, it was gone. He burst out laughing. "Come on, Captain. They're your troops. You need to be believable as the Army base commander. Have them do forced marches, or drills, or k-p. Find some backbone."

  Tom glowered at him. "Shut up."