Mail Order Penelope (Widows, Brides & Secret Babies Book 23)

by Zina Abbott

  When the captain finished removing the bullet from Sgt. Mulroney and stitched the wound closed, she realized he must feel just as fatigued, or perhaps more so, than she did. She watched as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  The captain grimaced as he removed his hand from his head and held it out in front of him. “I should not have done that. Now I’ll have to sanitize my hands once again.”

  “What needs to be done, Captain? Perhaps I can help.”

  “I need to put a bandage around his leg to keep the wound clean. I think I have one or two more rolls in my supplies chest.” He dipped his hands in the carbolic acid solution.

  “Let me get it for you.” Penelope crossed to the chest and picked up a bandage roll. “You have two more left after this one, Captain.” She turned and handed it to him.

  His hands still damp, he took the bandage from Penelope. “Thank you. By chance, do I have any larger folded cloths left in there? I need something to use for slings when these men are ready to get up more, and I…um…promised the sergeant I would keep him well-covered.”

  Penelope felt the heat move from her neck up to her face. “Of course. I’ll stay in the other room while you have one of the men help you lift his limb to wrap the wound. If you wish for a couple of Jeremy’s diapers for slings, I can spare them. They weren’t boiled, but they were washed in strong soap and rinsed in water with boiled water added to it.”

  “I’ll take you up on the offer. Thank you.” Marcus shook his head. “He needs his clothes washed so he has something to wear when I take him back to Fort Hays. In the meantime, I hope someone has an extra pair of drawers he can borrow.”

  “I’m sure someone can help him. I would, if I was still going to be here. However, with the stagecoach leaving in the morning, the best I can do is to find cold water for soaking the bloodstains. Perhaps one of the men staying here can wash them tomorrow.” Penelope turned toward the kitchen. “Call me when you’re ready for me to return.” Outside the door, someone had piled the clothes removed from the injured men. She scooped them up and closed the kitchen door behind her.

  Inside her makeshift laundry, she checked the wash tub she used for Jeremy’s clothes. Earlier, she tossed in soiled bandages from the first surgeries. At the bottom was her purple gown. This tub is smaller than the one I used at home. Will everything fit inside?

  As it struck her that Lawrence was no longer her home, she paused. It would never be her home again. My new home is in the West.

  Penelope dropped the bundle on the floor. She did not have time to wash her own clothes, but she, at least, needed to rinse them out and let them dry as much as possible before morning. Several of the diapers were dry, so she removed them from the line. She wrung out her gown and put it in their place. When she saw her camisole, she shook her head. The yellow stain that remained would probably be permanent until the sun, over time, bleached it out. For now, I’ll let it dry in my room, away from the eyes of men.

  The sound of the kitchen door opening jolted Penelope out of her reverie. She turned to face the intruder.

  The cook walked in and nodded toward the load on the floor. “Mrs. Humphry, let me get that mess for you.”

  “I was just about to pour my rinse water from the pan into the tub.” She glanced at the chevrons on the man’s sleeves. “Corporal, all I’m doing now is soaking the blood stains out. Please tell whoever is tasked with washing these things tomorrow that this water cannot be used. Everything must be wrung as dry as possible and the water thrown out. The clothes must be washed in fresh water with lye soap, rinsed in clean water, and then put in a pot and boiled for over five minutes. Will you be able to see that is done?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The corporal eyed the cavalry trousers. “Not sure I want to boil the sergeant’s wool britches. They might end up small enough to fit your boy.”

  In spite of her fatigue, a giggle escaped Penelope’s lips. “That’s a good point.” Knowing what hot water did to wool fabric, she sighed. “After getting as much blood stain as possible out, perhaps wash them with soap and rinse them in cool water.”

  Penelope reached around the pile until she found Mr. Pierce’s wool coat. She fingered the cuff of the stained sleeve. “I don’t know if Mr. Pierce will be able to continue his journey tomorrow. I’ll try to wash as much blood as possible out tonight in case he is able. Hopefully, it will be dry enough for him to at least throw it over his shoulders.”

  After the cook poured the rinse water into the washtub, Penelope dropped in the surgery rags and submerged only the stained sections of clothing. She next worked on Mr. Pierce’s bloody sleeve.

  “Oh, captain said to tell you, he’s got the sergeant all settled, and he’s cleaned the table. You can go back out. You let me work on that sleeve, Mrs. Humphry. You already worked hard helping those men.”

  Penelope offered him a wan smile. Yes, I feel like I could drop where I’m standing. And I have a stagecoach to board in a few hours. “Thank you, Corporal. I’ll do just that.”

  Penelope returned to the room where she and the captain had been working. All the lanterns in the room except one had been extinguished. The table was cleared of its oiled cloth, but the furniture had not been put back in place. The medical chest and supply chest were stacked on the floor next to the wall. She turned to the left and saw the dim forms of the four patients and Capt. Garrett stretched out on the floor.

  A lone private, one who had been recruited to be an orderly, rose from the chair in which he had been sitting. He picked up the single lantern still lit and walked toward her. “You and the captain did a fine job on these men, missus. I’ll hold the light until you get up the stairs.”

  “Thank you, Private.” Hiding her damp camisole under the stack of folded-in-half diapers that the heat from the stove had dried, she pulled two off the top. On her way to the stairs, she placed them on the medical supply chest.

  I hope I will find as much fulfillment in my new home as I experienced tonight.

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  Chapter 16

  ~o0o~

  October 4, 1867

  M arcus felt a hand shake his shoulder. He lurched to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. “What is it? One of the men having difficulty?”

  “Pvt. Colby looks like he’s thrashing a little, but I think he’s all right for now. That’s not why I woke you. You’ve got visitors—a sergeant out of the 7th Cavalry and his patrol.”

  Upon hearing Lt. Ezekiel’s voice, Marcus snapped fully awake. His gaze followed the direction the lieutenant faced.

  In addition to perspiration on his forehead, the soldier in question did appear to be squirming as he slept.

  Marcus rose to his feet and brushed off his uniform trousers as he looked for the chair on which he hung his frock coat the night before. “7th Cav? That’s out of Fort Wallace. What’s he doing here asking for me?”

  “Don’t know, sir. I’ll show him in so you can ask him yourself.”

  Marcus ran his fingers through his hair. Aware he had not shaved since he left Downer Station, he knew he appeared less than professional. He didn’t care as far as the sergeant was concerned; it was how Mrs. Humphry would view him that bothered him.

  After looking out the window, his brow wrinkled, and he shook his head. As light as it is, the stagecoach has already left. He closed his eyes and held back a groan. I missed her. I did not properly thank her for her help. His biggest concern was the niggling feeling he could not shake that, because she refused to listen to reason, she was traveling into a bad situation for her and her son.

  At the sound of light footsteps almost running down the stairs, Marcus turned to face the new arrival.

  Mrs. Humphry, her eyes wide with distress, with her son in her arms, ran into the room. “Who allowed me to sleep so late? Please tell me I didn’t miss the stagecoach.” She turned to face Marcus. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Did you tell
them to leave without me?”

  Marcus straightened as if at attention and jutted his chin. “No, I did not. In spite of my reservations about you continuing this journey, I assure you, I’ve only been awake a few minutes myself.” He watched her mouth drop open as she her eyes darted around the room.

  “Then why…?”

  Lt. Ezekiel stepped forward and interrupted her. “Mrs. Humphry, the coach is still here. After yesterday’s attack, the driver refused to leave the station. Capt. Conyngham shares his concerned. He worried they would anticipate the coach leaving this morning and wait for you a couple of miles to the west. As it turns out, that was not the case. However, after the news that was just brought to us, it was Capt. Conyngham who ordered the stagecoach to stay at the station until we have an assurance it can proceed safely to Pond Creek.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus caught Penelope’s confused expression. The lieutenant’s remarks confused him, too. He turned his gaze to the lieutenant. As grateful as he felt that she would not be traveling away from the station today, he also wished to know why the captain saw fit to hold the stagecoach. “Are you at liberty to tell us what decided him?”

  “I’ll let the sergeant tell you, Captain.” Lt. Ezekiel nodded to someone behind Marcus. He next addressed Penelope. “If you’d like to take a seat at the table, Mrs. Humphry, I’ll send the cook out with some breakfast. I believe he made porridge for you and the child.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  Marcus stifled a sigh of relief. He suspected Mrs. Humphry was not happy about the delay, but, at least, she did not argue about it. Now it was time to find out why someone sought him out. He turned to face the man waiting to speak with him.

  A sergeant saluted him. “Capt. Garrett? I was sent to find you.”

  Marcus’s gaze took in the man who was a member of one of the companies belonging to the prized regiment headed by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. At least, that was Custer’s rank until he was relieved of his command in disgrace after deserting his post to search for his wife. While he had been chasing the Cheyenne, she had been hurried from Fort Wallace not long after the great flood in June. He returned the salute. “What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

  “Sir, I request your services at Smoky Hill Springs Station. Our patrol that was escorting a supply train was hit west of there. We turned back because the station is larger and has better fortifications than Henshaw Springs. We have three wounded, one who is in serious need of a surgeon, sir.”

  Marcus threw his hands in the air. “How did you even know I was here? And what about the post surgeon for Fort Wallace?”

  “Sir, our surgeon went with the troop sent to drive the Cheyenne away from Big Timbers Station. It gets a lot of activity, sir, since the stagecoach company that set up this route saw fit to build that station in the middle of an Indian burial ground. When the supply train passed through here, they learned a surgeon from Fort Hays had been sent for. I was ordered to come here and wait for your arrival. Frankly, sir, I didn’t expect you until later tonight.”

  Marcus looked off to the side to take in the front sitting room housing his four patients. I have my hands full here. Yet, because the Fort Wallace Post surgeon is seeing to men sent to defend a station some idiot built in the middle of sacred Indian grounds, they want me to be in two places at once? “True, Sergeant. Knowing I had two badly injured soldiers waiting for me, I pushed both the coach driver and my men to get here as soon as possible.” He muttered as he looked down. “Good I did, or I probably would have been greeted with at least one dead man.” Now, this sergeant, faced with the same situation with his escort patrol, needed him to go farther west to another station.

  “Sir, the infantry sergeant who was part of our patrol is the senior officer. He refuses to escort any coaches either direction until we get our men taken care of. Since they already have a supply train holed up there, it was his decision to pass along to Capt. Conyngham the suggestion any coaches here be detained for a couple of days. However, he sent me with orders to persuade you to come tend to our wounded.” The man inhaled and blew out his breath. “It’s only twelve miles, sir. My men and I will escort you there.”

  Marcus huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “I’ll come with you, Sergeant. However, I have several things to take care of here first. Tell your men to get something to eat. We’ll try to leave within the hour.”

  The sergeant saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Marcus turned to the lieutenant. “Lt. Ezekiel, will you please send one of your men to ask for Cpl. Chester, my ambulance driver? Also, I’ll need to see a Pvt. Belton. He’s with the cavalry troop that accompanied me.”

  “Certainly, Captain. I’ll have them sent for right away.”

  “Thank you. I’ll check on my patients while I wait for Mrs. Humphry to finish her breakfast. Then I need to speak with her.”

  Only, when Marcus turned his gaze to the table where he had last seen Mrs. Humphry and her child, she was nowhere to be found.

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  Chapter 17

  ~o0o~

  C lutching Jeremy to her as he rode on her hip, Penelope burst through the kitchen door leading outside. She grabbed the handrail and ran down the stairs. Please don’t let me trip on my hem. After traveling several steps down, she looked up and caught sight of the sergeant halfway to a group of soldiers standing by their horses. She felt panic set in. Asking a personal favor of a stranger was difficult enough. She dreaded doing do so in front of an audience. Spurred by the need to attract his attention before he reached the others seemed more important than being proper, she called out to him. “Sergeant?”

  The sergeant stopped and spun in place to face her. “Ma’am?” He retraced his steps to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. “May I help you?”

  Out of breath, Penelope inhaled before she spoke. “Yes, I hope so. You said you’re from Fort Wallace?” At his nod, she smiled. “If you happen to return to the fort before I do, would it be possible for you to give a message to someone at Pond Creek? I understand there’s no real mail service, although the stagecoach will carry local letters between stations.”

  “That’s true, ma’am. I can make no guarantees that my men and I will arrive before your coach. If we do, I’ll be happy to carry a message.”

  Penelope sighed, and her face lit with a smile. “I don’t have one written out. It’s just that Mr. Harvey Layton is expecting me. I wish him to know why I’ve been delayed.” Her voice caught, and she watched in confusion as the man’s expression slid into one of disdain as he stepped away from her.

  “Harvey Layton? You’re going to Pond Creek to be one of his girls?”

  After blinking several times, Penelope stammered as she clutched Jeremy tighter to her. “One-one of his…? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sergeant. I…” Her mouth open, she shifted her gaze to a second soldier who approached.

  “The horses are watered and ready to go, sir.”

  Penelope tensed as he turned to her with a flirtatious wink. “And what do we have here, Sarge? It’s not often we see a lovely lady out this way.”

  “She asked me to take a message to Harvey Layton telling him she’ll be delayed.”

  A delighted grin blossoming on his face, the private stepped toward Penelope. “Honestly?” After he studied her from her head to her feet, he smirked. “You’re going to be one of Harvey’s new girls?” He nodded several times. “Oh, you’re awful pretty. You’ll be real popular with the men.”

  The sergeant turned his scowl away from Penelope and glared at the private.

  The soldier eyed her like she was a disreputable woman. She felt the tension ramp up inside her. Whatever can they be talking about? She lifted her chin. “I believe there is a misunderstanding. After carrying on a correspondence with Mr. Layton, he and I agreed to marry. That is why I am…” Penelope stopped speaking as she watched the private clutch his sides and, tw
isting his body, he burst into laughter.

  “That’s enough, Private!”

  Penelope glanced between him and the stone-faced sergeant who barked the order. Something is terribly wrong. “Please explain what you find so humorous.”

  As his laughter subsided, the private wiped one eye. “Sorry, Miss…”

  At the end of her patience, Penelope snapped out her words. “It’s missus. I’m a widow.” Behind her, she heard the door to the kitchen close. She clamped her back teeth together. These men have turned a simple request into a circus act, and now I must deal with an audience? She glared at the private. “I’m waiting for your answer.”

  “What’s going on here, Sergeant?”

  Penelope recognized the voice. As she listened to footsteps clatter down the wooden stairs, she closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. Of all people to witness my humiliation, why does it have to be Capt. Garrett? Although she did not turn her head, she sensed when he stepped on the ground and stood immediately behind her and off to her right side. They did not touch, but she could feel the heat from his chest against her arm and back.

  Both the sergeant and private came to attention and saluted. The sergeant then stared straight ahead without making eye contact with anyone. “Sir, I believe there had been a misunderstanding. The lady asked me to give a message to Harvey Layton, but I don’t believe she understands the nature of Mr. Layton’s business. Sir.”

  Penelope refused to turn her head as the man standing behind her asked the question for which she also wished the answer.

  “Exactly what is the nature of Mr. Layton’s business, Sergeant?”

  “After he was drummed out of the Army up in Nebraska several years back, he set up a saloon in Pond Creek, just outside the military reservation.”

  Penelope felt the blood drain from her face? A saloon? The business he wants me to help him with is a saloon? As tremors began to course through her body, she clutched Jeremy even tighter in an effort to keep her trembling from being visible to the two soldiers. She especially wished to hide it from the man standing behind to her. While in the presence of these men, I cannot—I will not—lose my composure and appear to be more of a fool than I suspect Harvey Layton has already made of me.