Calico Brides

by Darlene Franklin

  Ruth turned the invitation she had received over and examined it again. “Mrs. Peate invited all of us.” She looped thread around her needle for a French knot and finished the stitch before looking up again. “Did you have any…business…with the soldiers in your former occupation?”

  A pale pink spread across Birdie’s face. “Yes.” The word came out as a whisper.

  All sewing ceased for the moment. Tears formed in Birdie’s eyes. Annie handed her the handkerchief she had tucked into her sleeve.

  Ruth, ever the pastor’s daughter, revived first. “God has forgiven your past. You no longer have a reason to be ashamed.”

  Birdie shook her head, raising her wet face to the others. “But just seeing me might lead some of them to sin.”

  “You comport yourself very differently now. Besides, we’ll be going straight to the captain’s quarters, so we may not run into any soldiers.” Annie scrambled for words to assuage Birdie’s worries. “And you look so different now, they might not recognize you in any case.”

  Ruth nodded. “Your sunbonnet will hide your features.”

  “Please say you’ll come.” A frown formed on Annie’s face. “You don’t want to miss a chance to meet the Bear. If Mrs. Peate invited him.” Even as Annie said the words, guilt assaulted her. Even though he had softened the last time they had met, he might condemn Birdie if he ever learned about her past. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t tolerate less than perfection, or any immoral behavior. Or maybe he was one of the soldiers who… No. Even her worst suspicions about him hadn’t entertained that picture. “Then again…” Annie almost regretted repeating the invitation.

  Resolution animated Birdie’s face once again. “Mrs. Fairfield keeps telling me I should venture more into the community and live the new life Jesus died to give me. I will go to the tea.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Gladys smiled. “Let’s pray that yesterday’s snowfall will melt before Saturday.”

  “I wonder if they distributed the scarf sets before the storm.” Annie changed green yarn for blue. “I’m not wishing for more winter, but I’d like it if the soldiers can use them before next November.”

  The others laughed, and Ruth patted her hand. “They can at least use socks year round.”

  On Saturday they met for an early lunch, and then Annie drove them out to the fort in her father’s wagon. Once they left town, they could see the new grass carpeting the countryside.

  Annie flicked the reins over the horse’s back, and he picked up speed. A figure on horseback flew down the road toward them, fast enough to deliver the message that Paul Revere carried on his important ride. The pace was so fast, in fact, that she didn’t recognize Lieutenant Arnold until he slowed down to greet them.

  The cool air dried the cobwebs from Annie’s throat as she drew a deep breath. “Lieutenant, I wasn’t expecting you to accompany us.”

  The Bear straightened in the saddle, transformed from a Pony Express rider back into a soldier. “We received word of a small renegade Indian band roaming the next county over. We wanted to ensure your safety on the road.” In spite of his wooden appearance, his voice carried urgency.

  Gasps came from behind Annie in the wagon. Gladys asked, “Is Calico threatened, then?”

  “Not so long as you stay in town, Miss Polson. But the commander has expressed concern about travelers headed east.”

  “Thank you for joining us today.” Annie brought her hand to her throat. She glanced at the horizon, empty except for the new grass and a stand of trees in the distance. “Shall we get moving?”

  The lieutenant altered his speed to match the pace of the wagon, traveling at their side and swiveling his head every few moments to spot any potential dangers. When they arrived at the fort, the gate was barred and every guard post manned with two soldiers.

  So much for an unobtrusive entrance. Annie glanced back at Birdie, who was looking away from the fort and had bent her head and folded her hands as if in prayer. There had to be another way. “Lieutenant, we don’t want to disturb the men on duty. Is there a back way to reach the captain’s quarters?”

  Jeremiah nodded as if in approval. “Of course. After we get through the gate, we’ll take a sharp turn to the left.”

  In spite of their plan, the wagon trundled through the gate at the same moment a barked order of “about face” turned all the men in the regiment in their direction. Birdie’s head dropped even lower.

  Military discipline reigned, and the men remained at attention. However, Annie was certain the men would comment on their visit. According to her brother, any alteration to a soldier’s schedule provided fodder for speculation. The arrival of visitors would be the centerpiece of dinner discussion in the mess hall.

  “I apologize for the timing.” Jeremiah didn’t look at her, but the stubborn jut of his chin suggested how much the apology cost him.

  “There is no need. Of course the men are training for the potential Indian threat.” She trusted she was speaking for all of them. They arrived at the captain’s quarters without further commotion.

  His touch as he helped her off the driver’s seat felt soft as he brushed her arms, at odds with his posture. This close, she felt his strength and the urge to provide and protect radiating from him. Qualities that made him a fine soldier also testified to his character, in spite of her initial impression.

  Solid husband material. Annie rocked on her feet as the thought crashed into her mind.

  Chapter 6

  Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder as he followed the ladies to the door. No one had followed them, but he was sure he would be teased, by Chaswell if no one else, about the bevy of women he accompanied that day.

  For now, he focused on the task in front of him. Mrs. Peate insisted he remain with them for tea in case something regarding Annie’s project came up. During the minutes he had spent taking care of the horses, the five women in the small parlor had seemed to multiply, the air filled with high voices, soft laughter, and a rainbow of colors rarely seen outside of flowers in a field. Mrs. Peate had promised her husband’s attendance, but accompanied by two squads, he had left early in the morning to scout out the Indian threat. Jeremiah was on his own with the quintet of women. Shooting a glance at the ceiling, he sent a pleading look in God’s direction. Is this Your sense of humor at work? Because it doesn’t make any sense to me.

  Visible evidence of Annie’s mission hung on the coatrack—Mrs. Peate’s scarf and mittens. They had already proven their worth during the late winter storm. Both personal and practical, the gifts had earned a big thank you on behalf of the company.

  Why did God continue to arrange meetings with the first woman to catch his interest since his fiancée’s death? After today he hoped to put her behind him. The course Jeremiah had chosen since his fall from grace hadn’t changed even if he was less and less satisfied with the prospect of spending the rest of his life alone. Any one of these young women would turn the heads of every soldier in the fort; some of the men might even make good husbands.

  “Come in, Lieutenant. Thank you for escorting our guests safely to the fort.” Mrs. Peate motioned him forward. “Captain Peate is convinced the rumor is nothing more than that, a rumor. If he believed there was any substance to it, he would have insisted I cancel the tea.”

  Jeremiah nodded. He hadn’t been sure if he preferred a postponement over getting the occasion done with. Keeping her voice low, Mrs. Peate admonished, “Come now, Lieutenant. Relax. You never know what will happen.”

  Jeremiah relaxed his shoulders and shook his hands by his side to release some of the tension from his body so he wouldn’t crush a hand in a handshake. The four guests had taken spots around the parlor. He guessed that the one with her dark hair up in a bun must be Ruth Fairfield, the pastor’s daughter and teacher. Gladys’s hair was an ordinary brown. The other two crowns of hair sparkled in spite of the fading light outside the window—Annie’s hair was pure gold, and the last woman had hair the shade of a rich ci
nnamon, almost red. Had Annie told him her name? If so, he had forgotten it.

  Mrs. Peate introduced them to him, repeating each one’s name as if she had known them for weeks instead of a few minutes. He had correctly pegged the dark-haired lady as Ruth Fairfield, the schoolteacher. The redhead, Birdie Landry, made her living as a seamstress. Something about her stirred a memory, but he couldn’t place it. “Of course you have already met Miss Polson, who helps out at Aunt Kate’s diner, and Miss Bliss, who has worked so hard on behalf of the men here at the fort.”

  Annie’s smile widened, implying a long acquaintance instead of their brief encounters. “Mrs. Peate was telling us that you have distributed all the sets I sent. The men who have them were grateful for them when the storm hit, and the rest are looking forward to receiving theirs.”

  Jeremiah thought of his own mittens and scarf, hidden beneath his great coat on the coat tree. After all her work, Miss Bliss deserved a better thanks. “I know I made good use of them myself. The men kept so warm, they had enough energy left over for a snowball fight when they were off duty.”

  The thankful smile on Annie’s face gladdened his heart.

  Annie clapped her hands and laughed. “Wonderful!”

  “In fact…” Mrs. Peate poured tea into a cup and handed it to Jeremiah before she addressed Annie. “Your gift went over so well that I wondered if you would be willing to expand on your original idea.”

  Annie clapped her hands together again then tented her fingers under her chin. Ruth laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “I already started working on sweaters for the men, although I don’t know if they can use them before next fall. Here’s the first one.” Annie reached into the bag at her feet and pulled out her finished product, done in forest greens and sky blues. Form dictated she should give the first sample to the captain, even though she had pictured Jeremiah while she made it. “This one is for the captain.” She handed it to Mrs. Peate.

  Jeremiah followed the exchange with a flicker of interest in his eyes. Mrs. Peate ran her fingers over the yarn, making appreciative noises as she did so. “You do amazing work.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Ruth clucked her disapproval at Annie’s less than gracious response. Annie hastened to add, “I enjoy working knitting needles more than a hook and eye. With three older brothers, I’ve had a lot of practice darning socks and making mittens.”

  Their hostess passed the sweater to Jeremiah, and he took up the conversation thread. He held up the sweater against his chest, and Annie pictured how he would look wearing it. “As long as it’s this weight, it will fit under our uniforms.” He nodded his approval, and a ridiculous happiness grew in Annie’s heart.

  Mrs. Peate refilled their cups of tea then took a sip of hers before leaning forward as if imparting a secret. “The sweaters are a good idea, but I was thinking of something more imminent. My husband and I feel that our young men would benefit from socializing with lovely young ladies such as yourselves.”

  Annie glanced at Jeremiah. His eyes were fixed on the fire, unreadable.

  Mrs. Peate continued. “Are there any upcoming events that our men could attend? A parade, a barn dance, a box social?” Her smile seemed to dare him to disagree in spite of the scowl on his face.

  Annie looked to Gladys and Ruth, the three of them communicating in silence the way they always did when a question arose. Birdie kept her eyes fastened on her lap. She might not welcome the arrival of a bunch of rowdy soldiers in town, especially if any of them might recognize her.

  Then Birdie glanced up. “I think that’s a good idea.” She returned her gaze to her lap.

  “I can think of a couple of events coming up where our soldier boys would be welcome. Gladys, perhaps Haydn knows of others.” Annie looked at her friend.

  “I can ask him if he’s heard anything,” Gladys said.

  “Perhaps we could do more. I know several people in town who have family members in the army. Maybe they would like to adopt the young men so they can enjoy a taste of home.” Annie’s eyes misted as she thought of her brother “And of course, the visits might ease the longing the families feel for their boys.”

  Mrs. Peate’s nod revealed her enthusiasm about the idea. “What a lovely idea. Don’t you agree, Lieutenant?”

  He agreed more readily than Annie expected, although she spotted a gleam of amusement akin to her brothers’ before they planned a practical joke on their unsuspecting mother. Or maybe Mama only pretended she didn’t suspect anything. What had she said? Behind every grown man lurked a small boy who wanted to come out and play.

  Jeremiah looked every bit the grown man when he said, “Of course we don’t want to expose the fort or the town to danger as long as the Indians remain at large.”

  Indians. Annie repulsed a shudder at the thought. Calico had been peaceful for all the years she had lived there.

  “Naturally we will wait until this threat is settled. Lieutenant Arnold, you are the logical person to serve as a liaison with the community. And Miss Bliss, will you represent the community?”

  Ruth normally took the lead in situations like this, but the men at the fort were Annie’s project, not Ruth’s. Annie extended her hand to the man who resembled a bear less and less every time they met and more like an ordinary—perhaps even extraordinary—man.

  For the first time in his life, Jeremiah almost hoped the soldiers might encounter signs of Indian activity. If the men were involved chasing a phantom enemy, they could delay exposure to womanly wiles.

  Not every woman was like Fannie, of course. But his distaste for the task only increased after the women left and Mrs. Peate relayed a bit of essential information, gleaned in a few quick seconds from the woman herself. Redheaded Birdie Landry worked at the Betwixt ’n’ Between Saloon before she came to know the Lord last year. Mrs. Peate promised Birdie was a new person in Christ, and he could trust her. But in case any of the soldiers had strayed with her…

  Jeremiah ground his teeth at the thought. In principle, even prostitutes could be redeemed—consider Rahab and Mary Magdalene—but he found the account of Hosea’s wife more believable.

  Jeremiah brought his attention back to Mrs. Peate, who was still talking. “I know you think you are hard on the men, that they’d rather go to Sergeant Chaswell about their problems, but when it comes to serious questions, they come to you.” She leaned forward. “That’s why my husband recommended you as chaplain at this fort. He saw that men seek you out when they need someone to talk with. He only made it official by getting you assigned here.”

  Jeremiah had no response to that, but only stared down at his hands. Guilty hands, ones that had failed the woman he claimed to love twice. First, he used her in the same way other men had. And then he deserted her when she needed him, and she had paid with her life. Ever since then he had been unable to turn away anyone who came to him for help. He’d taken a vow of chastity—and sworn to keep others from repeating his mistakes. “I just listen, that’s all. And pass on a few words of advice.”

  “And now you’ll advise them about taking part in the community activities.” Mrs. Peate patted his hand. “I’m trusting God for a quick and safe solution to the Indian problem. But you will hear of that before I will.”

  Her prayer must have flown to heaven on wings, because the captain returned the next evening and sought out his officers. He and the scouts had found a few Kaw Indians, doing nothing worse than trying to hunt the long-gone buffalo before returning to Indian territory. After determining they posed no threat to white settlements, the scouts escorted them to the border before returning to the fort with good news.

  The captain kept Jeremiah back when the others left. “I see that Miss Bliss has been busy with her knitting needles again. That sweater she made for me is a work of art.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I understand my wife has suggested the soldiers join the folks of Calico for community events.”

  Jeremiah nodded.

 
; “And that since you and Miss Bliss have established such a good working relationship, that the pair of you should partner on this project as well.”

  “Yes.” Jeremiah kept his answer as simple as possible, hoping his brevity might convey his distaste for the task.

  “Perhaps you and Miss Bliss will partner in other ways as well, hmm, Lieutenant?”

  Jeremiah’s face pulled in a frown before he could stop it. The captain waited him out, forcing him to make some response. “I doubt that, sir.”

  “Lieutenant.” The captain hesitated before he said, “Jeremiah. I have known you these many years. Perhaps the time has come for you to set aside the fears from the past and march into the future that the Lord has for you. God sent Miss Bliss to our fort to do more than distribute hats and scarves.”

  Jeremiah couldn’t get the captain’s words out of his mind as he went to bed that night.

  Is it possible, Lord?

  Chapter 7

  Isn’t God wonderful?” Annie knew she was carrying on like a schoolgirl, but she couldn’t stop herself. Jeremiah was escorting her back home after making arrangements for “adopting” the soldiers. “You identified six young men who could benefit from a homey touch, and we found exactly that number of families willing to spend time with them.”

  “In that case, He supplied in excess of the need. I thought you intended to assign someone to your own family, because of your brother.”

  Annie stopped in midstride. Did the man not realize… ? “He supplied exactly the right amount. My mother and father believe God arranged for my family to take you in. As the spiritual leader of the others, you need a place you can cast those worries aside.”

  Annie had tried to convince Ruth to ask her father to take the chaplain under his wing. Ruth declined. “Why would God want that when He sent the lieutenant to you?”

  Jeremiah drew in a deep breath. “Shall we walk a ways farther?” Instead of heading left toward her house, he pointed in the opposite direction, toward the Keller mansion and the Polson home. Annie could only agree.