Ethel sucked in her breath, then cleared the table. After being instructed that a washbasin was beside the water barrel, she tended to cleaning the dishes. An hour later, she and Albert took their leave and went back to their tent.
Wildon and Hester settled down in the living room. “So how are your parents?” he asked. “And dear Fionna and Penelope?”
Hester burst into tears again.
The evening was a strained affair filled with disjointed conversation and weeping. When it was time to retire for the night, they went into the bedroom. After changing into their nightclothes, Wildon tenderly embraced her.
“Hester, darling,” he pleaded softly. “Please help me through this. It is as difficult for me as it is for you.”
“I love you, Wildon,” Hester said. “I truly do. Let’s not worry ourselves. No marriage begins smoothly under any circumstances. I think that with a little effort, we can put things right.” She smiled and lifted her face for a kiss. “At least a little better.”
He kissed her. “I’m so happy you are here,” he said.
“I want to be with you, Wildon,” she said. Hester took his hand and they walked to the bed. The young wife leaned over and pulled the covers back.
Her scream was almost as loud as when she saw the snake.
Wildon reached down and batted the scorpion off the sheets and onto the floor. Picking up a boot, he smashed the insect. “Hester, dearest—”
Mutely she turned away and spent the night dozing in one of the chairs.
Five
Mrs. Second Lieutenant Hester Boothe’s introduction to the other wives of the regiment was not a spontaneous affair. An undertaking of such social consequence had to be done according to a ritual as demanding as a full-dress parade complete with band and honors.
The woman who took charge of this event was Mrs. Captain Elisa Armbrewster, the wife of Wildon’s troop commander. Mrs. Armbrewster was a stern-faced woman in her mid-forties. The mother of four children who had grown up and fled army life, she satisfied her frustrated maternal instincts by mothering the wives of young lieutenants. Hester, being only eighteen, was junior in age to Mrs. Armbrewster’s youngest. Therefore, she received a double ration of Elisa Armbrewster’s attentions.
Hester was taken in tow on the second morning after her arrival at Fort MacNeil. Firmly in Elisa Armbrewster’s hands, Hester was marched up to be presented to the squadron commander’s wife. This was Mrs. Major Sophie Darnell.
When Hester entered the Darnell quarters, she immediately noticed they were much better than where she and Wildon lived. The lady of the house was a heavy, large-bosomed woman with gray hair and a tired expression on her face. Everything about the fifty-year-old woman spoke of fatigue. Even her subtle snobbishness had a sort of exhaustion about it as if the woman were using the last ounces of priggery left in her soul. Hester found her tiresome and offensive, but bore up under the woman's arrogance during a visit that could only be described as an interview. Before the session ended, Mrs. Darnell knew of Hester’s family—particularly the Bristol Soap side of it—and the story behind the relationship between her and Wildon.
After that ordeal, Mrs. Armbrewster trotted Hester up to the most important personage on the tour. This was the First Lady of the Regiment—Mrs. Colonel Henrietta Blandenberg. She received the callers in a manner befitting a minor monarch. Condescending, haughty, and damned sure of herself, Mrs. Blandenberg conducted her own inquisition. The only difference between her and the slightly faded hauteur of Mrs. Major Darnell was that the regimental commander’s wife subtly displayed her fascination with the fact that both Hester and the young Lieutenant Boothe were monied. Hester sensed a source of succor in the woman. She took advantage of it by bemoaning the fact she had no domestic help. Hester also added the information that she could not cook. Mrs. Colonel thought she could arrange for someone’s maid who cooked to also prepare enough for the Boothes. After all, due to the limited shopping opportunities, everyone ate the same thing, so it wouldn’t be that much trouble to prepare extra. Smiling, Henrietta Blandenberg turned to Mrs. Captain Armbrewster and instructed her to make the arrangements.
After that profitable experience, Hester and Elisa Armbrewster marched right down officers’ row once more. This time it was to meet the wives of the lower-ranking company grade officers—the captains and lieutenants.
Hester looked forward to this, thinking the wives of these officers would be closer to her own age, but she was to face another disappointment. Many of these officers, especially the captains, were middle-aged. The youngest lieutenant’s wife was ten years older than Hester. After that round of introductions, Hester was taken back to her own drab quarters and left there by Elisa Armbrewster who had done her duty and left some strong hints that, in spite of Colonel Mrs. Blandenberg’s special interest, there would be many and varied obligations that Hester would owe her and the other wives who outranked her.
Hester, alone for the first time that morning, reflected on what she’d just experienced. The women had been in the army for many, many years. After so much time locked away in regiments at small frontier posts, they were a provincial group. She sensed that she hadn’t been fully accepted into their close-knit society. Their almost universally cold acceptance and suspicious study of her during the conversations, however brief, told the young wife that she plainly had yet to pay her dues._
Hester also noted that none seemed to have much money. Their dresses were far out of date. Although this could be put down to long periods away from fashion centers, their genteel poverty was also reflected in their homes. The drapes, furnishings, dishes, and other household items were used and drab like their clothing. In her home back in New York, her family gave such clothing and property to the household staff. In fact, these ladies lived in quarters that were not as elegant as those of the Bristol servants.
Now, very displeased and lonely, Hester once again gave in to her tears. The disparity between herself and the regimental family that Wildon had thrust her into was even more apparent. She consoled herself with the thought that at least the situation of feeding themselves had been solved.
That same evening, a corporal’s wife, who worked for the first squadron commander, appeared at the Boothe doorstep with a venison stew and corn bread. The woman seemed pleased with the opportunity to make a few extra dollars each month, and Hester was very happy to pay whatever was asked.
A week later Albert and Ethel, their relief and joy visible, were put aboard the stagecoach that would carry them to the nearest railhead for the return to New York. With them gone, Hester settled into a routine. She got up with Wildon at the ungodly hour on which the army insisted. A half-hour later Sadie Tannon, their shared domestic, showed up with a pot of coffee and hardtack biscuits. Wildon ate, then left for his day’s duties. Hester retired once again to sleep until a more decent hour. She then spent the rest of the day either reading alone or in some sort of activity with the other officers’ wives. If she were at someone else’s quarters, she hurried home to meet Wildon when the regimental bugler sounded Retreat. Her young husband was always hungry and tired after spending the day with his troop. Sadie made yet another appearance to feed them. The evening passed with more reading and talking to Wildon until it was time to retire.
Hester thought it was a ghastly existence.
But, with the announcement of the regimental officers’ ball, she brightened up. The prospect of a gala evening of dancing and socializing was just what she needed to pep up her flagging spirits. The men would don the full-dress uniforms complete with epaulets and aiguillettes, though instead of the usual plumed helmets they would sport their rakish kepis. _
A large portion of the quartermaster warehouse had been set aside for the event. The officers’ ladies, with enlisted men detailed for the lifting and carrying did the decorating themselves. It was at that time Hester saw a slightly different view of army life. The women cooperated among themselves in donating items for the dance. Punch bowls, la
dles, decorations, cake dishes, and even silverware were taken from trunks and brought to the site of the gala event. Mrs. Colonel Blandenberg directed the activities, delegated authority, and personally checked the placement of every piece of bunting. Hester, like the other lieutenants’ wives, did most of the work although there was always a soldier nearby to handle any particularly heavy task. The Mrs. Majors and Mrs. Captains generally saw to it that the Mrs. Colonel’s instructions were properly carried out.
But the method seemed to work. At the end of the afternoon, the entire room was ready. After being dismissed from the detail, the women hurried back to their quarters to dress for the party.
It was difficult for Hester to prepare herself properly. The only mirror available was the hand model out of her hope chest. But with Wildon dutifully holding it, she made sure her appearance was just right.
She wore a rose satin dress with ivory-colored bows. Cut as low as propriety allowed, it was sleeveless. The skirt flowed outward from her tiny waist, cascading to the ground.
Wildon expressed it all. “Hester, you are beautiful.”
Hester, smiling, returned the compliment. “And you, Lieutenant Boothe, are a most dashing officer.” She walked to him and kissed his cheek. “You are even more handsome now than in your cadet uniform.”
Wildon didn’t notice her words. He was still mesmerized by her beauty. He ruefully wondered if Captain Armbrewster would forbid his bringing Hester to functions as he had outlawed the fancy white mess jacket.
“Are you going to stand there gawking, sir, or take me to the ball?” Hester asked with a smile.
“Why, madam! To the ball—where I shall gawk some more.”
They stepped out of their quarters into the dark walkway in front of officers’ row. The light was dim at that time of evening. The only illumination in the area came from lamps shining through open windows. The young couple, in the best mood they’d been in for a long time, walked arm in arm to the regimental dance.
Captain and Mrs. Armbrewster emerged from their house as Wildon and Hester walked by. Armbrewster’s eyes did not waver from Hester’s form. Elisa Armbrewster was visibly taken aback by Hester’s appearance. She managed a cold smile, the venom dripping from her words. “Good evening. You both look charming.”
“Thank you,” Hester said. “You and the captain are a most handsome couple yourselves.”
“Oh, we are?” Armbrewster asked with a laugh. “Well! We did our best, didn’t we, Ellie?”
“Let’s go,” Elisa said. “We must get there before the majors or the colonel.”
The foursome arrived at the same time as other company grade officers. Hester received the same unfriendly glances from their wives while the men displayed silly grins. Their remarks did not improve the women’s moods.
“I say! Save a dance for me, Mrs. Boothe.”
“So that’s what they’re wearing back East now, hey? Most charming, Mrs. Boothe.”
“Now the decorations are complete, Mrs. Boothe.” Loving it all, Wildon took Hester into the room. She pointed to the table where they were to sit. “I put the place names out myself, Wildon.” She pointed to the red, white, and blue bunting over one wall. “And I told the soldiers how that was to go.”
“You did a wonderful job,” Wildon said. “That bunting is hung much better than the others.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Let’s sit down.”
Once the captains and lieutenants were situated, the regimental band—at least the part of it that was detailed to play for the dance—trooped in behind their bandmaster. They went to the raised platform put down for their benefit. Once they were ready, they poised with their instruments and waited for the man in charge to raise his baton.
The moment Colonel and Mrs. Blandenberg stepped into the room, the band struck up with the regimental song. Everyone stood up as the unit’s first couple, followed now by the three majors and their wives, went to their special table at the head of the room. When they reached their seats, the band ceased playing.
Colonel Blandenberg, a portly, mustachioed old officer, stepped forward. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I am pleased to welcome you to Fort MacNeil’s annual military ball. We wish you all a happy evening.” Those simple words officially opened the function. He turned to the bandmaster. “Sergeant Gallini; the Grand March, if you please.”
Once again the regiment’s official song blared out over the room. Everyone formed up, according to rank and seniority within grade, to tramp in time to the music around the room. After three circuits, the band came to a crashing finish. The people returned to their tables.
Hester, glad the opening ceremonies were over, smiled when the first tune, “The Blue Danube,” began to play. She looked over at Wildon.
He correctly responded. “Shall we waltz?”
“Yes, let’s.”
They swung around the floor with the other couples. Although the music was not up to par in Hester’s estimate, it was good enough to carry her into a light mood. She felt as if she were floating in Wildon’s arms as they dipped and circled.
Wildon, on the other hand, noticed the looks that the other wives were continuing to give Hester. Her attire did more than enhance her own attractiveness. It contrasted so sharply with theirs that the drab, sometimes mended, out-of-date dresses they wore were revealed in their true condition. Wildon realized that if it hadn’t been for Hester, it would have been just another regimental ball. But it was already ruined for many of the women. He vaguely wondered if he—and Hester—would pay a price for the unintentional rebuff.
After a couple of dances, Captain Armbrewster appeared at their table. “Hello, Mr. Boothe. Might I have permission to dance with your lady?”
“Only if I may dance with yours, sir,” Wildon replied.
“Of course. Mrs. Boothe?”
“My pleasure, Captain Armbrewster.”
They went out on the floor and waited a moment for the band to begin. When it did, Armbrewster took her in his arms and stepped out. He was remarkably light on his feet. Armbrewster smiled. “So how do you find Fort MacNeil, Mrs. Boothe?”
“Quite nice, thank you,” Hester said.
He nodded. “Your husband is a fine young officer.”
“Thank you.”
They completed the fox trot, then Hester was taken back to her table. A bow from the captain and he left. But Major Darnell took his place. Hester suppressed a smile as she thought of how Wildon would have to go dance with Sophie Darnell.
Once out on the dance floor, the major whirled her about. “How do you find Fort MacNeil, Mrs. Boothe?”
“Quite nice, thank you,” Hester said.
“Your husband is a fine young officer. He should go far in the army.”
After that dance she endured one with another major, then Colonel Blandenberg himself appeared at the table. It was another dance, same conversation, same replies, before she was delivered once again to the table. The next man to present himself was the regimental surgeon. Wildon introduced him. “Hester, this is Doctor Dempster.”
“How’d you do, ma’am,” he said a bit slurred. He winked at Wildon. “May I have the pleasure of dancing with your lady, old man?” He laughed. “Aren’t you glad I’m a bachelor and don’t have a worn hag to foist on you?”
Wildon grinned back. “Yes. Most definitely.” When Hester danced with the doctor, she found him a bit awkward. He was obviously drunk and his rhythm was off. He slightly pulled and pushed at her a few times, but at least didn’t step on her feet. When he brought her back to Wildon, he affected a little bow by dipping his head in one quick movement. “Most o’ the time that I dance, Mrs. Boothe, I do it out of social and milit’ry obligation. But with you, madam, I danced with pleasure. G’d evenin’.”
Hester watched him walk away. “In a way, he’s the most charming man I’ve danced with all evening.”
“Hey!” Wildon said. “What about me?”
“Let me think about that,
” Hester said with a mischievous smile.
Wildon started to protest, but everyone’s attention was attracted to the door when a sergeant appeared. He went directly to the colonel and spoke a few words to him. The colonel immediately got to his feet and followed the N.C.O. out of the building. “Who was that?” Hester asked.
“That’s Flanagan, a signal corps sergeant,” Wildon explained. “He’s in charge of the telegraph.” The band played two more dances. Hester was glad to be with Wildon again. Somehow the music and moving with him was relaxing. Her dark mood was lifted away, and for the first time since her arrival, she was actually glad to be where she was.
The colonel came back in and interrupted the following dance. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he said. “I have an important announcement.”
Everyone, knowing how easy it was for the staid tedium of army routine to be brought, suddenly to a crashing halt, gave the colonel his or her full attention.
“Orders have just been telegraphed to us,” Colonel Blandenberg said. “As you know, there has been very little activity in this vicinity by hostile Indians. We have been pretty much taking our ease. Therefore, a. telegram from department headquarters has arrived this evening ordering the regiment to be transferred to Fort Mojave in Arizona Territory. We are to begin the move as soon as practicable.”
Hester turned and looked up at Wildon. “Thank the Lord!” she exclaimed under her breath. “At last we shall leave this horrid place.”
“Yes. It appears so,” Wildon replied.
“Do you know what the new fort is like?” Hester asked.
“I’ve heard of it,” Wildon admitted. “Oh, the band is going to play again. Shall we continue the dance?”
“No! I don’t like your answer to my question, Wildon,” Hester said. “It was not complete. What is that place like?”
“I think,” Wildon said artfully, “that it is more rustic than this one.”
Hester, allowing herself to be led into a waltz, bit her lip.
The Long-Knives 5 Page 4
