Holding the Fort

by Regina Jennings

  “Our shores are teeming with families, people who know how to turn the soil and produce crops, streets crowded with farmers from Ireland, Germany, Russia, who were run off their land, whether by famine or war. They’re already here, living in crowded tenement apartments. In the meantime, all this land, millions of acres, is sitting fallow. All I’m asking is that the government do the same thing for them that they did for the Indians. Give them a chance at a homestead, too. Assign that land for settlement—white, Indian . . . shoot, I’ve even got freedmen wanting a chance at it. Opening up the Unassigned Lands would be good for the country.”

  “You’re not asking the government,” Major Adams said. “You’re trying to force their hand.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m a bona fide boomer.”

  Caroline lowered her spoon. “‘Carnival barker’ is more appropriate.”

  Frisco leaned toward Louisa. “Miss Caroline has trouble expressing her admiration for my skills. I go from town to town giving speeches, letting people know what fine land is available. Until he died, David Payne was our leader, but the movement lives on. We’re making an impact. More and more senators are seeing the sense of opening the Unassigned Lands for settlement.”

  The change that came over Caroline was remarkable. Gone was the indifferent air she adopted around her family. Absent was the simpering flirtation designed to attract the soldiers’ attention. She seemed to be honestly moved by what moved him. Genuinely thinking about someone other than herself.

  But just that fast, Frisco swung his attention to Louisa. “I know where I saw you. You were on the stage, weren’t you?”

  The room spun. The stage? Louisa hiccupped violently. She fisted her hand against her chest, trying to suppress the next one. This was it. Her final curtain call. But they’d have to drag her away. “I’ve been here”—she hiccupped again—“for some time.”

  “It was two weeks ago,” he said. “That’s when I saw you. C’mon. It had to be you.”

  Major Adams looked puzzled, which was better than him leaping to his feet and throwing her out. “Two weeks ago? That’d be about right, wouldn’t it?”

  Why wasn’t he shocked? Did he already suspect she was a performer? She couldn’t take the chance. Louisa prayed there would be no more painful hiccups and lowered her hand. “I don’t think you saw me on the stage,” she said.

  Frisco threw back his head and laughed. “You look so worried. Major Adams here is a tough man, but I don’t think he’ll throw you into the guardhouse for riding on a stagecoach.”

  “A stagecoach?” Louisa gasped. Her knees felt watery. Her head was spinning. All eyes were on her, and she wanted to be under the table. “The stagecoach,” she repeated.

  “What did you think I meant?” Frisco asked.

  Slowly she gathered her wits. “I don’t remember you,” she said. “How could you have been on the stage and me not know?”

  “I didn’t say I was on the stage. I said I saw you. At the Red Fork Ranch. Y’all were pulling in as I was loading up supplies for my settlers.”

  Louisa bit her lip. At the ranch. That was all. One simple misunderstanding, and she’d almost been exposed. What was she thinking? Wichita wasn’t that far away. Her deception could be uncovered just that easily.

  What was wrong with Miss Bell? Had something happened on the stagecoach? Had Frisco embarrassed her? Daniel didn’t think Frisco would have been inappropriate to the governess. He was her junior by several years and not likely to have his head turned by a missionary woman. On the other hand—

  Daniel took another look at the vision she made over the candelabra in the middle of the table. Her perfect white shoulder peeked out from her scarf again. With her beauty and her dazzling smile, she’d turn any man’s head no matter how she was dressed. But put her in a sky-blue gown . . .

  Frisco had continued painting his idealistic picture of a future territory here among the nations, and it seemed that Caroline and Daisy were only too eager to listen.

  “I didn’t invite you to dinner to have you proselytize my family,” Daniel said to Frisco. “I want to know what news you bring.”

  Frisco served himself some game fowl off the platter. “Besides the fact that hundreds of people in the surrounding states are insisting that the U.S. government loosen the stranglehold on this territory? Well, there’s talk at the end of the trail that the Cheyenne aren’t honoring their contract with the cattle drivers. They’re losing several head of cattle a day.”

  Daniel took a drink of his tea, the cool brew washing down the dust of the day. “What are the cowboys saying?”

  “Some of the bosses say they aren’t going to pay for passage anymore. They’ll cross the reservation without it. Instead of paying for protection that they’ll never see, they’ll hire their own armed men to accompany their herds.”

  Daniel stabbed at the fowl on his plate with his knife. “They can’t cross the reservation without paying the tribes. The chiefs don’t want trouble, but the question is whether they can rein in their braves who would love to see another war.”

  “That wouldn’t be good for anyone,” Frisco said.

  Which was why Daniel tolerated his lawbreaking guest. Frisco wasn’t a gunslinger. His war was against the government, and his weapon was popular opinion. The more settlers he could bring down to show the promise of the land, the more pressure would be applied to their representatives. He played guide for the curious. He brought them across the nations, dug some wells, surveyed homesteads, then when the troopers finally found them, he and his followers good-naturedly accompanied them back to the fort. Usually the followers would be escorted back to the States while Frisco awaited a court date and a trip to Arkansas for his appointment with the judge.

  “Come across any known men?” Daniel asked. The U.S. Marshals from Fort Smith had jurisdiction over Indian Territory, but the vast uninhabited areas of land meant that you could never have too many eyes watching over it.

  “Came across Marshal Bass Reeves hot on the trail of a bad character named Jim Webb, but we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him, so we weren’t any help. Naturally, we’re not looking for company on these treks. We avoid being seen as much as possible.”

  “But Marshal Reeves saw you and didn’t bring you in?” Daniel tried to act shocked. “Doesn’t he know you’re a wanted man?”

  Frisco’s eyes darted to Caroline, as if she might help him out of a pickle. “Reeves was going to bring us in, I reckon. It just seemed that . . . well, he said . . .”

  “I assume Jim Webb is a dangerous criminal,” Caroline said. She assumed the proud look she got whenever she’d managed to correct someone. “Since Frisco wasn’t going to harm anyone, it would’ve been foolhardy for the marshal to waste his time arresting Frisco when someone’s life could be in danger.”

  “Yes, I suppose only the cavalry has the time to chase harmless people around.” Daniel glared at his daughter. “And it’s Mr. Smith to you, young lady. Not Frisco.”

  “I don’t mind.” Frisco held up his glass of tea as if he were toasting Caroline with champagne. The nerve.

  “Well, I do mind.” Daniel shot his daughter a warning, as the boomer was beginning to look more and more dangerous all the time.

  Throughout the rest of the meal, Daisy and Caroline peppered their guest with questions. Daisy sought to bring Louisa into the conversation, but she remained uncharacteristically aloof. Her elbow rested on the table—which even Daniel knew was bad manners—and her hand was touching her face almost constantly. Covering her mouth, shading her eyes, pulling her hair across her cheek—almost like she was trying not to be seen.

  “I heard about the last resident of the guardhouse.” Frisco grinned as he wiped his mouth on his napkin and pushed his plate away. “Sergeant O’Hare told me that one of your own men got locked up not too long ago.”

  Daniel nodded. “Usually I’m not forced to detain my own men like that, but Private Willis has got to learn some discipline. We need every man. Until rei
nforcements arrive, we can barely hold the fort. This isn’t the time for a trooper to be imbibing illegal alcohol and shooting out the lanterns.”

  Louisa fumbled her goblet. Tea splashed on the table. She quickly righted her glass and covered the dark wet spot with her napkin. “He . . . he did that?” she asked.

  Daniel’s interest keened. Twice she’d crossed paths with Bradley Willis, and both times she’d managed to arrest his attention. How well did she know him? Whatever the case, it was best for her—and Caroline—to know what Willis was capable of.

  “He most certainly did. Just the fact that he was in possession of alcohol was bad enough, but he furthered his offense by becoming intoxicated, which led to dangerous behavior.”

  Frisco leaned forward, anxious to impart another tidbit. “And according to O’Hare, he did all that shooting while standing in the saddle.”

  Daniel would have preferred that part to have gone unmentioned. When he’d done the same thing, Louisa had aided him. Then again, it wasn’t the same thing. Not at all. Daniel hadn’t endangered anyone but himself, and while Louisa probably would have offered Private Willis the same compassion, that didn’t mean the young man deserved it.

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm,” she said.

  “What would you know about his intentions, ma’am?” Daniel replied. “The way he was shooting at every light, and from such a precarious position, he could’ve easily killed someone. Then I would’ve lost two troopers, and despite what you might think of me, I do not wish to have one of my men executed for recklessly taking another’s life.” Voicing this fear set his teeth on edge. “The important thing is that Private Willis earned his stay in the guardhouse.” The room had gone silent. No one at the table moved. “I’d rather deal with a hundred misguided boomers than one reckless trooper.”

  Too easily people from the civilian world thought that being in the cavalry was like a camping expedition. They forgot that it wasn’t just about braving the primitive conditions and the elements. The troopers were often in life-and-death situations. They had to trust each other. Their lives depended on their buddies. Stunts like Willis’s hurt morale and disrupted the discipline that they relied on.

  From the look on Miss Bell’s face, he’d upset her again, but he’d spoken the truth, and she needed to hear it, no matter how it made her eyes water.

  As much as he respected her ability with his girls, he was worried that the governess was in desperate need of some instruction, too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She was trapped. Louisa pulled her eyes from the major’s. There was nothing she could say to soften his opinion of her brother. Her defense of Bradley seemed only to hurt his case.

  Frisco Smith bravely plowed on to another subject, but Louisa couldn’t follow the conversation. It took all of her concentration to keep Major Adams’s words from settling in her heart. She had to contain her sorrow until she could be alone.

  Finally, after the last course had been served, she made her excuse. Although she tried not to depart abruptly, Major Adams’s unwavering gaze showed that he recognized her distress, but this time he was unwilling to apologize.

  And that hurt even more.

  Once upstairs, Louisa locked her bedroom door behind her. She might not be in the guardhouse, but she was the major’s prisoner just the same. Her utter lack of freedom was suffocating. She couldn’t wear her own clothes, couldn’t talk about her life, and she was expected to sit at a fancy dinner and hear her brother insulted without saying a word in his defense.

  And the worst part was that it was all true.

  How could Bradley be so stupid? Shooting out the fort’s lanterns while standing in the saddle? Louisa twisted a curl around her finger. It was a wonder he was still in the army after that stunt. As much as she wanted to pretend that Bradley was harmless, she understood the major’s concern.

  Bradley had made mistakes that could hurt people, but he was still her brother, and she still loved him. She always wanted the best for him—hoped that she’d done well by him—and to hear someone’s unsympathetic evaluation cut her to the quick, but she couldn’t deny the truth. Major Adams had been where Bradley was, but he had made something of himself. If there was a man she wanted her brother to emulate, it was her strong, honest, relentless employer.

  She tossed her hair back off her shoulders. All was not lost, but it would be if she didn’t maintain her composure. Someday, if everything went as planned, she wanted to live around respectable citizens like Major Adams. Hearing his opinion was painful but instructional. Could she and Bradley ever measure up? Not unless they worked very hard, and that was what she intended to do. Once Bradley straightened up, he could earn a place in Major Adams’s regard, but as for her—she could never tell him about her previous life. Women weren’t given the same forgiveness as men. While Louisa hadn’t come to Fort Reno with the intent to deceive anyone, continuing the deception had become necessary.

  Having nothing to do, nowhere to go—even a walk around the base was forbidden—Louisa pulled out the arithmetic book and studied for the rest of the night.

  At dusk, Frisco Smith was escorted back to his cell, and the family retired. After taps had been played, the only sound outdoors was the unrelenting wind that rattled the windowpane. But then the windowpane rattled a little too hard. Louisa lowered her book. Had a bird flown into the glass? There it was again. As quietly as she could, she rose, blew out her candle, and pushed aside the curtain.

  Bradley! He was crouched beneath the window, watching the green carefully. He looked up again and saw her, then pointed to the back of the house. Louisa hurried to unfasten the window and warn him of the danger, but he’d disappeared to meet her by the kitchen.

  Great Saturn’s rings! Didn’t he realize the danger of what he was suggesting? Forgetting her shoes and shawl, she eased down the stairs and to the kitchen. The door lock clicked when she turned it, but the door was well oiled, and she slipped out noiselessly. Looking both ways, she darted out onto the lawn, but there were no trees behind the house, probably to assure no one could sneak up on it—or away from it. The only place to hide out of sight of the house was a woodpile stacked between rain barrels. And that was where she found her brother.

  “Bradley!” She’d lecture him soon enough. Right now she wanted a hearty hug from the only blood kin she had in the world. He was so much bigger and stronger than she remembered.

  “What in tarnation are you doing here?” he whispered as he held her at arm’s length to get a better look. “You are out of your mind.”

  Her spine stiffened. “I’m the one out of my mind? What’s this about you getting drunk and riding through camp using the lanterns as targets?”

  He dropped her arms. “I didn’t miss a single shot, so I wasn’t that drunk, was I? Besides, I served my time. Everything is fine now. Or was, until you showed up. What are you doing in his house? Do you want to get us arrested?”

  “I’m a governess—”

  “Have mercy.” He slapped his forehead. “You? A governess? You’ve spent less time in school than a cat spends in water. And I can’t believe Major Adams would hire my sister—”

  “He doesn’t know. What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

  “The kind of idiot who lies to my commander. Major Adams will find out, you know. Nothing gets past him. And when he does—”

  “He’s not going to find out. Besides, even if he sends me away, he won’t know I’m your sister. It won’t hurt you any.”

  But Bradley’s jaw had set in stubborn lines. “Why are you here, anyway? To convince me to behave myself and walk the straight and narrow? That’s rich, considering you’re calling yourself a governess.”

  “I came here to get a job. Tim-Bob sent me packing.”

  Bradley shrugged. “Perform somewhere else.”

  “That’s why I came here. That and because my brother can’t stay out of the guardhouse.”

  “I’m out, aren’t I?”

&nbs
p; He wasn’t taking her seriously. “Bradley, without my job, I don’t have anything to fall back on,” she said. “And I can’t be a performer forever. It’s only a matter of time before I’m out in the street.” Or upstairs. But she couldn’t voice that fear. Not even to her brother. “That’s why I’m here. You need to be reminded that I can’t bail you out this time. You need this enlistment.”

  “Don’t you think I’m trying?” He held his hands out in supplication. “It’s hard work here. Always being bossed around. Always have to say ‘yes, sir,’ and ‘no, sir.’ I hadn’t tasted whiskey for months. Thought I’d just have one glass. Thought I’d just blow off a little steam. Next thing I knew, I was having the time of my life . . . and then I was in the guardhouse. It won’t happen again, but it’s not nearly as serious as what you’re doing. Really, Lola? What do you think the major will do when he finds out that a dance hall singer has been living under his roof, spending time with his girls?” His nose wrinkled as if disgusted by the very thought of her. But just as quickly, he softened. “Look, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not embarrassed by who you are, but I am embarrassed that you’re here. Can you imagine if the fellas found out that my big sister came here to make me behave? I’d never live that down. You have to leave. This was a bad idea.”

  It was. She could see that now. The best way to fix it was to leave before Major Adams learned of her and Bradley’s relationship, but she didn’t have anywhere to go. She needed this job. Without it, she was looking at a dead end.

  The first rock to hit the window had Daniel out of bed. The second one had him throwing a robe over his nightshirt and reaching for his saber. He’d seen the looks Frisco Smith and Caroline had exchanged during dinner. So help him, if the boomer thought to lure his innocent daughter outside for a tryst, Daniel would run him through without a twinge of regret. But the man beneath the window wasn’t Frisco. It was a trooper, and he didn’t have to take a second look before pinpointing exactly who.