Land of the Free

by Jeffry Hepple

  “Then we’ll abandon the boats to travel as a pack train.”

  “Mules and horses canno’ get through either.”

  “Then we’ll abandon them and walk.”

  “Wade is more like it.”

  “Wade then.”

  “The Neches River is a better route,” McGregor insisted.

  Yank turned to look at him for a moment. “For the purposes of this exploration, the United States is accepting the Sabine River as the western boundary of the Louisiana Purchase. That’s not negotiable.”

  “The Sabine or the Neches is all the same to the Spaniards who claims ‘em both,” McGregor insisted.

  “Thank you, Mr. McGregor.” Yank looked at the faces that were all watching him. “Some five or six hundred miles north of here the Sabine River meets the Red River. We will follow the Sabine to there, follow the Red River to the Rocky Mountains, then turn north to intercept the Lewis and Clark expedition.” He waited a moment for comments. “We are explorers headed into unexplored territory whose ownership is disputed. Our journey will be long, difficult and dangerous. Some, or all, of us may perish along the way. Anyone uncomfortable with that should reconsider joining.” He turned back toward McGregor. “Are you still with us, sir, or should I draw a line through your name?”

  McGregor shrugged. “With.”

  Yank made a note then turned the book. “You are our master at arms. Sign here.”

  McGregor signed his name carefully in practiced script then looked at Yank. “What, exactly, does a master at arms do?”

  “The master at arms maintains order.”

  “Does that make me second in command?”

  “No. Doña Marina Cortés is second in command. But for now, you are third in command and you will also double as our paymaster.” Yank pointed to a metal box. “Take thirty dollars advance pay for yourself and then give each man we hire twenty unless I tell you otherwise.” He beckoned to Marina. “Line up the men that you have selected here please, Miss Cortés. Then one by one tell me his name and his function.”

  “Just a minute. I’m not ready. I need a blacksmith,” she shouted. “Any seamen here? What about soldiers? Who’s the best shot?”

  “With a Kentucky rifle,” Yank added. “As for musketeers, all we care about is speed reloading. We’ll conduct a test of skill on the Navy Yard’s range before making our final decisions.”

  “Riflemen here, musketeers here,” Marina bellowed. “Twenty dollars in advance, eight dollars a month and plenty of adventure and danger. Who’s next?”

  “Miss Cortés?” Yank beckoned.

  “Yes,” she replied, as she approached his makeshift desk.

  “Make no commitments, please. I wish to have the final decision concerning those that we will take with us as well as how much money they will be paid.”

  “Yes, I heard. A marksmanship test for riflemen and a reloading test for musketeers.”

  “No. I mean that I will make the final decision on all personnel. Is that perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, but had I not forced the issue, you would have hired no one.”

  “Not true,” he replied. “But this is neither the time nor place to discuss that. You will either do things my way or collect your pay.”

  “You’ve demonstrated this morning that you can’t get along without me.”

  “One more word and we’ll both be finding that out.”

  She hesitated then turned away. “You men that have experience as teamsters, line up here to talk to the colonel. You other men that I’ve picked, right here. You don’t have a job until the colonel says so.”

  ~

  Yank knocked softly on the hotel room door. It was opened immediately by Marina who had a book in her hand. Except for the hat, she was dressed as she had been during the day. “Good evening, Colonel.” She gave him a hint of a smile.

  “I was going to supper and wondered if you would care to join me,” he said.

  She looked surprised for a moment and then stricken. “Oh dear. I have nothing to wear. The need for a gown had not occurred to me.”

  “I’m certain that we can find someplace where your attire will be acceptable.”

  “I still have the dress I was wearing the first day,” she said, lapsing unconsciously into French. “Perhaps that would do.” She stepped back from the door. “Come in and give me a moment to change.”

  He looked nervously up and down the hall.

  “If you’re concerned about my reputation, you needn’t be,” she giggled.

  He walked in and closed the door. “What are you reading?” He pointed to the book she was carrying.

  “It is a copy of Coronado’s journal.” She handed it to him, “There are details of his trek east which may be useful to us.”

  He thumbed through a few pages. “Yes. This could be very useful.”

  “You read Spanish?”

  “Yes. Although my spoken vocabulary is poor.”

  “I also have some journals of my ancestral grandmother. In them, she describes the journey from Coronado’s winter camp to Yellow Stone in detail. If we are forced to abandon the Sabine we can at least reach Lewis and Clark’s trail by following her directions.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Where did what come from?”

  “Your journals. You didn’t have them with you and we didn’t get your things from the saloon.”

  “You’re the suspicious type, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “I had Jack, the colored boy that works there, bring them to me.” Marina sat down on the bed and began to pull off her boots.

  “Perhaps I should wait outside,” Yank stammered.

  She looked surprised. “Why?”

  “While you change your clothes.” His face was very red.

  “Of course. If you wish. Or you could just turn your back.”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “No what?”

  “Stop doing that. We must talk.”

  “I’m just taking off my boot.”

  “And I’m asking you to stop.”

  “Very well.” With a puzzled expression, she leaned back on the bed.

  Yank took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I was thinking, but you cannot go with us.”

  “Why?”

  “A woman in a party of rough men…” He spread his hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  She shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”

  “How? By shooting every man who takes an interest in you?”

  “If they believe that I’m your woman there will be no problems.”

  “What?”

  “It isn’t that complicated. You need show no open affection or demonstrate our relationship beyond sharing a tent with me and perhaps…”

  “What?” This was said with a gasp and a new flush of color.

  She rolled her eyes. “Does sharing a tent shock your delicate sensibilities?”

  “Yes. It would be completely - indecent,” he stammered. “Immoral.”

  “Immoral to share a tent?”

  “Cohabitation without benefit of marriage is a sin.”

  She laughed. “Then marry me.”

  Unable to answer, he simply gawked.

  “So long as the marriage isn’t consummated it can be easily annulled when we return,” she said calmly.

  “But…”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Think before you argue.” She pointed to the straight backed chair at the small desk. “Sit down and think. This is an important decision that impacts the future of our country enormously.”

  “Our country?”

  “The United States of America. I’m an American too now. That’s something I’ve dreamed of for many years and I don’t take it lightly.”

  “Of course, but…”

  “No. Sit down and think. Please. This is not the time for an emotional decision.”

  He hesitated for a moment then obe
diently crossed the room to pull out the chair.

  “Let us examine this logically,” she suggested. “You need a multi-lingual interpreter and I am the best you will find anywhere.”

  “I agree. But the many negatives outweigh the single positive.”

  “What negatives? You have no wife, no fiancée and no family.” She stood up and planted her hands on her hips determinedly. “Would an annulled marriage of convenience discredit you with the army or damage your career?”

  “No, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It-it seems – immoral.”

  “You said that being unmarried and sharing a tent would be immoral. What’s immoral about being married and sharing a tent?”

  “The tent is no longer the issue,” he grumbled.

  “What is the issue then?”

  “The marriage.”

  “Marriage is immoral?”

  “Yes. I mean no. That is...” He took a breath. “Our marriage would be immoral.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “Marriage is a sacred, religious sacrament. One cannot…”

  “Hogwash,” she said, interrupting him. “Any magistrate, justice of the peace or ship’s captain can marry us in a civil ceremony without benefit of clergy.”

  “But there is a pledge and the implication of…”

  She raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t say love. That is a myth.”

  “Love is a myth?”

  “Can you deny that marriage among gentry, such as you are, is much more often a matter of political or financial advantage than a demonstration of mutual affection?”

  “No, I cannot deny that. But…”

  “Think of this in the same way.”

  “But…”

  “Except this: our marriage is not a life-long commitment. Unless we both die on the trail or we decide to consummate it, of course.” She gave him a moment. “Well?”

  “I don’t know,” he complained, rubbing his temples.

  “It would trouble me very little to be left behind,” Marina said gently. “I have my freedom and enough money to make a fresh start. You, on the other hand, will never find my equal as an interpreter.”

  He nodded. “I know that.”

  “The western expansion of the United States will make us the most powerful nation in the world. That expansion may well hinge on your mission. If you wish to complete your mission, you need me. If you love your country, marry me. It’s as simple as that.”

  He looked at her for a moment then dropped his eyes again.

  “What now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t say ‘nothing’ to dismiss me. Give me an argument. Tell me where I’m wrong.”

  “You are quite correct in all that you say.”

  “Well, what then?”

  He sighed. “Do we need a marriage license?”

  “I’ve never heard of such, so I would presume not.”

  He stood up then sat down, shaking his head.

  “Now what?”

  “I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “The marriage ceremony.”

  “The marriage ceremony?”

  “What do I do when they tell me that I can kiss the bride?”

  “You kiss me.” She laughed. “Who knows? You might even like it.”

  “That is exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  “We could practice if you wish.”

  He started to answer then laughed. “You are a startling woman.”

  “You’ll get used to me.”

  “I doubt it,” he shook his head. “You know I’ve been told that my mother tricked my father into marrying her.”

  “Do you think I have tricked you?”

  “No, not exactly. Well, that is…”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  He chuckled. “I’m tempted to decline.”

  “Not personal. Business.”

  “Business? Very well, business. What then?”

  “You turned down the first dozen men this morning without giving them any consideration. At first I thought you were just being too choosy, but by the end of the day I began to suspect that there was some method in your behavior that I had missed.”

  He considered her for a moment before answering. “That is a very astute observation.”

  “And that is a very clumsy attempt to avoid answering.”

  He smiled. “The first few men arrived before dawn. They were too anxious. Probably running from the law. Behind them were the desperately unemployed who would lie about their qualifications to gain the twenty dollars. The true adventurers had been watching and listening to us while deciding if we were worth joining. You may have noticed that when you called for riflemen and musketeers nearly all came from the very back of the lineup or from the docks where they had been lurking.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t notice it at the time, but now that you mention the fact, I cannot deny it. In the future I must be more careful in judging you.”

  “It would seem that we will have plenty of time to become acquainted in our shared tent.”

  “One would hope we might become acquainted before that.”

  He blushed a brilliant red.

  “I was thinking of getting better acquainted over dinner,” she giggled. “What on Earth are you thinking?”

  He gave her a helpless look.

  “Or had you changed your mind about dinner?”

  “No, no. Dinner. Yes.”

  “Because if you were thinking about taking me to bed, it might be better to wait until we are properly married. In view of your delicate sensibilities that is. But I’d be willing, if you were.”

  “No, no, that wasn’t what… That is…”

  “But, as I said earlier, if you wish to have the marriage annulled we will have to forgo that pleasure after we are married so tonight may be our only chance.”

  He opened his mouth then closed it without speaking.

  “We can discuss that at length over dinner. Did you want to watch me change my clothes?”

  “Yes, but I’ll wait in the hall.” He opened the door. “Might I ask a favor of you please?”

  She smiled. “I can’t think of anything that I wouldn’t gladly do for you.”

  He smiled back at her. “Good. Then pick one language and stick to it. This switching between French and English makes me dizzy.”

  She laughed. “I’ll try to stick with English but I think in French so when…” She shook her head. “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.

  August 21, 1804

  New Orleans, Louisiana Territory

  A pale moon rising above the river was casting a silvery glow over the ships. Yank was in his dress uniform and Marina was wearing a long white gown. She released Yank’s hand and looked over her shoulder at the tall masts of the USS Undaunted, where she and Yank had just been married by the ship’s captain. “That was very much nicer than I had anticipated.”

  “Yes. It was very thoughtful of Commander Thompson, his wife and Ensign Hogan to attend.”

  “I especially liked the kiss. How about you?”

  “I was too nervous to take note of it.”

  “Well, remembering the event now, is your recollection pleasant or unpleasant?”

  He looked at her and chuckled. “You are a minx.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Minx? In French, that is a disparaging term meant to insult a woman’s sense of propriety or her lack of decorum. Does it mean the same in English?”

  He thought a moment. “In English it means – it means – something else.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure, but certainly not disparaging.”

  “What did you mean by it?”

  “I only meant that you were – I can’t explain. But there was no insult intended.”

  “Well, did you mean that you liked kissing me or disliked kissing me?”

>   “Does it really matter?”

  “Yes, of course it matters.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, so that I know if I will be sleeping alone tonight, for one thing.”

  “What would you prefer?” he chuckled.

  “I already told you that I liked the kiss.”

  “I should think you would be indifferent to men’s kisses by now.”

  She looked up at him. “That was the first kiss I ever returned.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh come now, please, Miss Cortés.”

  “It is perfectly true,” she said heatedly. “I have never kissed a man in my entire life. And my name is Mrs. Van Buskirk, if you insist upon addressing me formally.”

  He started to reply but then thought about her words. “Yes, you are Mrs. Van Buskirk, indeed. Imagine that.”

  “In spite of my low birth and my past, I swear to you that I shall do everything in my power to avoid besmirching the name.”

  He stopped and caught her hand. “Let me make something clear. Although you baffle me in many ways, I have a very high opinion of you. Nothing in your past has been your fault. You have been wronged and have come through it remarkably. If for some reason we were to decide not to have our marriage annulled after the expedition, my family would be proud to have you as a member.”

  “Ah, then you must have liked the kiss as much as I.”

  He chuckled, let go of her hand and took her arm to continue along the river. “You are the most exasperating woman I have ever met.”

  “Good. Are you quite rich?”

  “No. But my family has money.” He started to turn onto a dark street but was held back by Marina. “What?”

  “The lamplighter has already made his rounds but the streetlamps are off here.”

  “Evidently he forgot this street.” Yank stared forward again.

  She pulled him back and shook her head. “Someone has turned the gas off. Robbers, in all likelihood.”

  “Robbers?” He looked at her then up the darkened street. “Robbers laying a trap in the heart of the city? I have never heard of such.”

  “This is not New York.”

  “Indeed not. Wait here.” He started off a third time and then turned to her in annoyance when she once again caught his arm. “Unhand me, Madam.”