by Ann Shorey
“You’re soldiers. You never know when you may be called upon to lead in battle. My job is to relay tactics I learned at the Academy.”
The men watched him, expressions cold. From the back of the room, he heard a loud whisper. “Tactics must be how he got Lieutenant Campion discharged.”
Ward drew himself up to his full height. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t hear you. Would you mind repeating your remark?”
The man stood, hooded eyes defiant. “It ain’t worth repeating, sir. A mere observation.”
“Observation means something you’ve seen.” Ward walked around his desk and glared at the soldier. “Tell us what you’ve seen regarding the lieutenant’s untimely departure from the post.” He fought to keep anger from his voice.
The sergeant’s eyes shifted away from Ward’s face. “I never saw nothing, sir.”
“How about the rest of you? Anything to contribute to the discussion?”
The wall clock ticked in the silence.
“I’m only going to say this once.” Ward planted his feet apart and stood with hands clasped behind his back. His voice boomed over the men. “Lieutenant Campion got himself discharged for breaking several Army regulations. I’m sorry it happened. From this day on, I don’t want to hear another word about him, either in my classroom or on the field. Is that understood?”
Heads bobbed.
He cupped a hand behind his ear. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good. Class dismissed. Be back here tomorrow ready to work.”
After the men left, Ward tucked his copy of Out-Post under his arm and left the room. Angry with himself for losing his temper, he stalked toward the stairway leading to the second floor. His image of a perfect officer was one who remained calm in all circumstances. He shook his head. You’ve got a ways to go, Calder.
When he passed the mail slots in the hallway, he noticed an envelope in his box. His mood lifted. Another letter from Luellen so soon would be a bright spot in a brutal day.
He plucked the message from the slot and stared at the envelope, disappointed. Standing in front of the boxes, he read a summons to Block’s office for late that afternoon. He shook his head. It wasn’t possible that news of his classroom outburst had reached headquarters already. What did the captain want?
The door to the headquarters building opened and a dark-haired woman emerged, carrying an infant. Sunlight glinted off the gold frames of her glasses.
Ward held his breath. Could Luellen have come all this way to seek him out? He stood bolted in place, unprepared for the surge of joy that filled him. That’s why Block had summoned him—to tell him he had a visitor.
The woman hurried in his direction on the stone pathway. Ward swept his hat from his head and felt a grin spread across his face. “Lu—”
When she was twenty feet away, he realized she was a stranger, probably the wife of one of the other officers. She looked at him curiously as she passed.
“Ma’am.” He clapped his hat on, hoping his embarrassment wasn’t obvious. Head down, he walked to the headquarters entrance, berating himself all the way. What was the matter with him? He couldn’t allow himself to become attached to Luellen McGarvie. Her plans didn’t include marriage and neither did his.
Once inside the stale-smelling building, Ward turned down the corridor leading to the commander’s office. He drew himself to full attention when he entered.
Captain Block swiveled around in his chair. “At ease, Lieutenant. Have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ward sat, resting his hat on his lap.
“You’ve had a rough few months since you returned. How’s the shoulder?”
“Better, thank you.”
“And your dealings with the men on the post? I understand there’s been some resistance to your presence here.”
Sweat prickled his forehead. “I’m working to overcome that, sir.”
The captain nodded, shuffling through a stack of papers on the corner of his desk. Finding the one he wanted, he laid the sheet in front of him. “Feel like you could handle yourself on a plains assignment?”
“Another survey? I look forward to the opportunity.”
“Not a survey this time.” He turned the paper around and Ward saw it was a map. Captain Block put his thick index finger on a point near the center of the page, and traced a line from left to right. “You’re looking at the Smoky Hill Trail in Kansas Territory. Six years ago the Army established Fort Hook here.” He indicated a circle drawn on the map.
Ward waited. The captain disliked being rushed.
“Your orders arrived this morning.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Orders, sir?”
“You’re being transferred to Fort Hook—as post commander.”
Ward’s mouth dropped open. “I’m only a lieutenant.”
“Not any longer. I recommended you for a captaincy.” Captain Block lifted an envelope from his desk. “Here’s the approval.”
Stunned, Ward leaned back in his chair.
The captain’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re an outstanding soldier, Calder. Dedicated. Reliable. This post will suit you.”
“Sir, after everything that’s happened, how could you possibly—”
“You know how slow the Army can be. I sent my recommendation right after the first of the year. What occurred this spring has no bearing on these orders.” He leaned back in his chair, hands braced against the edge of the desktop. “You’re not turning them down, are you?”
“No, sir. Thank you, sir.” He straightened his shoulders. “When am I to leave?”
“You’re to report on New Year’s Day, so you’ve got three months to prepare.”
Swamped by conflicting thoughts, Ward left the commander’s office and walked toward the officers’ quarters. He wished his father had lived to see this moment. His ambitions for Ward were embodied in the designation of post commander.
Ward could picture his father’s excitement upon hearing the news—sightless eyes filled with tears, face wreathed in a broad smile. He could almost feel the strong arms pounding his back.
“You’re the reason I’ve worked so hard,” he said to the memory. “This is for you.”
A passing soldier saluted, looking puzzled, and Ward realized he’d spoken aloud. He returned the salute, slowing his steps as the impact of the promotion washed over him. Kansas Territory. Instead of one long day’s train ride, he’d be nearly a week away from Beldon Grove. No railroads. Barely a trail in places. Mail service unreliable.
How would he tell Luellen? Would she care?
Luellen woke at the first suggestion of daybreak on Monday. She tiptoed to the kitchen and fed wood into the cookstove, then broke eggs into a large bowl. A pan of ham custard should satisfy the boarders’ breakfast needs for this one morning. Mrs. Hawks hadn’t been pleased at the idea of Luellen departing early, so she wanted to leave nothing undone prior to taking David to Leah.
She gave a mental shiver at the idea of facing an unhappy Leah on the heels of leaving an equally unhappy Mrs. Hawks. After this morning’s examination, the days should smooth out.
Once Luellen had assembled the minced ham, torn bread, and eggs, she slid the combined breakfast in the oven to bake. The clock on the wall ticked toward six.
She hurried into her bedroom. David lay on his back in the crib, arms flung outward, eyes closed. Luellen stroked his hair off his forehead. He stirred, smiling and lifting his arms when he saw her.
Luellen swung him from the crib, nuzzling his soft cheeks. After changing his diaper and slipping a fresh gown over his head, she sat to nurse him.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Hawks stopped by the open door. “Are you minding the clock? Don’t you have to be at the school by seven?”
“What time is it?” She held David at her shoulder, patting his back.
“Going on six thirty.”
“Oh, mercy.” Luellen scrambled to her feet, grabbing her portfolio and David�
��s blanket on her way out.
The sun hovered below the horizon, its glow forming a crescent in the early morning haze. She sprinted across the street and pounded up the back steps of Mrs. Garmon’s house. The fragrance of baked apples drifted toward her when Leah responded to her knock. She thrust David into the other woman’s waiting arms, thanked her, and dashed down the steps.
“When will you be back?” Leah called.
Luellen paused. “Dinnertime. I’ll have almost an hour—that is if I pass this examination. Otherwise—” She shook her head. “Much sooner than that.”
Leah’s impassive expression didn’t change. “Good luck.” The words sounded perfunctory.
“Thank you.” She matched Leah’s tone.
She entered the administration building as the chapel bell tolled seven. Mrs. Hale had her hand on the latch preparatory to closing the door of the testing room when Luellen slipped inside. Several students sat at the tables, men on the right, women on the left. She didn’t recognize anyone she knew. So she wasn’t the only person asking for favors.
She took a seat and waited while the proctor sorted through papers on her desk, evidently seeking the appropriate examination for each student. She dropped a page covered with letters and symbols in front of Luellen. “You have an hour to complete these equations. Use the extra sheet to show your work.” She walked among the other tables, leaving pages along with instructions.
Luellen filled her lungs, exhaled slowly, and lifted her pencil. Weeks of study. An hour to get everything on paper. She shoved her fingers into the hair at her temples and focused on the first set.
Pencils scratched and chairs creaked as students bent over their work. Mrs. Hale padded up and down the aisle, ready to pounce on anyone caught cheating.
The end of the hour came all too soon. The proctor swept through the room gathering examinations. With reluctance, Luellen surrendered her papers. She needed more time to review her answers.
“Wait here, please, while I grade your work,” Mrs. Hale said to the group at large. “I have schedules for each of you if you pass.”
Luellen leaned back in her chair and picked at a snag on one fingernail. The muscles in her shoulders twitched. She’d gambled by returning to Allenwood with no assurance that she’d be admitted for the final term.
What if she lost?
Luellen climbed the back steps of Mrs. Garmon’s house and knocked.
No response.
She knocked again, louder this time.
After a long moment the door opened and a querulous voice asked, “Who are you?”
Luellen’s gaze dropped to a tiny woman leaning on a cane. Her white hair was arranged in an elaborate coiffure and glittering rings encrusted the bent fingers. Her mouth turned down at the corners.
“I’m Luellen McGarvie. Leah Holcomb is caring for my son.” Her voice faltered. “Where is she?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be answering the door now, would I?”
Luellen’s heart lurched. “She’s not here?”
“Of course she’s not here. Are you deaf? I just said I didn’t know where she was.”
She sagged against the porch railing. “But I thought she worked here. Are you Mrs. Garmon?”
“She does and I am. But she’s free to come and go when I have no tasks for her—as long as my meals are served on time.” The woman squinted up at Luellen, her face a map of wrinkles. “I expect she’ll be along.”
“She’s got my son. I can’t just sit.”
“Up to you. You can run all over town, or you can wait here ’til she comes back. Makes no difference to me.” She turned from the doorway and waved her free hand in the direction of the kitchen table. “Have a chair. I’m going back to my reading, and I won’t welcome another interruption.”
Dry-mouthed, Luellen shook her head. “I’d rather stay outside and watch the street.”
“As you please.” Mrs. Garmon headed for the connecting door, her black taffeta skirt brushing the floor behind her.
After she disappeared, Luellen reconsidered and stepped inside. Maybe Leah decided to nap while the children slept and didn’t hear her knock.
She tiptoed to the doorway of the back room. No Leah. The crib stood empty. How far could the woman go carrying two babies? And why would she leave? Luellen retreated to the porch and tried to rein in her racing thoughts. First she’d check the boardwalk along College Avenue. Perhaps Leah had a friend nearby and had gone for a visit.
Dry leaves shattered beneath her boots as she retraced her steps to the street. Near the campus she saw a group of people walking in the direction of the chapel. At the other end of the block, a man wearing a straw hat raked leaves into a pile. A current of autumn flowed beneath the sun’s warmth, chilling her. Where’s my son?
She heard creaking behind the house and spun around. Leah came into view, pulling a long-handled wagon.
Luellen flew toward the alley, the pounding of her heart choking her. “David?”
“He’s right here.” Leah stopped the wagon next to the carriage house and pointed at the two babies, pillowed together inside the rough wooden conveyance.
“Praise God.” Luellen’s skirts billowed as she knelt next to her son. A bonneted Frannie nestled next to him. She touched David’s cheek with a fingertip and was rewarded with a smile.
She faced Leah. “I was frightened out of my wits when I found you gone. You should have told me—”
“You’re early. As you can see, I’m here in plenty of time to prepare Mrs. Garmon’s dinner.” Leah gestured toward the sky. “It’s good for babies to be in the sunshine. I took them for a walk.”
“In an alley?”
“D’you think I’d dare parade down College Avenue? What if someone decided to report me as a runaway slave?” She lifted Frannie and held her with one arm. “Soon’s I save the money, we’re going to Canada. Meantime, I get fresh air only when it’s safe to be out.”
The mystery of Leah spun through Luellen’s brain. If she was afraid to be seen on the street, how did she expect to travel to Canada?
She pushed herself to her feet. “How will you get there?”
Leah studied her for a moment, distrust in her eyes. “You don’t need to know.” She strode toward the house, talking over her shoulder as she went. “Bring the boy with you and come in. I need to cook dinner.”
Luellen scooped David from the wagon and trotted after her. What would she have to do to get into Leah’s good graces? The woman took offense at everything she said. She sighed, feeling David’s hungry mouth pressing on her skin. “You’re ready for dinner, aren’t you?” she whispered.
When she entered the kitchen, Leah had propped Frannie in a tall armchair. “You want to sit a spell and feed the boy, go ahead.” She opened the oven and removed a covered roasting pan.
“His name’s David.”
“What?”
“You keep calling him ‘the boy.’ His name’s David.”
Leah raised an eyebrow. “You came back early because you failed that test, didn’t you? That why you’re so snippy?” A cloud of fragrant steam billowed out when she raised the lid of the roaster.
Luellen bit back a caustic retort. If they continued bickering, they’d never be friends. “I’m sorry. I spoke more sharply than I intended.” She drew a chair away from the table. “I appreciate your offer.”
“Well. Make yourself comfortable then.” She speared a browned chunk of meat onto a platter and bestowed a half-smile on Luellen. “After I serve Mrs. Garmon, would you like a slice of this beef?”
“Yes, please.”
Leah folded her arms across her middle. “Now tell me about the test. What happened?”
“I passed—barely. My score was seventy-nine percent.” Humbled, she shifted her gaze to the floor.
“That’s good enough to be enrolled, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the hangdog face?”
Luellen tightened her jaw. “I studied ha
rd. I wanted to prove to Dr. Alexander—”
“You know him?” Leah caught her lower lip between her teeth.
“He’s the registrar. He’s the one who says whether I stay or go.”
Leah’s eyes narrowed. “He’s good at telling folks to go. Him and—” She turned her back and slashed a knife into the roast. “You mind yourself over there. Things isn’t always what they seem.”
27
On her way to the campus, Luellen pondered Leah’s words. Who else did she refer to in her warning? She filed the question away in her mind for later.
Ahead, clusters of students streamed toward classrooms. By squinting, she could discern Alma Guthrie on the steps of the Model School and hurried toward her.
“Welcome back.” Alma’s eyes shone. “As soon as class is over, I want to hear all about your baby. Mother says he’s a wonder.”
“He’s a joy, no doubt about it.” Luellen followed the instructor into the classroom, noticing new faces filling some of the desks.
To her surprise, Belle stood next to the blackboard. She waggled her fingers in greeting.
“Did I mistake my assignment?” Luellen whispered. She dug in her reticule for the schedule she’d been handed when she left the examination room.
Alma laid a hand on her arm. “Not at all. We’re doubling up our second-year student teachers to allow each of you plenty of practice time. You’ll alternate sessions. Miss Brownlee will teach arithmetic to the older children while you start the first-year pupils on reading. They’re waiting for you there on the right.” She rubbed her hands together. “It’s going to be a busy term. All the Model School classes are full.”
Luellen glanced around the room, seeking familiar faces of pupils she’d taught last year. Elizabeth and Cassie shared a desk in the third row. From his seat farther back, Jackie faced her with a challenging expression. But someone was missing.
“Where’s Joshua?”
“His father lost his job, so he moved the family to Chicago. I heard he’s working for one of the railroad lines.”
