Winter's Camp

by Jodi Thomas

  A block from the ranger station he stopped in a café and they drank coffee and talked. He tried to prepare her for what was going to happen, but he wasn’t sure he knew. She spoke slowly, answering questions he’d never asked. She must have felt change coming, also. Two hours later he knew her story. Looking at her now, her warm brown hair curling around her face and her big blue eyes holding his attention, he marveled that such a delicate creature could have survived.

  Finally, armed with her name and the few facts she remembered, James walked into the ranger station in Fort Worth.

  * * *

  “I’VE FOUND A captive woman,” he said simply to the first ranger he saw, a broad-shouldered fellow of not more than twenty. The circle star on his shirt marked him as a ranger, but James guessed he was yet to see any battles.

  The young ranger at the desk nodded as if he’d heard the story before. “Is she alive or did you find a body? Does she know her name or where she was kidnapped from? Where’d you find her?”

  James felt as if he’d fired off a few rounds in the small office. It had been so long since anyone had talked to him using so many words, he had to fight to keep from backing up.

  He stepped outside and lifted Millie down from her horse. She didn’t want to go, but he held on tight to her hand as he walked back into the station.

  The young man with a badge stood as she entered the ranger office.

  “Go slow, mister, or you’ll frighten her,” James ordered. “She’s been through enough. We’re not going to make this any harder on her than we have to.”

  The ranger nodded and offered her a chair. “My name’s Drew, miss. Ranger Drew Price. I’m here to do the best I can to help you. If you’ve got family, we’ll see you get home safe.”

  James stood at her side, guessing she wouldn’t say a word to this stranger. “Her name is Millie O’Grady. She was kidnapped from a farm near Jefferson, Texas. She thinks she’s eighteen or nineteen. She was twelve when kidnapped. She says her mother is dead but her father may be alive. She said she did not see his body. A little brother—she called him Andy—was also kidnapped. They were separated after the first night. She doesn’t know if he’s alive or dead but she remembered his hair was red like her father’s.”

  The ranger glared at James. “Can the lady talk for herself?”

  James grinned when Millie shook her head.

  The young lawman knelt in front of her. “Are you injured, miss? Do I need to call a doctor?”

  She looked up at James and he knew she’d lost a few of Ranger Price’s words.

  He smiled down at her. “She had many cuts and bruises when I found her. But she’s fine now. I don’t think there is need for a doctor.”

  While Ranger Price wrote up the report, James studied Millie. She was afraid but not terrified. He’d promised her no one would hurt her in Fort Worth.

  When the ranger left to send a few telegraph messages to places that kept up with missing people, James pulled a chair near Millie’s and talked to her in a low, calm voice. Slowly, she relaxed.

  Another ranger came in; older and battle-scarred from the war, James guessed. The minute he met the ranger’s eyes, James knew the man recognized him. The ranger straightened as if coming to attention. “Wilson, sir,” he said. “How can I be of service, Captain Kirkland?”

  James repeated all the facts he’d just given the young ranger. Neither he nor Wilson mentioned the war. They may have fought together once, but those days were long buried.

  Wilson offered them coffee and was very polite when he spoke to Millie. He seemed to understand what she’d been through.

  “We get several parents dropping in every year, hoping for news of their children. The odds aren’t good, but now and then we get lucky and find one.”

  When Millie looked away as if not listening, the ranger continued to speak quietly to James. “Women have it the worst, I figure, Captain Kirkland. The tribes seem to like children, even adopt them as their own. The men are usually killed, not kept as captives, but the women, they go through hell. This one must have been too old to be adopted into the tribe and too young to be taken as a wife.”

  James didn’t want to talk about what she’d been through. He’d already guessed that covering herself in mud may have saved her life.

  A few hours passed and James insisted on walking Millie down the street to a café for dinner. He invited the ranger to join them, but Wilson said he was on duty.

  “You will be coming back, Captain?” Wilson asked when they reached the office door.

  “We will. If there is news, you can find us at the first café.” James relaxed his shoulders. “And, it’s just James Kirkland now. I’m no longer a captain.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wilson nodded once. “Mr. Kirkland. If no news comes tonight, we’ve got a sweet widow a few blocks over who’ll take Miss O’Grady in for a few nights. Her man was a ranger.”

  James wanted to insist that he’d take care of Millie, but she wasn’t his. She never had been. He’d meant to save her, to get her to safety, to turn her over to her family. She wasn’t his.

  They took their time eating at the café. She did what she always did; she watched how he acted and mimicked his every move. But this time Millie merely picked at her food, obviously troubled.

  He could think of nothing to say. He had no idea how to comfort her. Part of him wanted to simply hold her as he had all winter, but he couldn’t do that now. People were all around.

  So, he just looked at her. The bruises were gone and her cheeks were no longer hollow. Her chestnut-colored hair curled softly around her face. Even in her blanket of a dress and his old trousers, she was beautiful. All the months together, he’d never really noticed.

  He’d caught people staring all morning and thought it was because of the clothes or her unfashionably short hair. Suddenly, he realized, they were admiring her. Somehow this beautiful creature had survived, wrapped in a filthy blanket with mud covering her body.

  After they’d finished their meal, he ordered dessert. First one, then two, then every one on the menu board. Millie loved them all. She took tiny bites of each, closed her eyes and drank in the sweetness like fine wine.

  Smiling, he thought of all the good things she was about to experience and realized he wanted to be the one to show her, to teach her.

  About dusk, the young ranger they’d first met rushed into the café, his fist full of papers. “I have news, finally,” Ranger Price said, taking the chair opposite James. “It took me longer than I thought it would. I had to telegraph Austin twice and Dallas several times to make sure my facts were right.”

  James leaned forward. Millie moved her chair closer to him.

  The ranger smiled up at Millie, but she looked away. He addressed his news to her, anyway. “We’ve found a record of your father’s death, miss. You have my condolences. Your father passed away three years ago in Jefferson. After you were taken, he stayed on the farm, hoping somehow you’d find your way back.”

  Both men watched her, but no emotion showed. If she understood, she didn’t seem to care.

  James cupped her face and turned her head toward him. “Millie, your father is no longer alive. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t try to speak, but one tear bubbled over and trickled down her cheek.

  He brushed it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Little Dove.”

  Price shuffled his papers. “That’s not all. I have some good news and some bad, I’m afraid. A boy, who might be her brother, was located. He’s about the right age—thirteen. He has red hair. He was caught stealing horses a few months ago down near Austin. The sheriff tried to hold the boy, but he escaped. He was recaptured two weeks ago and, according to the sergeant who telegraphed me back, he’s been raising hell down near Fort Richardson ever since. Claims he’s Apache. Won’t speak a w
ord of English.”

  James raised an eyebrow. “Is that the good news or the bad?”

  “The bad news is he shot a guard. Almost killed him. They’re hanging the kid as an adult at dawn four days from today.”

  A tiny cry came from Millie. She leaned closer to James and pressed her face into the hollow between his shoulder and throat. “No,” she whispered. “No.”

  James looked at the ranger. “Can I get there in time? If I don’t bring him back, we’ll never know if it was her brother or not.”

  “It would be a hard ride, but you could make it.”

  “Telegraph the fort and tell them to hold off the hanging until I get there. Tell them family is riding in to see the boy.”

  Price looked at James. “You family, Captain?”

  James wasn’t surprised Wilson had passed on a few war stories about him to the younger ranger.

  “Joe told me who you were,” the young ranger admitted. “Said you were the bravest man who ever fought for the South. They say most bluecoats thought you were the devil come to fight.”

  “I’m just a rancher now, Drew. The war has been over for a long time.” James thought about how it seemed more like a lifetime than seven years. “I think this boy might be the only one who can heal Miss O’Grady. The kid’s all the family she’s got left. It’s worth a try to bring him here.”

  “You want me or Wilson to go along?”

  “I doubt I’ll need help with a kid, but I’d appreciate it if one of you would check in on this lady. Talk to her, tell her what’s happening. She might not talk back, but she’ll understand. I’ll wire when I can.”

  Price looked at James. “I’ll do what I can to delay the hanging, Captain. If there’s a ranger at the fort, I’ll send orders to burn the gallows if he has to.” He turned to Millie. “I’d be happy to visit her every day. Widow Harris feeds every ranger that drops by.”

  James stood and shook hands with Drew as he added, “Show me the widow’s house.” He swung Millie up into his arms. “This little lady has had about all she can take tonight. I’ll see her safe and then I’ll ride.”

  The ranger followed James out. “Before you leave, stop by the office. Wilson said you should be sworn in before you go after the kid. We’ll give you a list of places that will trade out horses with rangers. If it doesn’t rain, you’ll make it.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  MILLIE TRIED TO understand what was going on. James had left his other horses at the ranger station, and they rode away from the main street through dark roads hemmed in by cold, windowless buildings. The brick walls formed a canyon without beauty. James held her tightly in front of him as the ranger trailed behind. He talked but she did not listen. All that he’d told her in the café whirled around in her mind. Her father was dead. Her little brother might be alive, but it meant James was leaving her. Sorrow, joy and fear were at war in her mind.

  “I swear I’ll be back,” James whispered against her ear. “I’ll leave you somewhere safe, I promise. If this boy at Fort Richardson is your brother, I’ll bring him back.”

  Pressing her cheek against his chest, she fought tears. He had never lied to her.

  His hand brushed over her shoulder. “You’ll have family again, Millie. You’ll have Andy back.”

  She nodded slightly. That world she had been ripped from long ago seemed more a dream than real. Her life was with James now, even if he did not see it or speak of any future.

  All too soon they reached the edge of town where a cottage sat in a forest of fruit trees. A round little woman with sunshine in her smile greeted them. Millie liked her right away. The kind woman spoke slowly and waited for Millie to answer or nod before she moved on.

  Millie understood she had to stay at this place, but when James stood to leave, she could not seem to turn loose of his hand. “Take me, James. Take me with you.”

  Mrs. Harris was a kind old woman, but Millie wanted to go with him. She had to stay with him. Nowhere else in the world was safe.

  He knelt beside her chair in a house filled with so many things she could not look at them all. “Millie, listen to me. I’m coming back.”

  She shook her head. In her experience people never came back.

  “I want you to rest here. Do what Mrs. Harris tells you. The rangers will check on you. If I can, I’ll let them know what I find at the fort.” Slowly, he pulled his hand from hers. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back with Andrew.”

  Turning his back to Millie, James handed Mrs. Harris a pouch. “Take what you need from this for her keep. Buy her clothes and anything else she needs.”

  Millie closed her eyes. James was not trading her away. He was paying someone to take care of her. He’d told her many times at the camp that all he wanted was to start a ranch. His dreams were in the money pouch, he’d said. Now he was giving part of what he had saved away to pay for her care.

  “Millie, listen to me.” He surprised her when she opened her eyes and found him close. “I’ll be back in a few days and when I do I expect you to have learned to make an apple pie as good as the one we just ate. Mrs. Harris will teach you.”

  She tried not to listen, but he was too close to ignore.

  James smiled at her. “If you could make a pie like that, you’d be just about perfect, Millie.”

  She remembered all the nights he had wished for a dessert. She had not remembered desserts, but James would rhyme off all the things he loved. Apple pie was always the first on his list.

  Moving closer, Mrs. Harris smiled at Millie but spoke to James. “I’ll be happy to teach her, Mr. Kirkland. She can sleep and eat all she wants, but if she wants me to teach her to cook, I’d be tickled.”

  Millie followed him to the door as he said goodbye to the others. On the porch, he pulled her against him and kissed her. “I’m coming back for you, Millie. I swear. No matter how long it takes, a few days or a month, I’m coming back.”

  Nodding, she straightened. This man had never lied to her. She would believe him now.

  He smiled down at her and said, “Stay here. Learn what you can.” For once the words seem to come hard for him. “You hold my heart, Millie O’Grady.”

  Then, as if he had said too much, he was gone.

  * * *

  MILLIE STOOD STARING into the night, wishing she could see one more glimpse of him, but the brick-and-wood canyon of the town gobbled him up. She fought to keep from trembling. He had said she would be safe. He had to go find Andrew. She had no choice but to stay and wait.

  The porch door creaked and Mrs. Harris stepped outside. “This is a place of peace, child. You’ll like it here.”

  Millie turned to the little, round woman. “Thank you.” For the first time since the day she’d seen her mother die, she trusted someone quickly. James would be back. Until then, she had Mrs. Harris.

  “I want to learn everything.” Millie straightened her back.

  “Then we’ll have long days,” Mrs. Harris said. “And some fun talking.”

  Millie kept to her promise. She learned all she could each day, but during the nights, she cried for her canyon man.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DAWN FEATHERED ALONG the eastern sky as James rode into Fort Richardson. The sight of so many men in blue uniforms bothered him. Memories and nightmares danced in his thoughts, but he pushed them aside as soon as the gallows came into view. Three nooses hung empty, waiting above the ten-foot-high stage. James couldn’t change the past, but if he was lucky, he might be able to change one boy’s future.

  Walking up to the guard on duty, James announced, “I’m here to see Sergeant Gunther.” James straightened, trying to not look as tired as he felt. “I’m...” He hesitated, almost saying Captain Kirkland for the first time in years. “I’m James Kirkland from Fort Worth.”

 
“Yes, sir.” The private stared at the badge James wore. The circle star marked James as a ranger. “This way, Ranger Kirkland. We’ve been expecting you.”

  James thought they’d take him right to the stockade, but the private marched him into post headquarters.

  “The sergeant is at breakfast but will be in as soon as he’s finished with muster. Our captain and the lieutenant are in Austin, so Gunther is in charge.” The private nodded toward two chairs in front of a massive desk. “Please, Ranger Kirkland, make yourself comfortable.”

  The room was still cast in morning shadows, but a freshly lit fire warmed the frosty air. James was asleep in one of the chairs almost before the door closed.

  He dreamed of cold nights at his winter camp. Millie was curled in at his side, sleeping so soundly she did not wake when he ran his fingers into her soft curls and kissed her forehead.

  James woke when footsteps sounded just outside the door. He had no idea if it had been five minutes or five hours. A moment before the door popped open, James noticed full daylight filled the window.

  A sergeant whom he assumed was Gunther—wide as the door—stormed into his office, followed by two men dragging five feet of chained trouble between them. The prisoner was dressed in traditional Apache clothing. From the looks of his leather and beaded vest he, or his adopted father, was of high rank in the tribe. Braids hung over his thin shoulders. Red braids, the same shade of the Red River mud.

  James stood and stared. Every inch of skin showing on the kid seemed to be covered with bruises or cuts or dried blood. One of his eyes was swollen closed and the other glared straight at James with pure hatred.

  Blue eyes, James noticed. The same color as Millie’s.

  The sergeant took command. “I’m assuming you are the Kirkland the rangers have been telling me is coming.”