Читать книгу Into the Wilderness - Laura Abbot - Страница 12

Chapter Three

Caleb joined his fellow officers Saturday night at the tavern just a short walk from the fort. It was a rough frontier establishment, crudely built and redolent of sweat and beer. Loud, harsh voices assaulted his ears. A bar covered one wall, and in the back were several tables of serious card players. Two women, no longer young, their faces caked in makeup, sashayed among the men. Caleb didn’t drink liquor, but neither did he want to appear standoffish. Through the years, he had learned a great deal about those under his command by observing their off-duty activities. Yet such places made him uncomfortable.

“Cap!” Maloney, a cavalryman who had been with him during several engagements, waved him over. Maloney was always good for a few stories. Caleb settled into a chair at the man’s table and didn’t have long to wait for the opening line. “Did you hear the one abut the general who saw a ghost?”

While the storyteller waxed eloquent, Caleb studied the crowd. Some gambled, some ogled the ladies, others, their eyes glazed over, threw back whiskey, undoubtedly searching for oblivion. He, too, sometimes longed for oblivion, but had long ago made the decision not to drink or gamble. He’d seen firsthand what such indulgences could cost a man—in some instances, not only his dignity but his soul.

When Maloney’s story came to its hilarious conclusion, Caleb rose and headed toward the door. Passing by a table of enlisted men, he overheard the tail end of a conversation and recognized Corporal Adams as the speaker.

“...and that one’s ripe for the pickin’ and I might just be the one to harvest her.”

“In a pig’s eye,” his fellow cackled. “She’s too good for the likes of you, Miss Lily is.”

“They’s all the same beneath that flouncin’ and finery. You just wait. I’ve got my eye on her. Some dark night—”

Caleb jerked the man to his feet. “You’ll do no such thing, Adams, or I’ll have you on report so fast it will seem like a cyclone hit you.” It took all of Caleb’s will to refrain from hitting the man in his obscene mouth.

Sniveling, Adams looked up at him through bleary eyes, his mouth stained with chewing tobacco. “’Twas just talk.”

“You make sure of that or you’ll deal with me.” Caleb thrust the man back in his seat and glared at him to be sure he understood.

“Mighty protective, aren’t you?” the corporal mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’.” Then he added, “Sir,” as if that would vindicate him.

“Change the subject, then,” Caleb said before striding out into the night, fists clenched at his side. This wasn’t the first man Caleb had heard talking about Lily, but most were respectful. Adams was a sneak, and Caleb hoped he was all talk, but based on his history with the corporal, he wasn’t so sure.

Walking back to his quarters, he wondered if he would have reacted so strongly had it been just any woman under discussion. He hoped so. But the mere suggestion of such a creature touching Lily Kellogg made his blood boil.

* * *

The much-anticipated spring band concert was a break from the monotony of life at the fort. This particular evening featured two fiddlers, a banjo player and a wizened harmonica player. Benches had been set up in the commissary, and the officers’ wives and daughters had prepared cookies and tea for a social following the musicale.

Major and Mrs. Hurlburt sat in the front row. Effie gestured to Ezra to bring Rose and Lily and join them. There was a stir of anticipation as the musicians took their places. The band performed old folk tunes as well as more recent camp songs. Early on, some of the enlisted men began clapping in time to the beat, and for an hour, all thoughts of danger and homesickness were suspended.

Lily was aware of the bachelor officers sitting in the row behind her, their buttons brightly polished, their gloved hands resting on their knees. Since the arrival of Aunt Lavinia’s letter a couple of weeks ago, Lily had been pondering her future. Was it unrealistic to consider another world—one of sophistication, intelligent discourse and high fashion? Rose had urged her to encourage Captain Montgomery, yet it would be hypocritical to lead him on. Attractive as he was, her favorable impressions of the man were surely skewed by the limited world of Fort Larned.

At the conclusion of the concert, the musicians bowed to enthusiastic applause and then asked the audience to join them in singing “Aura Lee.” Behind her, Lily heard a rich baritone voice and discovered when she stood to leave that the singer who had pierced her heart was Captain Montgomery.

Effie shoved her way between Rose and Lily and grabbed the captain by the arm. “Rose and I are helping serve the tea, but perhaps you could get some refreshments for this young lady.” She nodded at Lily.

“My pleasure,” the captain said, following the major’s wife to the food table to comply with her request. Before Rose moved off to join Effie, she poked Lily in the ribs and whispered, “It won’t hurt you to flirt a bit.” When Lily glared at her, Rose affected wide-eyed innocence and added, “Consider it a rehearsal for your assault on St. Louis beaux.”

Juggling two cups and a plate of cookies, Captain Montgomery returned to Lily. Most of the crowd had gone outside to eat, but he set the refreshments on a bench. “Shall we stay here?”

She looked around, flustered to see how few concert-goers remained. “This is fine,” she said, sinking onto the bench.

He handed her a cup, then made a toasting gesture with his own. “To you,” he said quietly.

“Whatever for?”

He smiled. “For gracing this place with beauty and gentleness. Most of us have lived with men for far too long. You are a breath of fresh air.”

The compliment both flattered and disturbed her. “Sir, I think you give me too much credit. I would suggest it is easy to say such things when, by your own admission, you have been long deprived of feminine companionship.”

“Do you think me so devoid of discernment that I am drawn to just any woman?”

Drawn? He was drawn? How to answer such a question? “Forgive me, Captain. Of course, you must know your own mind.”

“As I believe you must know yours. From what the men tell me, you are a fair, but demanding taskmistress—is there such a word?—among your patients.”

“A hospital is not the place for indecisiveness or the encouragement of malingerers.”

“Although one might not blame them for preferring your company to that of a drill sergeant.”

“I assure you there are times in that environment when I bear a closer resemblance to a drill sergeant than a docile maid.”

“From what I’ve seen of you, docile isn’t a word that comes readily to mind.”

She couldn’t help herself. She chuckled. “What word does come to mind?”

He leaned back as if to study her. “Perhaps curious. Or maybe determined.”

“And what led you to such conclusions?”

“Your interest in medicine, your passion for that which interests you, whether it is nursing or literature. I suspect there is more going on in that head of yours than meets the eye.”

“You, sir, are a keen observer. I shall have to watch my p’s and q’s.”

He set down his cup. “Would it be presumptuous to ask you to call me by my Christian name?”

Lily was flustered. This conversation was moving beyond her powers to control it. “You have me at a disadvantage, Captain. Are we to become friends, then?”

“That is my intent, especially as we are both book lovers.”

“Then, as friends—” she leaned forward by way of emphasis “—in informal situations, I will call you Caleb.”

“Good.” He hesitated as if hearing his name echo. “Would you object to saying it again?”

She looked at him quizzically, then softly repeated, “Caleb.”

“Thank you. It has been many months since I have heard my name uttered by a lovely woman. And, then, only by my sister, Sophie.”

Unaccountably, Lily felt her eyes moisten. She had never considered how a soldier might miss simple feminine interactions or long for a soft, endearing voice. Casting about for a safer topic, she said, “Tell me about your sister.”

He stood. “Perhaps we could take a turn around the parade ground while I relate some Sophie stories.” He held out his hand to assist her to rise.

Tucking her arm through his, she was startled by a sensation very like happiness. Surely, she told herself, it was the beauty of the spring night rather than her companion that provoked such an emotion.

On their walk, she discovered that he was a gifted raconteur. His mother had died giving birth to Sophie, and he obviously doted on his younger sister, a tomboy of the first magnitude. His tales of her cutting off her long hair when she was ten in order to look more like a boy and wading into the river to noodle for catfish were both humorous and poignant. He painted a vivid picture of his sister’s flyaway curly red hair and ended by saying, “Sophie possesses a mind of her own, but she has a generous heart.”

“I think I’d like her,” Lily said, full of admiration for the independent young woman who dared to live beyond the conventional.

Caleb faced her. “She would like you.” He clasped her hand between his own. “I like you.”

“Captain—”

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I don’t know what to say.”

He snugged her hand beneath his arm and started walking slowly toward her home. “You don’t need to say anything.”

She decided silence was the best course lest she offer any more encouragement than, inadvertently, she may have already given. As they walked, an awkwardness seemed to develop where earlier there had been camaraderie. She could ask him about the mother he had lost, but they were nearing the hospital. Perhaps another time. Did she want another time?

At her door, he gently disengaged his arm and faced her. “Miss Lily, I pray I have not overstepped my bounds.”

Again, she was at a loss for words. “It’s late, Captain. It’s best to say good-night.” When his eyes clouded, she took pity on him. “Until we meet again, Caleb.” She liked saying his strong, masculine name.

“Good night, Miss Lily.” As if remembering his manners, he added stiffly, “Thank you for a pleasant evening.”

Inside the house, she leaned against the closed door, bewildered. He had shown signs of his interest in her, but in the past few minutes had seemed to retreat into formality. She had enjoyed his company more than she cared to admit. That concerned her. She would need to steel herself and not let her fickle emotions sidetrack her plans.

When Lily entered the bedroom she shared with Rose, her sister was just finishing plaiting her long reddish-blond hair. The light from the candle on the bedside table cast an intimate glow. Lily loosened her buttons, plucked her nightgown from its hook and prepared for bed. Rose watched her, a smug smile playing about her lips. “Well?” she finally said. “How did you find your Captain Montgomery?”

“He’s not mine,” Lily said decisively, taking the pins out of her hair and beginning her ritual one-hundred brush strokes. Knowing that those three words would not satisfy her sister, she went on. “Like many of our officers, he is lonely. I provided a temporary diversion, no doubt.”

Rose hooted. “Are you blind? The way he looked at you was special.”

“He can look all he wants, but I will not encourage him. He would only be a distraction in my life.”

“The life that’s taking you to St. Louis?”

Lily set down her brush and put her hands on Rose’s shoulders. “I’m sorry it’s difficult for you to understand, but I have to be true to myself.”

Rose reached up and clasped Lily’s hands. “I know. Papa and I have realized for some time that this place is too confining for your spirit.” She bowed her head, whispering so quietly Lily had to bend closer to hear her. “But it is so hard to let you go.” Rose looked straight into Lily’s eyes. “I suppose I had hoped that if you married an army officer, our paths would cross now and again. And of the lot, Captain Montgomery seems a good man—a man who would cherish you or whomever else he chose.”

“It is a fine thing to be cherished. Pray that I may find such a suitor in the city.”

“I cannot honor your request. I will pray for you, of course, but for your well-being, happiness and the fulfillment of God’s purpose for you, wherever you may be.”

Lily embraced her sister, so good and true. Then she blew out the candle, and they curled into the depths of the feather bed they had shared since childhood. Soon she could hear her sister’s gentle exhalations, but sleep eluded Lily. She lay awake for some time, not thinking so much about St. Louis as remembering the name Caleb and how he had needed to hear it spoken.

She turned on her side and shortly before falling asleep whispered to the shadows, “Dear God, why can’t life be simple?”

* * *

When Caleb entered his quarters, Will Creekmore was sitting at the desk writing a letter by lantern light. “Did you enjoy the concert?”

Caleb stripped off his gloves and jacket and tossed them on a chair. “It was a welcome morale boost. Routine drills get mighty boring for the men.”

“And for us.”

Caleb noticed a daguerreotype sitting on the desk. He pointed to it. “Your family?”

The lieutenant picked it up and gazed at it fondly. “No. Fannie, my sweetheart back in Wisconsin.” He hesitated and then added, “She’s been waiting a long time. I’m asking her to come here. To be married. But it’s far from her home. I don’t know if...” He sighed. “All I can do is ask, though I do hate to inflict such a long journey on her.”

“It’s a lonely life out here. For your sake, I hope she says yes.”

“Speaking of the ladies, how was your evening with Miss Kellogg? I couldn’t help noticing how you favored her.”

In the confusion of his feelings, Caleb didn’t want to discuss Lily, but neither did he want to be rude. “She is a delightful young woman.”

His fellow officer speared him with a look. “Whose company you enjoy.”

Caleb shrugged helplessly, wishing he had done a better job of resisting Miss Kellogg’s charms.

Will stood and clapped a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “Heaven help us, then. We can fight the rebel and the savage, but one look from a pretty woman and we’re goners.” He gathered up his ink, pen and paper. “I’m turning in. Good night, Montgomery.”

“Good night. Leave the lantern. I want to read for a while.”

After the man departed, Caleb picked up the book he’d left on the shelf and settled in a chair. But the book remained unopened, forgotten in the swirl of his thoughts. Lily Kellogg was a puzzlement. At the same time she had seemed interested in their conversation, he’d sensed a reserve on her part, as if she was unwilling to commit fully to their dialogue. Perhaps he had been too forward and she was merely being proper. Given his lack of recent experience with women, he was at a loss. He fingered the leather-bound volume in his lap. If only there were a treatise to teach him how to read women. How to court them without the fumbling awkwardness he had felt when he left Lily at her doorstep.

Courtship? Where had that idiotic notion come from? But even as the idea formed, the specter of Rebecca rose in his mind, and his spirit curled in on itself. He was too near his goal of joining his family in the cattle business to be waylaid by a woman.

He closed his eyes, picturing the verdant hills of the Montgomery Ranch, the beauty of the blooming redbuds his brother had described and the panorama of orange-pink sunsets stretching across the horizon. It was there he would ultimately build a home and father children. Someday he would have a wife. But why, lately, did the “someday” wife of his imagination look like Lily? Could she—or any woman—endure his nightmares? Accept his role in the Washita battle, especially when he couldn’t?

* * *

The unseasonably warm April afternoon was made even more unpleasant by wild winds rattling windows and blowing dust high into the air. Lily moved among the beds of men laid low by spring fevers, following her father as he stopped to recommend treatment or offer encouragement. After their rounds, Lily prepared medications and folded clean laundry.

She consciously tried to appear busy to avoid the unpleasant stares of one of the enlisted men recently assigned to hospital duty rotation. He had a weasellike appearance and followed instructions to the bare minimum a chore might require. It seemed every time she moved around the ward, he was lurking nearby with the same insolent look on his face. She was probably overreacting, but something about Corporal Adams made her distinctly uncomfortable. She shuddered before resuming her work.

Late that afternoon her father asked her to go to the post office to check on a package he was expecting, a medical book about the treatment of snake and insect bites. She welcomed her escape.

However, when she stepped outside, strong winds buffeted her, whipping her skirt around her legs. She tightened the sash on her bonnet and struggled toward the sutler’s. Once there, she checked with the officious postal agent. “Have you a parcel for the surgeon?”

“Nasty day, what?” he said, his eyes roaming over her in an unseemly manner.

“Indeed.”

He waited another beat before withdrawing a package from under the counter. “Wouldn’t do to get it wet. Best hasten home, missy. Clouds are comin’.”

“I’ll hurry.” She grabbed the package and turned to leave, stunned to see Corporal Adams slouched against the door, hands in his pockets. When she tried to slip past him, he fell in beside her. “Doc sent me to help you.”

She eyed him with suspicion. Her father had never before sent anyone in such a situation. “I’m fine, thank you, Corporal.”

Despite her dismissal, he followed her outside. Suddenly the fierce winds died, and a humid, pea-green canopy fell over the fort. Looking to the west, Lily saw thunderhead upon thunderhead mounting to the heavens and rolling toward them. She picked up her pace, leaning protectively over the package as the first pellets of rain fell. Then before she had gone more than a few yards, the sky went black, a gust of wind hit her and the heavens opened up.

“Here, miss.” Adams seized her by the arm and pulled her into a darkened storehouse. “We’ll be right cozy in here.” His eyes glinted dangerously, and his grip on her arm hurt.

She struggled against him. “I’m going home.”

The soldier moved closer. “You’ll get wet. Now don’t be a spoilsport. Besides, ole Adams just wants to have a bit o’ fun.”

He grabbed her around the waist, and she smelled his foul breath on her face. She could hardly breathe. “Get your hands off me!”

In the dim light, his mocking look said it all. He had no intention of letting her go. Fear such as she had never known buckled her knees. It was then that he pulled her to him, pinching her cheeks between his callused fingers. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere, missy.”

Outside the wind roared among the buildings, zinging with power. In some corner of her brain, Lily registered the torrents drumming against the roof.

Adams’s tone changed to sinister cajoling. “Now calm yourself, and give us a kiss.”

Drawing on all her strength, Lily reared back, raised her arms and hit him over the head with the book, then raced into the storm, praying she could outrun him.

Blinded by the rain and slowed by her soaked dress, she sprinted toward the headquarters building, visible in the lightning flashes that briefly illumined the parade ground. Behind her, she heard the corporal’s howled oaths, but as she neared headquarters, he fell back and gave up the chase.

Breathless, she kept on running until she had nearly reached the wooden boardwalk outside headquarters. Then, somehow, she felt herself being lifted into strong arms and held in a protective embrace. When she looked up and saw Caleb, so great was her relief that she was racked with trembling. “Shh,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re safe now.” Then he stared out over her head. “Was that Adams I saw?”

Bile filled her throat and all she could do was nod.

Caleb’s voice was steely. “He won’t be bothering you any more. I’ll see to that.”

Weak as a kitten, Lily laid her head on Caleb’s broad shoulder, drawing from him warmth and security and reminding herself over and over, “I am safe.”

Afterward she had no idea how long she had remained sheltered in the comfort of his arms. All she knew was that she had found peace in the storm.