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BOOK: Laura Abbot
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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.

Chapter Four

S
carcely daring to breathe, Caleb held Lily, moved by both her trembling and her floral-scented hair brushing his chin. Conflicting emotions tore through him—the unexpected joy of the embrace set against his rage at Corporal Adams. He itched to get at the man. First, though, he needed to see Lily safely to her family. Reluctantly, he stepped away. “I’m sorry, Miss Kellogg. This man should never have accosted you. I assure you he will be punished.”

She straightened to her full height, adjusted her collar, then smoothed flyaway tresses back from her face. “I will count on that, Captain.”

“Are you steady enough for me to escort you home?”

“I think so. It was all so sudden...and shocking.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.” He was aware of the forced formality of their conversation. Had she been offended by his embrace? Yet she had lingered there contentedly as she recovered from her panic.

“Please give me a moment,” she said, turning away from him as if to study the storm, now diminishing in strength. She held herself purposefully, like a shattered vessel that had been glued back together. She seemed to be composing herself by sheer effort of will. “All’s well that ends well,” she finally said.

His pent-up anger threatened to explode. It hadn’t ended well. That cad Adams had terrified her.

With a deep sigh, Lily faced him. “When we see my sister and father, I would ask you not to dramatize the situation. Rose doesn’t need undue worry. As for Papa, he already suffers guilt for bringing us here with him. I fear he might never forgive himself.”

“Eventually the facts must be told and Adams held accountable. But I will permit you the telling of the tale.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Caleb?” he asked hopefully.

For the first time in their conversation, she mustered a half smile. “Caleb. You were more than a friend today. You were my rescuer.”

“I’m thankful I was here to help.”

They stood a foot apart, their gazes locked, until a clap of thunder caused them to start. Caleb took Lily’s arm and they dashed through raindrops to the Kellogg home.

Rose must’ve seen them coming. She flung open the door and hugged her sister. “We’ve been worried about you. Were you caught in the storm?”

Ezra Kellogg stood behind Rose, his eyebrows knit with concern. Never taking his eyes off Lily, he acknowledged Caleb with a curt “Captain.”

Caleb squeezed Lily’s arm gently before relinquishing his grasp. “Your daughter had a bit of a fright—”

“But I’m quite fine now, thanks to Captain Montgomery.”

“Please come in, Captain.” Rose took Lily’s damp cloak and stood aside. “We all need a cup of tea. Lily, sit down and collect yourself and then do tell us what has happened.”

Ezra directed Caleb to a chair by the fire and settled Lily on a small sofa. While Rose brought in the tea, Ezra wrapped Lily in a wool afghan, then sat down beside her, pulling her close. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Now,” he said, “what’s this all about?”

When Lily didn’t respond, Ezra turned to Caleb. “You, sir. We’re awaiting an explanation.”

“Papa, there is little to explain.” Lily raised her head and looked at them one by one. “I had started home when the storm broke. When it raged all about me, I sought temporary refuge in a storeroom and then made a dash for headquarters. There Captain Montgomery was kind enough to ease my fears.”

Caleb sent her a questioning glance. She couldn’t let it go at that. “Lily?” he said by way of encouragement, then inwardly reproached himself for taking the liberty of using her first name in this setting.

She glared at him, defying him to correct her version of events. While he hoped the matter of Adams could be taken care of discreetly, Ezra Kellogg deserved a fuller answer. Caleb suspected in a more intimate setting with her sister, Lily would confide the truth, but perhaps the incident was still too raw for her to discuss with her father.

Ezra turned to Lily. “Daughter, I recommend you take a tonic when you finish your tea. Then after supper it would be best for you to retire for the evening. You have had a trying experience, but rest should restore you.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You are safe now, for which I thank God.”

She touched her father’s cheek. “And Captain Montgomery.”

“Ah, yes.”

Rose stepped forward and gathered Lily, afghan and all, and led her from the room.

After the women had departed, Caleb stood and prepared to leave. The surgeon crossed to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sir, might I have a word with you in private?” Ezra Kellogg was no fool. The look on his face revealed his suspicion that Lily had withheld information. “Follow me.”

The surgeon ushered Caleb to his office in the hospital, closed the door behind him and leaned against his desk, arms folded across his chest. “There is more to the story, am I correct, Captain?”

“Yes, sir.” Although Caleb felt uncomfortable telling the part of the tale that Lily had chosen to omit, her father needed to know.

Ezra gestured to the wooden chair against the wall. “I’m listening.”

Caleb lowered himself into the seat, then fixed his eyes on the doctor. “One of our enlisted men attempted to assault Lily.”

Ezra raked his fingers through his graying hair. “I’ve been afraid of something like this.”

“Fortunately Lily was able to escape his grasp and run away from him before anything more serious happened. When I first saw her from headquarters, she was running lickety-split across the parade ground, pursued by the cad, who fell back when I stepped outside. I did what I could to calm her and assure her she was safe.”

Ezra spoke in a steely tone. “Do we know the identity of this scoundrel?”

“I do. Corporal Adams. I will be ordering him held in the stockade as soon as I leave here.”

Ezra rounded his desk and slumped into the chair, burying his face in his hands. “I should never have brought my family here. I knew what rough-and-tumble places military forts are. I permitted my own needs and desires to override my common sense.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Most of the men are good souls who respect women.”

As if he hadn’t heard, Ezra said, “I’ll never forgive myself. What have I done to my daughter?”

Caleb realized he needed to get the man’s attention. “Sir, listen to me. This was not your fault. It was the result of one man’s actions, a man who needs to be drummed out of the army in disgrace.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Lily begged me not to tell you about this. I think she was afraid you’d react just as you have. In no way does she regard any of this as your fault. Furthermore, she seemed to recover well. She is brave and resilient. She will worry about you if she thinks she has been a cause of your increased concern.”

“Have you ever had a child, Captain?”

“No.”

“Then you cannot know how strong is a father’s instinct to protect his children. It is a grave responsibility, which I have failed.”

“Even the best father cannot foresee and prevent all circumstances. Let Lily guide you. She loves you very much and wanted only to spare you pain.”

Ezra scraped his hands across his face, then looked at Caleb. “I fear I have forgotten myself. My daughter called you her rescuer, and for that I am most grateful. I know that for every scoundrel and hooligan, there are fine, conscientious men like you, Captain.” He stood then and offered his hand across the desk. “Thank you, sir. I am in your debt for your service to Lily.”

Caleb grasped the man’s hand and said, “Rest assured justice will be done in this matter, sooner than later. I will attend to it directly.”

“I would expect no less.”

Exiting the hospital, Caleb strode across the parade ground to the enlisted men’s barracks. Inside, some men were playing cards or writing letters, but in the back corner a tight group clustered around a dice game, Adams among them, the visor of his cap pulled low as if to make himself invisible. The minute the duty sergeant saw Caleb, he shouted, “Attention!” The men rose to their feet, braced for what might follow and saluted.

Caleb let his eyes rove over the assembly, before closing in on Corporal Adams. Then he called him out. “Adams, front and center. You are summarily ordered to the stockade, pending investigation of a charge of assault.”

No one looked at the culprit as he slunk through the stony silence toward Caleb, his shifty eyes darting about as if soliciting sympathy. Caleb waited until the man stood in front of him. “Do you understand the charge?”

“I didn’t do nothin’,” Corporal Adams whined.

“That is for your superior officers to determine. Thank your lucky stars it isn’t solely up to me. Consider yourself officially on report. Come along.”

Caleb saluted the sergeant and, accompanied by the unrepentant corporal, strode from the room, holding on to his temper by only the shortest tether.

* * *

In the days that followed, Lily tried to forget the afternoon of the storm. She couldn’t bear to think what might have happened had she not escaped the leering corporal, nor did she want to remember how protected she had felt in Caleb’s arms. It had been bewildering to go from the clutches of one man to the welcome embrace of another. Rather than dwell on either sensation, she threw herself into her work at the hospital, even though her father had expressed reservations. “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you?”

From Ezra’s obvious concern, Lily suspected that Caleb had told her father exactly what had happened. The captain had sought her out the day after the attack to assure her that Corporal Adams was locked in the stockade awaiting a hearing.

Even so, Lily was now more cautious as she moved among the men, no longer innocent concerning the occasional one who eyed her just a trifle too long or smirked when he thought she wasn’t looking. But mostly the soldiers were embarrassingly solicitous of her. Whatever hopes she had entertained of keeping the affair quiet had been disappointed. A military hearing could hardly be kept secret, but thankfully justice had been swift. Adams would remain under guard pending transfer to Fort Riley.

Rose had been tender with her the night of the incident, finally coaxing the story out of her. Lily had confessed to the fear that had clotted her throat when the corporal dragged her into the storeroom and laid his hands on her. Even now the rasp of his coarse fingers on her skin and the smell of his sour tobacco breath lingered in her memory. Rose had wiped away her tears and rocked her in an embrace. “There, there,” she had said. “Try to concentrate instead on your good fortune that Captain Montgomery saw Adams and protected you.”

Every day since, warm spring winds howled and dust flew in the air and choked the throat. Restlessness unlike any Lily had ever known surged within her. No place—not the hospital, the library or the cemetery—brought her peace. Even thinking about St. Louis made her dejected—it seemed a distant goal. She felt as if the flame of her soul had been snuffed out.

Near the end of April a few wagon trains appeared. Camped near the fort to avail themselves of both protection and the opportunity to restock provisions, the settlers brought with them stories of previous hardships as well as their idealized hopes for the future. The women, in particular, gazed fondly at the fort, perhaps wishing they could stay rather than launch into the dangerous, unknown sea of prairie grass.

Lily had seen Caleb going about his duties, and once or twice they’d been together in the library. However, others were present so no further literary discussions had ensued. Lily fretted in a limbo of frustration.

Late one night a few days later, she was awakened by frantic knocking on their door, followed by her father’s commanding voice. “Take her into the hospital and I will get my daughters to assist.”

Closing the door, he called to them. “Girls, are you awake? Come quickly to the hospital to assist with a delivery. Bring plenty of towels.”

Rose, dressed first, fetched clean towels. Lily slipped into a shift, and both donned clean white aprons before extinguishing the candles and hurrying next door.

Behind the curtain drawn around one bed came the sound of a woman bawling in pain. Lily moved to the head of the bed where the woman lay, her skin ashen, her cracked lips caked with the salt of her tears. Rose had gone to boil water, and her father stood at his patient’s side palpating her abdomen, his face grave. “She has been in labor since yesterday evening,” he said quietly. “I fear both she and the child are in distress. Daughter, can you determine how the baby is presenting?”

Lily dipped her hands in hot water, scrubbed them with soap and moved to the foot of the bed. What she saw upon examination was not reassuring. When her father raised his eyebrows in question, Lily shook her head in the negative.

As another contraction racked the whimpering woman, the surgeon made his decision. “I fear mother will not last long. We must take the infant.”

While he went to inform the father, Lily and Rose prepared the instruments and changed the bed linens. The woman watched them with large, sad eyes. “Save my baby,” she whispered. Then she added in the howl of a wounded animal, “I told Jacob I never wanted to come west.” Her tone hardened. “Never.”

Lily knew that many women died in childbirth on the trail. That, along with cholera and typhus, posed an enormous threat, not to mention possible attacks by hostile Indians. Yet so many of these wives had no choice; they were tied to their husbands and lacked alternatives. Lily vowed under her breath that she would never submit to such grim realities. If only she could wait in God’s time for deliverance from this wilderness.

Ezra reentered the room, and after that, all extraneous thoughts fled in the intensity of the procedure. Her father’s deft movements were swift, and soon he had extracted a tiny, wrinkled infant who, with Rose’s ministrations, finally managed a feeble cry. While Rose cleaned and swaddled the baby, Lily and her father worked frantically to stem the woman’s bleeding and close the incision. Lily sutured while her father listened to the mother’s heartbeat and took her pulse. “Thready” was all he said. A knowing glance passed between the two. They had done what they could, but the mother’s life hung in precarious balance.

BOOK: Laura Abbot
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