The Crossed Sabres (33 page)

“Why, Tom—” Eileen said, surprised at his sudden appearance at her door. “I thought you’d be gone for a few days.” She looked at him closely, noting the strain on his face. “Come inside. Is something wrong?”

He put his hands behind his back and nodded. “Yes, there is. I guess you know about it, Eileen.” Winslow hesitated, struggling to get the words out. “You’ve been good for Laurie, Eileen,” he said slowly. “She’s needed a woman for a long time.”

“I guess all little girls need a mother. Just as boys need a father.”

That seemed to make things easier for Winslow. He lifted his head, his eyes fixed on her, and nodded. “Sure. If she were a boy, we’d make out fine, but as things are, I’m not able to handle some things.”

Eileen was puzzled by his words and attitude. He was a man who had few doubts, yet now as he stood before her, there was a hesitation she’d never seen before.

“Eileen,” he asked, “have you thought of me as a man you might marry?”

“Why—!” His question caught her off guard, and she blinked, trying to think of a suitable answer. He kept his eyes on her, watching carefully, and finally Eileen nodded. “Yes, Tom. I have.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and shrugged. “You know what I am. You’ll never be rich, but I don’t think you’ll ever know want. I’m a hard man to live with, I guess, in some ways—but you’ll never know meanness from me.”

Eileen was still unable to think clearly. “Tom, I don’t know what to say. You’re a strong man, and I’m lonely. And I love Laurie dearly—” She stopped a moment, then asked, “Do you love me, Tom?”

Winslow knew what his answer should be, the answer she deserved, but he had thought all this out. “Eileen, you’re an attractive woman, and I’ve been alone a long time. I think about you a great deal, and I can’t imagine anything better than coming home from a detail with you waiting for me.” He saw something in her eyes, something he could not understand, and without thought, he put his arms around her and kissed her. She returned the pressure of his lips, and when he stepped back, he said, “If thinking you’re a woman I’d like to share my life with and wanting you is love—then I love you. Maybe that’s not enough for you, though. A woman wants romance, and I’m not much for that anymore.”

“I’m not a green girl, Tom,” Eileen said quietly. She stood there, examining him with care and a sort of wonder. “It’s too soon for me to say, I think. It’s too soon for you, too. We’re very vulnerable, Tom. Both of us have big needs, but maybe that’s not enough to build a marriage on.”

“I don’t want to rush you, Eileen,” Winslow said. “The regiment will be leaving pretty soon. I wanted to say this to you before we left so you could be thinking about it. When I come back, we can talk again.”

She frowned and shook her head. “Tom, I’m afraid! Everyone is saying this will be a hard fight.”

“Probably will. But it’ll be the last one, I think. I know you don’t like the idea of a husband in a fighting outfit, but that’s one of the things you can think about until I get back.” He took a deep breath, then smiled. “Proposing is hard on a man. I’d rather dig a ditch.”

Eileen laughed, the pressure of his offer fading. “I’ll expect a
little
more in the way of courtship when you get back, Thomas Winslow!” She moved forward and kissed him on the lips lightly, then stepped back. “Don’t say anything to Laurie.”

“No, I won’t. Well, let’s go into town and have a celebration, you and Laurie and me.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Celebrate that you didn’t turn me down cold!”

The scene had left Eileen stunned, and for the rest of the afternoon she did her work mechanically, thinking of the strange proposal. There was something oddly unsatisfying about it, some element missing. Finally she put her apron aside and walked out of the house, anxious to get away. Borrowing a wagon from the quartermaster, she drove slowly toward the river and took the ferry across. For an hour she drove down the road leading east, barely aware of the signs of spring beginning to appear—the green shoots of grass, the fresh smell of warmed earth, and the golden tips of buds beginning to appear on the trees.

She stopped to let the horses drink in a small creek that ran across the road. As they nuzzled the water, she let her mind dwell on the scene again. What was it that was not
right
about Tom’s proposal? The question nagged at her, making her half angry.
What did you expect him to do—take you out in the moonlight and get down on one knee quoting poetry?
She was a practical woman, accustomed to analyzing problems and meeting them in a workable fashion. This was ridiculous! Why was it so complicated? Yet she could not rid herself of the sense of something incomplete.

He’ll make you a fine husband,
she argued in her mind.
He’s a strong man who would never let a woman down. Look how he’s given his life to bringing Laurie up—that’s enough loyalty for any woman to know. And when he kissed you, there was something there. He wanted you—and you wanted him, too! More than you’ll admit—more than you wanted Frank, to be honest!

That thought disturbed her, for she didn’t want to think she was driven to marriage by that sort of hunger. She pulled the horses around and sent them back over the dusty road at a fast trot, trying to dismiss the matter, yet knowing she wouldn’t be able to do so. After all, it was the most important decision facing her—one she’d have to make soon.

She passed by the school just as the children came running out of the front door, with Larry right behind them.

“Eileen!” he called.

She swerved over and came to a stop. He grinned up at her, his youthful face smooth as he said, “What’s your hurry? You’re driving like a practice run for a chariot race!”

Eileen said quickly, “I thought I’d catch Laurie before she left.”

“Faith came by and took her down to Beeker’s Store. A new shipment of books came in, and they’re looking them over. She’ll be back in a few minutes, I think. Get down and have something to drink.”

“No, I’ll meet her there.”

Dutton looked at her more closely. “Anything wrong, Eileen?”

She had learned that he was sensitive to her moods, that she hid little from him. “No, nothing’s wrong—” Then she bit her lip, for she saw he wasn’t convinced. “I think I will wait here for Laurie,” she said, and when he had gotten her a drink of water, they sat down on two cane-bottomed chairs beside the well.

He spoke of Laurie’s progress, but saw that she was only
half listening. Finally he said, “The regiment will be going out soon, I hear. Laurie will be staying with you, I suppose.”

“Yes, she will.”

Her reply was short, and Dutton hesitated. Finally he said, “Are you worried about Tom?”

She swirled the water in her glass, then looked up at him. “Yes, I am, Larry.”

He nodded, then asked abruptly, “You’re very fond of Tom, aren’t you? I guess I don’t have much chance against a man like him.”

Eileen knew then that she had to tell him what was happening. “Larry, Tom’s asked me to marry him.” His eyes looked stricken at her words, and pity ran through her. “I . . .I haven’t said yes, but you have a right to know about it.”

Dutton nodded briefly, trying not to show his disappointment. “You’ll get a good man, Eileen,” he said quietly.

“Oh, Larry, I don’t
know
what to do!” she said, upset by the scene. “Tom needs somebody to take care of Laurie, and I need someone. I’ve not told anyone how lonely I get!”

“You’re not a woman who goes around looking for sympathy, Eileen,” Dutton said. “But I think I know.”

“Yes, I really think you do, Larry. You’re the most sensitive man I’ve ever known.” She looked at him, surprise dawning in her eyes, for until she said the words aloud, she had not grasped that truth. He was not a dashing man, but there was a steadiness in him she liked. She had known for some time his feelings for her, and if Tom and Laurie had not come into her life, she would have fallen in love with Larry Dutton. The thought disturbed her for some reason, and she was glad to see Laurie and Faith approaching.

“Look at the books Miss Faith got for me!” Laurie cried as she held up a package for Eileen.

Eileen gave the books a cursory look, then said hurriedly, “We must be going, Laurie. Your father will be hungry, and I haven’t even started cooking supper yet.”

As they drove away with Laurie’s mare tied to the back of
the wagon, Faith said, “I’ve got to get home, Larry. Thanks for letting me take Laurie out early.”

He seemed not to hear her words, but stood staring after the wagon. Then he turned to say, “What? Oh, that’s okay, Faith.” He left her abruptly and returned to the schoolroom, preoccupied and heavy of heart.

****

Time moved forward with the Seventh, and the plans made by Sherman and Sheridan in Washington were relayed to the officers in command. Keen with excitement, Tom Custer met with the sergeants of the regiment late one afternoon. “Gather around, men,” he said, his high tenor voice crisp. “I want you all to know what the general idea is.” He pointed at a large sheet of paper pinned to the wall, pointing out the areas as he spoke:

“Here’s where we are—and here’s where the Indians will be—right in this area in Montana territory. We’ve got to pen them up, so Sherman and Sheridan have come up with a three-pronged attack. We’ll leave here with General Terry and General Custer, heading west. General Crook will leave Fort Fetterman, down here in Wyoming territory heading north. General Gibbon and his forces have already left Fort Ellis up the Yellowstone headed for the area.” He looked up, eyes gleaming. “We’ll have Sitting Bull and the rest of them caught in a vise—a vise with three jaws instead of two! Any questions?”

“How about supplies, Captain?” Winslow asked.

“No problem there. We’ve got a ship,
The Far West,
headed down the Missouri loaded to the deck. She’ll go up the Yellowstone as far as Rosebud Creek. Any more questions?”

Sergeant Hines spoke up. “How many Sioux we going against, sir?”

“Oh, maybe a thousand at most,” Custer said carelessly. “We’ll take that many men into the field, and with Gibbon’s and Crook’s commands we’ll have three thousand.” He grinned boyishly, adding, “There won’t be enough Indians to go around, I’m afraid.”

Winslow made no comment, but after the meeting when Sergeant McDermont asked him about the numbers, he shook his head. “The Ree say there’s more Indians in that area than we suppose. I’m glad Gibbons and Crook will be on hand. I’d hate to run up against Sitting Bull with no reinforcements.”

“Well, I guess this is my last campaign,” Hines said slowly. “My bones are achin’ with twenty-eight years of campaigning. I want to go out with trumpets sounding and guidons flying, Tom. Like to see the Seventh cover itself with glory—not for Custer’s sake but for fellows like me who’ve eaten dust and taken the bullets all down the line.”

“You’ll see it, Hines,” Tom said, slapping him on the shoulder. “This one will be something we’ll be telling our grandchildren about!”

When he got home that afternoon, he found Laurie primed for him. “Daddy!” she cried out, clutching his hand after he kissed her. “Guess what? Miss Faith sent word for me to come out and spend a week with her before school starts. Can I go, please!”

“Why, I don’t see why not,” Tom said, thinking rapidly. He had always been honest with her, and now said, “You know I’ll be going out with the regiment pretty soon? Be gone for a few weeks, I guess. Tell you what, I’ll take you out there and visit with Miss Faith; then if we leave before you get back, we’ll have our goodbyes all said.”

Her face grew still, and she thought hard. “I’d like to be here when you leave, Daddy.”

“All right, I’ll come and get you for that.” It pleased him that she wanted to say goodbye to him, and he said, “We’ll go tomorrow morning.”

The next day he took her to the mission, much to Faith’s delight; and after Tom had said goodbye to Laurie, Faith walked out with him.

“Laurie’s excited about this,” Winslow said. “Nice of you to think of it, Faith.”

“It’ll be good for me. She’s such a sweet girl.” Faith stood there, sober and attentive. “Will you leave soon—the regiment, I mean?”

“In a week or so, I’d guess. Always takes longer than you think to get this many men off.”

“Be careful, Tom,” Faith cautioned, her eyes soft as she looked up at him.

Winslow had thought about their last meeting, when he had come to the house and fought with Grayson. Now he said what he had planned. “I was wrong the last time I was here, Faith. Had no right to pick a fight with the lieutenant.” He shrugged his shoulders and made what apology he could. “I think it did something to me, almost dying in that blizzard. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“What did it do, Tom?”

“Hard to describe. I’ve had some close calls in my time, in the war and after. But this was different. Always before I was right in the middle of a lot of noise and action. Could have been killed at any second, but there was no time to think about it. The blizzard wasn’t like that. When I was freezing and fell to the ground, some things came to me, I haven’t thought about in years.” He shifted, his eyes half shut, and murmured in a thoughtful tone, “I thought about God mostly. All my people have been godly. You’d have liked them, especially my grandfather, Christmas Winslow. He was a rough mountain
man, but after he was converted, he spent the rest of his life preaching to the Indians.”