The Unlikely Wife (17 page)

When Hank came, she joined in the singing and laughed at Rebecca’s efforts to teach Hank more complicated and faster dances. She would offer advice, but refused to take a turn at the dancing.

Sergeant Whiting’s arm healed, and he was put back on the active list. His leisurely breakfasts with Rebecca ended, but he managed to find a minute nearly every day to stop and ask after the women.
He always had a bit of gossip and occasionally real news.

In mid-July, Sergeant Whiting reported that cholera had broken out at Fort Harker. “The fort’s been evacuated,” he said.

Rebecca and Alicia were sitting in the shade in front of the tent. Whiting had refused the chair but squatted nearby to talk. Rebecca caught some note of hesitation in his voice and asked, “Evacuated…to here?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I heard.”

Whiting couldn’t stay and left them to mull over the news. Rebecca wondered how poor old Dr. Garman would handle the load. Of course, there could be another doctor on staff, she hadn’t been near the hospital tents to find out, nor had she any reason to have asked.

Alicia’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Maybe that’s who needs my help.”

Rebecca turned toward her young cousin, not wanting to guess what she was thinking. “Who?”

“The sick soldiers when they get here.”

“Alicia. Do you know what cholera is like? Nearly half the people who get it die.”

Alicia shrugged. “Maybe they won’t if there’s enough help.”

Rebecca left her chair and knelt beside Alicia. “They,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Alicia, I’m talking about you.”

“Rebecca,” she answered quietly, “I need to find some reason to live so I’ll quit wanting to die.”

“Don’t even say things like that.”

“It’s true, Rebecca. All my dreams were ruined that night. I’ll never have a husband, a family. I can’t even stand to have a man talk to me.”

“But that’ll pass, Alicia. You’ve gotten much braver the last few days.”

Alicia shook her head. “You don’t know. I feel so sick inside. It’s more than fear. Once, when you were gone, somebody, I don’t know who, came looking for you. I thought he was—I mean, he even looked like—”

“Alicia.” Rebecca tried to pull her cousin into her arms, but Alicia pushed her away.

“I have to finish. I hid, but this terrible panic came over me anyway. He went away, but I still wanted to run. It didn’t completely pass until you came home.”

“But how can you think of going off to work in the hospital?”

“Dr. Garman doesn’t frighten me. And I don’t think the sick soldiers will either. I know they can’t hurt me.”

Rebecca wanted to scream at her cousin’s logic. “They
can
hurt you, Alicia. They can make
you
sick, too. They’ll be quarantined. You probably won’t be allowed to come back here until the epidemic’s over.”

“You don’t need me here, Rebecca.”

“What about your mother? Do you think she’s going to allow this?”

“I won’t ask her. I have to do this.” She rose from her seat and Rebecca stood as well. “I’ll go talk to Dr. Garman.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You won’t talk me out of this,” Alicia said as they started toward the hospital tent.

“Maybe I’ll volunteer as well.” Rebecca hoped Dr. Garman would help her talk Alicia out of the idea. The work would be discouraging and exhausting as well as dangerous. But if Alicia insisted, Rebecca would be there to watch over her.

Dr. Garman’s reaction wasn’t at all what Rebecca had hoped. “Why, Alicia, this could be just the thing for both of us,” he said. “You may find your life’s work.”

“Or your life’s end,” Rebecca said, growing desperate for an argument that worked.

“Ah, but we’re not so ignorant of cholera as we were twenty years ago. It’s caused by a contaminated water supply. The only case we’ve had here so far is a soldier just in from the field.”

A case here already. Whiting hadn’t mentioned that. “If it’s so safe,” Rebecca said, “I’ll help as well.”

Dr. Garman shook his head. “You have a young husband who’ll be coming home soon. You’ll want to leave the quarantine tent and could well pass the
disease on to him, tired and weak as he’s likely to be.”

She couldn’t quite imagine her husband weak, but it was simply a fleeting thought, and her brain returned to the matter at hand. “Then how can you promise Alicia will be perfectly safe?”

The doctor was unperturbed by the outburst. “I can’t promise. But she hasn’t ever been perfectly safe, has she?”

Rebecca gave up on the doctor and turned back to Alicia. Though she had been quiet during the exchange, her chin jutted out at a determined angle. Without another word, Rebecca admitted defeat.

“When should I start?” Alicia asked.

“There’s much to do before the soldiers get here sometime tomorrow. They’ll all be separated from the other troops for a few days. But there are bound to be some afflicted with the disease when they arrive. I’d appreciate your help as soon as you’re willing to give it”

“I’ll go pack a few things,” Alicia said.

The doctor nodded. “We’ll have a place ready for you.”

Rebecca watched Alicia as she packed. “What am I going to tell your mother?” she asked.

“You probably better tell her the truth,” Alicia said. “She’s likely to catch you in a lie.”

Rebecca scowled. “I mean, how am I going to explain this to her? She’s going to be upset.”

“She’s always upset, Rebecca. You should be used to it by now. Will you walk with me to the hospital?”

“No.” Maybe the thought of walking across the camp on her own would make her realize how foolish she was being. She certainly wouldn’t have thought of doing it the day before.

“Then this is goodbye,” Alicia said.

Rebecca let her hug her. She let her leave the tent. She even gave her a full two minutes before she ran to catch up. “I’ll walk with you,” she said.

“Don’t keep trying to change my mind.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I know stubborn when I crash into it.”

“Good,” Alicia said, smiling up at her, “because I feel better than I have in weeks.”

She did look more like her old self, Rebecca conceded.

They said their goodbyes again at the hospital. Dr. Garman assured Rebecca that she could visit Alicia outside the tent. “There’s very little chance of spreading the disease without direct contact,” he said.

Rebecca stopped at her father’s tent to give the news to Belle. After moaning, yelling and crying, she finally accepted her daughter’s decision. She said, however, that she would never forgive Rebecca if Alicia died.

Rebecca went home drained by the confrontation. She sank into one of the chairs in front of her tent, feeling lonely. How long before Clark got home? It had been more than a week since there had been any word.

She did her best to shake off the worry. She had enough concern with Alicia. She would have to trust Clark to look after himself.

The next day, Sergeant Whiting stopped by at noon. Rebecca was roasting a chunk of venison. Hank had brought down a deer and practically made himself rich by selling what his mother didn’t want to dry.

“Where’s your little cousin?” Whiting asked.

Rebecca frowned. “She’s decided to become a nurse.”

“A nurse? I see.” He squatted across the fire from her. “She’s volunteered to help with the epidemic. They came in this morning, you know.”

Rebecca nodded. “Don’t tell me you think it’s a good idea.”

“She’s kindhearted. Maybe she felt she had to help.”

Rebecca glared at him. “To make matters worse, I tried to volunteer too so I could watch over her, and the doctor refused my help. Maybe the doctor knows I’m not kindhearted.”

Whiting laughed. “I think you’re kindhearted. You looked after your cousin when she was hurt.”

Rebecca’s head came up. “Who told you she was hurt?”

Whiting raised a hand as if to ward off the question. “I just put things together. Her behavior, the deserter, Clark’s request to check in on the two of you.

“Besides, I wasn’t talking about Alicia, I was talking about you. You like to tease and joke and laugh, and none of those poor sick boys would get any rest. You’re nothing like Annie, that’s for sure.”

The smile would have died on Rebecca’s lips if she hadn’t forced it to stay in place. She turned the spit that held the meat and hoped her question sounded only mildly curious. “Who’s Annie?”

“Annie,” Whiting said with a laugh, “was your lieutenant’s girlfriend. She’s nice enough, I guess, but she isn’t full of life the way you are. I gotta go. Take care of yourself.”

Rebecca forced herself to smile up at him as he rose and left. She watched her lunch cook, then char and finally burst into flames while a thousand questions raced across her brain. And the decision she had to make became clearer.

T
he tent city ahead appeared to reflect the last colors of the sunrise, and Clark thought for a moment he was hallucinating. It seemed incredible that they had left Fort Wallace little more than two days before. Custer had set a grueling pace and planned to move on today with fresh horses for his seventy-five handpicked men. Clark counted himself lucky not to be one of them.

Custer ordered his bugler to play “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” It brought every unoccupied resident of the fort out to see them ride in.

Clark found Rebecca, her skirt clutched in one hand as she hurried toward the command tent. She slowed occasionally to scan the troops. When she found him she smiled and waved. He returned the greeting. For a moment he could pretend that everything was right between them.

At the corral, the troops dismounted, and Clark
turned his mount over to his sergeant. He followed Custer and his junior officers to Huntington’s tent. He passed so close to Rebecca he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her. There wasn’t time to pull her into his arms, and he contented himself with the brush of his fingers against hers.

Custer’s audience with Huntington was brief, the former being eager to be on his way. But Huntington asked Clark to remain and give his own report of the nearly three weeks since he had left the fort. In return, Huntington told Clark about the troops from Fort Harker that had arrived the day before.

“We heard of the epidemic, sir,” Clark said. “I suspect Lieutenant Colonel Custer is worried about his wife back at Fort Riley. This trip to Fort Harker for supplies for Fort Wallace is Custer’s own idea”

Huntington grinned. “You think he’ll head on to Fort Riley?”

“I wouldn’t be completely surprised, sir.”

Huntington waved the subject away. “It’s good you’re home, Clark. Belle says she’s caught your wife entertaining gentlemen callers twice, now.”

This shouldn’t have been a complete surprise either, but Clark felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. All the air had rushed from his lungs, and he didn’t trust his voice.

“One was Sergeant Whiting and the other was our striker, Paddy Malone.”

Clark took a deep breath, easing some of the pain.
“I asked Sergeant Whiting to check on her and your niece while I was away.” He wished he had an easy explanation for Malone.

“Well, you know Belle. It could all be innocent enough. I wouldn’t recommend you confront Rebecca with it. That girl can turn things around until you feel guilty for asking.”

Colonel Huntington’s assessment of Rebecca never quite fit with his own, but arguing with his commanding officer didn’t come naturally. Besides, he had a feeling he wouldn’t get anywhere if he did. His response was the one that came most easily to his tongue. “Yes, sir.”

Huntington nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

Clark left the tent. He wasn’t sure which was more upsetting, the news of the male callers or the way the colonel talked about his daughter. He had half hoped she would still be waiting outside but the area was deserted.

He headed for his tent, trying to decide what, if anything, he should do about Belle’s rumors. Regardless, things couldn’t continue as they were. He and Rebecca needed to talk. But what could he say? He was so tired after Custer’s forced march he would probably end up begging her to love him.

Tomorrow, he decided, after a good night’s sleep. If that was possible next to Rebecca.

As he neared his tent he heard Rebecca humming a slow soft melody. The front of the tent was open,
and he saw them as he stopped. Rebecca and Hank Raymond, locked in an embrace. His gut took another blow.

When the buzzing in his ears subsided and the haze left his vision, he realized they weren’t kissing. They were dancing.

“I like the fast ones better, Mrs. Forrester. I don’t feel like your little feet are in quite as much danger.”

“But when you’re dancing fast and
do
step on my toes, you step down harder.”

“Really?”

“Trust me.”

Clark leaned against the tent post to watch them. Rebecca’s humming was slightly breathless. The glimpses he got of her face revealed cheeks pink from the heat. He could see she was smiling and discovered he was as well. The Raymond boy’s back was to him, and Clark could only guess he was enthralled.

“You’re awfully nice to teach me to dance, Mrs. Forrester,” Hank said. “I promise I’ll use everything you’ve taught me.”

“I need the exercise. All the meat you bring would make me fat without the lessons.” She stepped away, ending the dance.

Clark clapped briefly, bringing both dancers around to face him.

“Clark!”

“Lieutenant Forrester!”

Clark smiled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“We were…I was…ah…leaving.” The boy slipped past and headed for home.

Rebecca hadn’t moved. She watched him closely, and he wondered what she expected to see. “Dancing lessons?” She nodded. “Did you think I’d be upset?”

She shrugged and looked away. He had the feeling she was disappointed. Because he had brought the dancing to an end? He tried to dismiss the thought; Hank was just a boy. But Rebecca was young, too.

“I’m going to the creek for a swim,” he said. It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her along, but he wasn’t so exhausted that he wouldn’t respond to her, and he didn’t trust his control right now.

“I’ll fix some lunch while you’re gone,” she said, already making herself busy.

Clark went to his trunk for soap and clean clothes. He hesitated a moment before leaving. There should be something he could say, something that would express part of what he was feeling without leaving his heart open to too much pain.

I missed you.
But he didn’t say it aloud. He was almost out the tent when she stopped him.

“Clark, I’m glad you’re home.”

He nodded and left, unable to say what he wanted to. He had never known he was a coward before, but there was no other explanation. In the morning, he
told himself. He wanted to wait until his head was clearer. But he knew that was only half the truth.

Clark felt a little better when he returned from the creek. While he was hot again almost instantly, the layer of grime was gone. But the cold water didn’t seem to sharpen his wits. He was still feeling cowardly and confused when he approached his tent.

And watched a man step out of it. “Private Powers?”

“Sir.” The man tucked a bundle under his arm and saluted. “I heard you were back.”

“Were you looking for me?”

“No, I was—” He had raised a hand toward the tent and seemed to realize suddenly how his presence could be construed. “I’ve been looking after your wife’s horse in exchange for my mending.”

Clark nodded, though he wasn’t sure he understood. He watched Powers walk away then turned into the tent. Rebecca was setting the table and seemed oblivious to the exchange.

“Why is Mr. Powers looking after your horse?”

“It seemed the best way to insure that he was cared for.”

Clark walked toward her. She hadn’t yet looked at him. “I thought you would want to do that yourself. I don’t object. I’m just surprised,” he added quickly.

“I could, of course.” She hesitated. “The truth is I got spoiled by the pants.”

“Then wear the pants.”

She shook her head. “People wouldn’t understand. I’ve got some lunch ready.”

She brushed past him and bent to lift a pan from the fire. He remembered her little backside clad in the wool uniform. He was smiling when she turned to face him. She seemed surprised and a little flustered.

“When did you start caring what other people thought?” He followed her to the table less from hunger than from a desire to be a little closer to her. Her dark curls had grown out since he had cut them, and he wondered what they felt like.

She slid into one of the chairs, slipping out of his reach. “When it became more than my own reputation at stake.”

It sounded rehearsed. Or as if she were trying to convince herself. “You’re not concerned what visits from Mr. Powers or young Raymond will do to your reputation. Or mine.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Don’t look so horrified,” he said quickly. “I know why they were here. And I’m sure you have an explanation for Mr. Malone’s visits, as well.”

He hadn’t meant to mention Malone but, God forgive him, he was jealous. Though he tried not to let it show.

“He gives me eggs in exchange for…”

He raised an eyebrow as he waited.

“It’s a secret,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not from me.”

He thought he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes. She leaned forward and said just above a whisper, “He can’t read. I’ve been writing letters for him.”

Her father had been right. He felt guilty for asking. He dipped up some of the fried potatoes and put them on his plate. He wanted to ask if that covered all her male callers, but maybe he was happier not knowing. Rebecca changed the subject, and he hoped that didn’t mean she had something to hide.

“Tell me the news,” she said. “Did you find Kidder’s men?”

“We found their bodies.” The picture came to Clark’s mind and he tried to brush it away. They had picked up the trail, then found a dead horse and finally the mutilated bodies.

“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said.

“It was too small a group to send out. They made an easy target. Ten troopers, one Sioux scout, and Kidder, with a wagon-load of supplies.” He couldn’t help but think of their own expedition with several wagons and an escort of forty untried men. They had been lucky.

“Any other news?” she asked.

“Your father says there’s talk of a peace commission being sent out from Washington.”

“More treaties to break?”

As Clark’s hunger was satisfied, he felt weariness
overtaking him. He could hear it in his voice when he answered, “It’s got to be better than this.”

“You need to sleep,” she said gently, reaching across the table to rest her hand on his.

He wanted to lift her fingers to his mouth, wanted to pull her into his arms. Wanted, he realized, more than he was capable of at that moment. “Why don’t you go for a ride while I catch up on lost sleep?”

She hesitated and he added, “Wear the pants if you want”

Her smile was shy but he pretended it was teasing and flirtatious, and he let it fuel his imagination as he stumbled off to bed. He was asleep almost instantly.

When Clark awoke it was dark. He didn’t need a light to know Rebecca slept beside him. Right beside him. He supposed she had gotten used to sleeping in the middle of the bed while he was gone, then re
membered
Alicia had been here when he left. Perhaps she had only stayed a day or so. The colonel had told him that Alicia was working at the hospital so he had assumed she was fine and hadn’t asked Rebecca about her.

It was just as well. If he didn’t
know
how long she had stayed, he could imagine she had been here until recently. Then he could pretend Rebecca was cuddled against him because she wanted to be near him. She had thrown one leg over his because she had missed
him and wanted to remind herself that he was home. He didn’t want to know better.

He had gone to bed fully clothed but even through the fabric of his pants, he could tell she hadn’t He couldn’t help letting his hand inch toward the delicious weight on his thigh. His fingers contacted warm bare skin. He assumed there was a gown bunched somewhere above this expanse of leg. But he pretended there wasn’t

He wanted to run his hand along her leg, up and over her hip, but he didn’t dare. It would wake her. Would she jump away, shocked? Or roll away, bored? Either way, it would ruin the fantasy. As long as she slept undisturbed, he could pretend she would cuddle closer, return the caress, open her lips to his kiss.

From there his mind imagined all sorts of possibilities. His body willingly responded. When the ache reached a point where he was afraid he would give in to temptation, he carefully extricated himself from his wife and slipped into the other room.

He took a match from his pocket and struck it, finding a lamp to light He kept the wick low, not wanting the light to bother Rebecca. A quick check of his pocket watch told him he had slept nearly fifteen hours. It was early, but he couldn’t return to the bed.

Unless there was an emergency, he was off duty today. He wasn’t sure what he would do to fill the
hours, but it seemed he was getting an early start. Outside, he rekindled the fire, started coffee and put water on to heat so he could shave. He was inside, mixing the slivers of soap in the warm water when he felt Rebecca slip past the curtain.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“So are you, now. Did the light bother you?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I want to talk to you.”

“All right” He left the brush in the cup and turned, giving her his attention.

She smiled. “It can wait until you’re through shaving.”

He studied her for a moment before he turned to the mirror he had hung on the tent post and began lathering his face. He needed to talk to her, too, only he wasn’t sure what to say. He was happy to put it off, even for a few minutes. Maybe the right words would come to him.

“Do you mind if I watch?” she asked.

She had moved closer until he could see her in the corner of his vision. “I don’t mind.”

“I like watching you shave.”

“I know.” He set the cup aside and lifted the razor. He turned to her as he spoke. “You watched me nearly every morning when we were on the trail.”

Her cheeks turned rosy under his gaze. He pulled his eyes back to the mirror. She hadn’t realized he knew about her morning visits to his camp. He probably
shouldn’t have told her. But this morning was the time for honesty.

She was quiet until he dropped the razor in the pan of water, splashed a little on his face and reached for the towel. She took the towel when he was finished and wiped away a bit of soap from his ear he would have sworn wasn’t there when he looked in the mirror.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, turning to move a few steps away. Abruptly she faced him. “I want to go back to Chicago.”