A Dream Unfolding (45 page)

“Everything okay, Lieutenant?” Bixley asked, breaking the spell.

Joshua let go of Hannah slowly, knowing Bixley would likely rile him for his behavior later.
 
Clearing his throat, he said, “Hannah, come meet our Pima guides.”
 
She followed to his right, slightly behind as if still uncertain these Indians could be trusted.
 
Joshua introduced her to the guides and after a brief explanation of the misunderstanding, everyone seemed more at ease.

Offering her his arm, Joshua led her back to camp, notably aware of her light touch on his arm.
 
He performed similar gentlemanly acts numerous times with her.
 
Why were his senses suddenly in tune with her every breath?

He stopped at the campfire near the mess wagon.
 
When Hannah let go of his arm to retrieve her bedroll, he suddenly felt her absence.
 
Joshua watched as she settled by the fire.
 
Longing filled his heart as he stood there, realizing just how much he would like to keep her close.
 
Perhaps he should reiterate his proposal from a few months ago.

Late the next morning, the line of wagons arrived on time at the new site of Fort Whipple.
 
There, awaiting the group, was the small contingent of soldiers and cavalry that were sent ahead to plan the layout.
 
The wagons were directed where to go and the unpacking began.

Having done their packing job well, Hannah and the other women unpacked everything in a matter of hours, leaving just enough time to make the final meal for the day.
 
The long line of hungry men waited patiently for their turn to be served.

“Lieutenant Harrison,” she smiled as she dished up his plate.
 
Still embarrassed by her misunderstanding yesterday, she hoped he did not think worse of her.

“Hannah,” he replied with a broad smile.
 
“I see you ladies managed to get things settled here in short order.”

She nodded as the next man in line shuffled closer.
 
The lieutenant took the not so subtle hint and left the line, sitting at a table nearby.
 
Hannah heaped food onto the impatient man’s plate avoiding the temptation to glare at him.
 
Instead she glanced over at Lieutenant Harrison and was rewarded with a smile.

Odd, how their friendship seemed to pick up where it left off, even after months of little contact.
 
Much of the last three months, he had been gone on patrols—escorting the governor or escorting the military mail—with only a handful of days at the fort between assignments.
 
Most of her interactions with him had been confined to the short pleasantries at meal times on those rare occasions he was at the fort.
 
Last night’s embarrassing episode was the most she had spoken to the lieutenant in months.
 
She missed his friendship and found herself wondering how wives of the military men managed with the long absences.

On Sunday afternoon, Hannah tapped her foot impatiently as the last few men filtered into the mess tent for the midday meal.
 
She could barely contain her excitement.
 
She and Martha were going to visit Betty this afternoon on her half day off—which would start just as soon as these last few men were served.

Finally, when the last man was served his meal, Hannah untied the apron from her waist.
 
Walking back to her tent, she dropped the apron on the crate acting as a chair.
 
She would need to find some time to wash a few things soon.
 
Unpinning her hair, she brushed out the long strands before twisting them into a neat chignon.
 
Placing the last pin in her hair, she took up her mirror to survey her appearance.
 
Satisfied, other than the dark circles under her eyes, she set the small mirror back on the crate.

She was tired.
 
Tired of living in a tent.
 
Tired of living out of crates.
 
Tired of working so hard.

Hannah squared her shoulders, trying to think on better things, as she exited her tent.
 
Martha stood waiting a few feet away, with Lieutenant Harrison and two men astride their cavalry horses.
 
When Hannah mentioned to the lieutenant the planned visit to town, he insisted that he accompany the ladies.
 
Later she learned that Major Willis wanted all civilians escorted on any trips to town, despite the short one mile distance.

After greeting the lieutenant and Martha, Hannah waited as Lieutenant Harrison helped Martha into the wagon.
 
Then, grasping her waist, he lifted her up to the seat.
 
Taking the small spot next to Hannah, the lieutenant released the brake and started the wagon in motion.

Hannah surveyed the sights from her spot on the hard springboard seat sandwiched between Martha and the lieutenant.
 
She had an image in her mind of what she thought the town would look like, but reality seemed more primitive than she imagined.
 
In the center of town, there was a large square, what she would call a city block back in Cincinnati.
 
The square included a smattering of log cabin structures, tents, and covered wagons.
 
A clearly defined road outlined the edges of the square.
 
The road was wide allowing enough room for a wagon to stop on one side and still allow two wagons to pass in opposite directions.
 
On the other side of the wide perimeter road, there were more log cabins, tents, and covered wagons.
 
Before arriving at the boardinghouse, Hannah had counted at least six semi-permanent structures, far fewer than she presumed.

Lieutenant Harrison turned the wagon down one of the streets bordering the town square before stopping in front of one of the log cabin structures.
 
A simple painted sign announced “Lancaster Boardinghouse.”
 
Lieutenant Harrison jumped down from the wagon.
 
Before he turned to help Hannah down, she exited from the other side behind an excited Martha.

“Hannah!” Betty’s cheerful greeting reached her ears before the woman stepped from the doorway.
 
Betty engulfed her in a firm embrace and Hannah savored the comforting action.

“This must be Mrs. Murphy,” Betty said as she released Hannah.

“Betty, pleased to meet you,” Martha said as she was engulfed in an equally warm hug.
 
“Please, call me Martha.”

“Come, dears,” Betty said, leading her visitors into the dining hall.
 
“We’ll take our tea back in the kitchen.”

As Hannah followed behind Betty, she studied the room.
 
There were three rows of long tables with benches on both sides.
 
It looked like the room could serve roughly thirty men, with ten or so at each table.
 
Walking through the entrance to the kitchen, a wall stood immediately to the right.
 
Straight ahead, along the back wall, there was a door.
 
Betty propped it open to allow the fresh May air to fill the room.
 
Next to the door was a fire fueled stove.
 
On the wall opposite the stove was a table big enough to fit four people.
 
The final wall was lined with shelves, acting as a pantry and dish storage.

“A real stove,” Hannah sighed in admiration.
 
She had not laid eyes on a real stove since leaving the clinic back in Ohio almost nine months ago.
 
The memory threatened to spill gloom on a pleasant visit, so Hannah forced her attention back to her friends.

Grabbing three mugs from a shelf, Betty poured tea for the three ladies.
 
“Please sit,” she said indicating the table.

As she took her seat, Hannah noticed another door off of the kitchen next to the open back door.
 
That must lead to their private rooms or a storage area.

“Betty, this place is amazing.
 
How did you and Paul build all of this so quickly?” Hannah asked.

“Well, we hired some of the miners and ranchers looking for extra cash.
 
We have two bunkhouses out back where the men board.
 
Each one can hold up to ten men, maybe more when we need to pack them in.
 
The bunkhouses each have a small room where the men can wash up.
 
Besides the outhouses, we also have a very small barn, if you want to call it that.
 
That’s where we house Gerdie and a few chickens.
 
Gerdie’s the milk goat.
 
The small corral next to it will fit a horse or two and it gives Gerdie a place to stretch her legs.”

“How many boarders do you have now?
 
What do they do for a living?” Martha asked, lifting the steaming cup to her lips.

“Right now we have twelve men.
 
Most are miners.
 
A few of those government men stay here from time to time.”

“How do you feed so many between you and Paul?” Hannah asked.

“Well, truthfully I could use some help.
 
If I only had to worry about cooking, I could probably handle it.
 
But with three meals a day, laundry, and cleaning, I’ve got my hands full.
 
Paul doesn’t get out to the mine as much as he’d like since most days he’s stuck here helping me clean.
 
He never complains about it but I know he would like me to find some help.”

“I know how hard it can be just to feed a large group of men,” Hannah sympathized.

“Mornings are the most difficult since I am often preparing packed lunches for the miners in addition to breakfast.
 
The afternoon is when I get the cleaning done while they are off at the mines.
 
Then, as soon as that’s done, I’m working on supper.”

“Do you serve meals for men who don’t board here?” Martha asked.

“Yes.
 
We have separate rates for individual meals.
 
Most anyone who comes into town these days comes in for dinner.
 
We often are left with some patrons standing, waiting for someone else to vacate a seat.”

“Well, sounds like you
are
busy!” teased Hannah.

“You are looking real good, Hannah.
 
How have you been doing at that fort?” Betty asked.

Hannah started sharing about the routine of daily life at the fort, but before long Betty steered the conversation towards a more personal vein.

Looking into Hannah’s eyes, Betty said, “I was so sorry to hear about the loss of your baby.
 
I wish I could have been there for you through such a difficult time, dear.”

The softness and compassion in Betty’s tone broke down the barriers Hannah carefully erected around her heart.
 
Tears streamed down her face.

“It was so hard,” she confessed, “to lose the baby…” She choked on a sob.
 
“Especially with Drew gone.
 
The baby was…my last connection to him.”

Martha grasped Hannah’s hand as Betty pulled her into a motherly hug.
 
For several minutes, Hannah let herself be comforted from her sorrow by her caring friends.
 
When her tears finally stopped, Betty took the seat next to her.