A Journey of the Heart Collection (30 page)

“Boots and saddles? What's that—some kind of war game?”

Rand grinned at the question. “That's the call to mount our horses and get on with our day. I've got to lead a detail to escort a wagon train coming in and then round up some beef for Cookie—that's what the cook's called at any fort I've ever been at. But I'll wager the men will be finding any excuse to come over here to meet you.”

Rand's prediction proved true. Nearly every man in the fort made some excuse to drop in over the next few days. Emmie felt conspicuous even going outside for a walk or to the sutler's store. Men stared at her with awe and something like deep respect in their eyes. It was very intimidating, especially when she felt as she did about all males. Except for Rand. He was a very nice man, God-fearing, and honest to a fault. But there couldn't be two like him in the world.

Each soldier showed up hat in hand, hair slicked back with a hair tonic that smelled of spice, blue
uniform brushed and pressed. Emmie felt sorry for them, but she let Sarah deal with sending them away. Two even proposed marriage, practically in their first breaths.

“I just can't stay inside another minute,” Sarah announced one day after sending Joel off to school. “I'm not used to having to sit around here all day. I don't know why the doctor said I couldn't continue to teach the Sioux children. I feel fine.”

“He's just being cautious.” Rand shoveled the last bite of flapjacks into his mouth. “How about a picnic? The weather has been warm, but it won't last long. You might as well enjoy it while you can.”

Sarah's eyes brightened. “I love that idea. How about you, Emmie?”

Though the thought of leaving the safety of the fort took her aback, Emmie nodded. “That would be wonderful.” She'd come here to be of help to Sarah, and she couldn't let a little fear stand in her way.

Rand pulled on his coat. “I'd go with you, but I need to repair some telegraph line the Indians cut. I'll arrange for an escort. What time do you want to go?”

“Could we go to the stream in the meadow?”

“Sure. Just don't wander off.”

“Thank you, Rand.” Sarah leaned up to brush a quick kiss over his lips.

The sight made Emmie's chest squeeze, and she turned away. It would be hard to ever trust a man with her heart again. Not after such betrayal.

After their morning chores, the women took the laundry to Soapsuds Row, a line of tents at the edge of the fort where a couple of enlisted men lived with their wives, who acted as the fort laundresses. The women were visiting back East right now and the men did the laundry while they were gone. Sarah and Emmie hurried back to their quarters and packed lunch.

Promptly at eleven, someone pounded on the door and called in a deep baritone, “I'm here to escort you.”

Emmie swung open the door and looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. The man had a friendly, open face with a shock of auburn hair that fell down over his forehead from under his blue hat. His flowing mustache matched his hair and he was quite tall, for she had to crane her neck to look up at him. At least six-two, his stocky frame towered over her.

He took off his hat and held it in his big hands,
reddened from the wind. “You must be Emmie. Every man in the fort is already in love with you.”

Emmie smiled in spite of her resolve to keep aloof from the soldiers. His grin was infectious. “They just haven't seen any women in a while. And who are you?”

“Isaac Liddle at your service, ma'am.” He slapped the heels of his boots together and kissed her hand, then grinned again at her surprise.

She tried to place his soft accent. “I've heard a lot about you. You're Rand's buddy.”

Sarah joined her at the door. “I see you've met Mr. Liddle. You behave yourself, Isaac. I don't want you scaring Emmie into leaving me.”

His voice took on an injured tone. “Now, Sarah, that's ridiculous. One look at my handsome mug and she's sure to want to stay. Besides, I'm here to escort you two on your picnic. Every man in the fort clamored for the job, but I know how to get around your husband. All I had to do was promise to shine his boots for the next six months.”

Something about his laughing manner made Emmie's shields go up. Monroe had been lighthearted and carefree too. The facade had hidden his true heart of irresponsibility and falsehoods. Rand and
Sarah might like Isaac, but Emmie wasn't about to be betrayed again by smiling eyes.

“Come right this way, ladies. Your steeds await you.”

Sarah laughed as he took the picnic basket from her, but Emmie pressed her lips together and turned her gaze away.

Isaac couldn't keep his gaze from straying to Emmie. Her hair was as black and glossy as a raven's wing, and the vulnerability in her haunted blue eyes tugged at him. Someone had hurt her, and the thought made him clench his fists.

He led the buckskin mare to her side. “Molly's a darling, aren't you, girl? Look at her gentle eyes.” Isaac patted the insistent nose the mare thrust into his hand. “Have you ridden much, Miss Croftner?”

“Not really, but I like horses.” She tentatively held out her palm, and the mare snuffled her velvet nose against it. “We had a pony when I was little. He was an old pinto and ornery.”

“Well, Molly will be good for you. She's gentle and sweet-natured.”

“You sound as though you know a lot about horses.”

“A fair bit. My family raised racehorses.”

He offered his linked hands to help her mount the mare. After a moment's hesitation, Emmie stepped into his hands, and he helped her up onto the sidesaddle. She adjusted her skirts and gathered the reins as he helped Sarah. Her friend's horse was a placid bay with a wide back.

Rand had given him explicit instructions on making sure the horse he picked for Sarah wouldn't bolt or throw her off in her delicate condition.

Isaac led the way past the parade ground and the stables where four other soldiers joined them. As they crossed in front of the Sioux encampment, he moved his horse to fall in with Emmie's. He watched her eyes widen at the sight of the women and children. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of some concoction bubbling in the pot over the open fire they skirted, mingled with dung from the numerous dogs roaming the fort area. Sarah waved and called to several Indian women.

The sun blazed down in the brilliant blue canopy of sky. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the banner above them like lazy puffs of smoke. A bird cried out
and Isaac looked up to see an eagle soar into the brilliant haze above them.

Emmie looked too. “Is that an eagle?”

“Sure is.”

She gave a sigh, and a contented smile lurked around her mouth. “This West is a wonderful place. It feels so free here.”

“You don't mind the primitive conditions?”

She shook her head. “I've lived with better and I've lived with worse. I've found that my surroundings aren't a good prediction of happiness.”

He eyed her shuttered expression. Something had caused her pain. She'd make a good wife to a soldier. He dragged his gaze away from her entrancing face. “You're riding well.”

She patted Molly's neck. “She's made it easy. How did you happen to join the cavalry instead of staying back with your family raising horses?”

“I'm the youngest of four brothers. They had no need of my help.” And his eldest brother had made it clear there was no room for Isaac on the ranch. Not after he'd let their prize mare die birthing. “But there is much opportunity here. I'm going to run cattle in a few years.”

She shuddered. “It seems so dangerous out here.”

“It won't be for long. Settlers are pouring in. You'll see.”

They stopped by a cold, clear stream running through a meadow. The scent of sage hung in the air, and Isaac pointed out a prickly pear cactus for them to avoid stepping in as they dismounted and followed him to a shady spot under a cottonwood tree beside the stream.

Emmie spread a blanket on the mossy ground by the stream. “It's lovely.”

Isaac straightened the other side of the blanket and sat down while she and Sarah opened the hamper of food. “It'll be even more beautiful in the spring. There will be bluebells and violets everywhere.”

The four privates each took a separate spot in different directions and stood watch for hostile Sioux. Sarah and Emmie took them a plate of food before settling down on the blanket with Isaac.

He watched Emmie's face surreptitiously as they ate their lunch of cold sandwiches and baked beans. Did she know he'd once courted Sarah? He glanced from Sarah to Emmie and realized once again that he'd just been lonely when he'd been calling on Sarah.
Something about Emmie spoke to him at a deeper level. Her vulnerability drew him.

He wasn't sure he was ready for an emotion that powerful.

FIVE

E
mmie soon fell into the pattern of fort life, listening almost unconsciously for the trumpet to sound out the various calls. She didn't need the little watch pinned to her bodice anymore. Her days were divided by reveille at 5:00 a.m., breakfast at 6:00, followed by stable call at 6:30, drill at 10:00 and 2:00, retreat at 6:00 p.m., tattoo at 8:30, and taps at 8:45. She loved to watch the boots and saddles call in the morning. At the order, the cavalry swung up into their saddles in unison, the sun dancing off their
brass buttons and their sabers. Then they would ride out of the fort grounds onto the open plain to practice wheeling and charging imaginary foes. It was an exhilarating sight.

After she'd been there a month and was finally beginning to settle in and feel at home, Rand came bursting in and sat in a chair beside them. “I received new orders today.”

Sarah stopped eating the dumplings made with dried apples and put her fork down. “Oh no, Rand. Where? I don't want to go anywhere else.”

His grin widened at the dismay in her voice. “We're going to Fort Phil Kearny.”

Sarah shrieked and jumped to throw her arms around him. He almost toppled backward in his chair. “I get to see Amelia!” she cried as she hugged him exuberantly.

He sat the chair forward with a thump. “I thought you didn't want to go.”

Emmie watched with a pensive smile. If she could have a marriage like her friend, she might consider it, but there weren't very many men like Rand Campbell around. She pushed away the stirring of envy. What made her think she even deserved such a fine man?

Emmie knew Amelia McCallister, of course. She was the daughter of Wabash's only doctor. It was the talk of the whole town when Amelia married Jacob Campbell and moved out West with him. Sarah spoke often of how much she missed her best friend, and Emmie couldn't help a stab of jealousy. Would Sarah have time for her once Amelia was around?

“When do we leave?” Emmie asked.

“You've both got two days to pack.”

Sarah frowned. “Two days! You must be joking.”

“They wanted me to go tomorrow, but I talked the colonel into another day in deference to you ladies. And that's quite a feat with the army. They usually don't officially recognize that the wives exist. In the army's eyes you two are just camp followers like the ones across the river.”

Emmie grew hot at his oblique reference to the soiled doves on the other side of the Laramie River. Would he put her in the same class as the prostitutes if he knew about her false marriage? She hoped she never had to find out. Her resolve to tell Sarah the truth had faded as the days passed. Why risk seeing her friend's love and respect change to repugnance?

By working late both nights, they managed to get
everything packed. Rand brought them empty pickle barrels, and they packed most of their belongings in the pungent barrels with hay packed around the breakables.

Joel scooted a barrel toward the door. “I can't wait to see Jimmy again! I bet he knows I'm coming. Maybe he even asked his dad to arrange it.” He glanced at Emmie. “His dad is the post commander. So maybe I helped get us back together with Jacob and Amelia.”