The Dawn of a Dream (31 page)

Luellen flung open the kitchen door. “I have the most exciting news.” Her voice trailed off. Leah and the children weren’t there. She peered into the small room off the kitchen and saw Leah sitting on the rug, resting her back against the side of the bed. David and Frannie were nestled on her lap while she hummed a lullaby. She turned her head when Luellen appeared on the threshold.

Her eyes held a faraway look. “Some days all I want to do is hunker down with my baby. I’m so tired of being in a place where no one cares what happens to me.”

All at once Luellen’s news didn’t seem so important. She knelt beside Leah and lifted David from her lap. The woman’s despair filled the room, thick enough to be touched. “I care, Leah,” she said in a gentle voice. “So do Mrs. Garmon and Mrs. Hawks.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I know how it feels to be lonely.”

“You’re trying to be nice.” Leah rose, holding Frannie, and looked down at Luellen. “There’s lonely, and then there’s lonely. All you got to do is hop on a train and you’re home in a day, your mama and papa waiting for you.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Me, I can’t even get to Canada without looking over my shoulder every second. Why I didn’t leave with my parents—” Leah walked out of the room, still talking. “When I make a mistake, it’s a big one.”

Luellen watched her retreating back. She needed Leah in Allenwood so she could accept the teaching position. What would she do without her?

She flushed. Had she grown so self-centered that her needs were the only ones that mattered?

Grateful she had only one class that afternoon, Luellen slipped into a vacant seat in the lecture hall. When she returned to the boardinghouse, she’d ask Mrs. Hawks about continuing her room and board if she were hired by the Model School next year.

Glowing lamps hung at spaced intervals from the ceiling. She placed her
Science of Education
text in a pool of light and waited for the professor to take the lectern. Murmurs and giggles drifted from one of the tables near the back. She recognized Miss Clark’s voice from the Model School.

“To see them together, you’d think they were sisters.”

“Well, they certainly have a lot in common.” The second girl snickered. “Did you hear what Mrs. Bledsoe said about her?”

“No. What?”

Their voices dropped to whispers. Luellen cocked one ear, wondering who they were gossiping about. She hadn’t seen Matron Bledsoe at all this term, but from the sound of things the woman hadn’t muted her sanctimonious personality.

“Matron needs to tell Mrs. Guthrie what she knows.” Miss Clark’s voice gained volume. “Someone like that shouldn’t be teaching innocent children.”

Hot pinpricks swept over her body. Were they talking about her? No telling what embellishments Mrs. Bledsoe had spun since Luellen left the Ladies Hall.

She swiveled in her seat, made sure the girls saw her, then rose and walked toward them.

Ward walked to the window in his office. Beyond the fort, the undulating hills wore a cloak of emerald. Early spring brought unexpected beauty to what he’d termed a bleak and desolate landscape when he first arrived.

He paced back to his desk. Dr. Marshall’s request for an addition to the hospital stared up at him. Ever since the need for a quarantine during the typhus scare, the doctor had appeared weekly with requests for more space and increased supplies.

The post hospital spent more time on doctoring immigrants than soldiers, Ward learned. The warmer weather brought a steady influx of gold seekers heading north to Denver City. They often arrived hungry, poorly clothed, and sick.

He hadn’t planned on operating a field station for treasure hunters. He’d expected to command troops according to West Point standards, but instead found himself dealing with soldiers whose sole reason for enlisting was a need for a job and food. Today would be no different. An hour of fatigue duties and an hour and a half of drills, then the troops would assemble for noon mess with more enthusiasm than they’d shown all morning. No wonder the previous commander asked for a transfer.

The door swung open and Dr. Marshall poked his head inside. “Have you got a few minutes?”

“Another requisition, Oliver?”

The goateed man raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Me? Certainly not.” He dropped into a chair facing Ward. “We’ve got a difficulty over at the hospital.”

“What is it now?”

“That immigrant wagon that came in yesterday—the fellow died.”

Ward gripped the arms of his chair, poised to jump to his feet. “Nothing that will spread around the post, is it?”

“No. Lung fever. I don’t know how he made it this far.”

“So, send a burial detail out. The ground has thawed enough.”

“Burial’s not the difficulty.” The doctor fingered his salt-and-pepper whiskers. “He had a daughter with him. What should we do with her?”

“Perhaps one of the officers’ families can take her in until we can find a way to send her back to her people. Do you know where they came from?”

“She’s been hysterical since her father died. I can’t get her to tell me anything.”

Ward stared at the ceiling for a moment. The father must have been her only parent. Surely no mother would allow a child to travel to the goldfields. He pushed his chair away from the desk.

“I’ll go see her. Maybe she’s settled down by now.”

A skeptical expression crossed Dr. Marshall’s face. “My assistant’s doing his best, but perhaps she’ll warm up to you.”

The two men skirted the edge of the parade ground where trainees performed weapons drills. They passed the laundresses’ quarters, where a dozen or so children played tag under lines of drying clothes. Ward glanced at the doctor. “Wasn’t your wife going to keep the youngsters inside for lessons during the week?”

“She tried. Some people are cut out for teaching—Millie’s not. She can hardly manage our twins.” He winked. “She’s a good cook, though.”

Ward looked over his shoulder at the children once more before entering the hospital. Something needed to be done.

Sergeant Brainerd, Dr. Marshall’s assistant, met them inside the door. “Got the girl calmed down,” he said. “She’s resting.” A flush covered his thin cheeks. “I was just going to the enlisted mess to fetch something for her to eat. I told her I’d be right back.”

The doctor nodded. “Go ahead. Captain Calder wants to talk to her for a moment.”

Inside the infirmary, Ward scanned the empty cots. “Where’s the child?”

A young woman of sixteen or seventeen rose from a chair at the back of the room and walked toward him, barefooted. She stood no taller than Ward’s shoulder. Her eyes were swollen. “If you mean Abel Lampy’s child, that’s me. I’m Rilla Lampy.” Coppery hair hung in limp strands around her haggard face. She studied Ward, fear in her gray eyes. “Guess the doc told you about my pa dying. That must be why you’re here.”

Ward tried to hide his surprise. “It is.” He clasped his hands at his waist. “My condolences.”

She nodded. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

Dr. Marshall stepped around Ward. “You’re welcome to stay with my family until you’re able to return home.”

Rilla frowned. “What if I don’t want to go back? Took us a month to get this far. We was leaving Arkansas behind, if you get my meaning. Denver City was a new start. Pa had everything figured out. He’d find gold and before long, we’d have a fine house. Now . . .” Her crooked teeth tugged at her lower lip. “I just need to think up something else.”

Ward entered his office and cast an apprehensive glance at his desk. A covered plate rested on top of the requisition forms he’d left when he went home the night before. He lifted the napkin. Molasses balls rolled in brown sugar. Still warm, their cinnamon-clove fragrance made his mouth water.

“I hope you like them.” Rilla’s voice pursued him across the room. “I made them special for you.”

She stood on the threshold. He’d be flattered if he didn’t know she’d spent the last two weeks bringing treats in rotation to all the unmarried officers. “Thank you. I’m sure Mrs. Marshall appreciates your skills in the kitchen.”

Rilla stepped into the room. Her green calico frock emphasized her shining curls. “My pa liked my cooking. He always said I’d make some man a fine wife.”

Ward moved so that the desk formed a barrier between them and looked pointedly at the door. “Corporal Robbins will be here soon. I’ll share these with him.”

“The corporal has a wife.” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “These are for you.”

On cue, Robbins’s boots clattered up the stairs. He took one step into the room and stopped, his eyes darting between Rilla and Ward. “Excuse me, sir. I didn’t know you were busy.” A leather dispatch bag hung from one hand.

“Miss Lampy was just leaving.”

“I’ll be back later for the empty plate.” She flounced toward the door, hips swaying. The black look she gave Corporal Robbins as she left didn’t escape Ward’s notice.

The corporal watched her leave. “That must be why Sergeant Brainerd was hanging about downstairs. I reckon the doc doesn’t know why his assistant is gone half the time.” He turned to Ward. “Think I should tell him?”

“Not as long as Brainerd’s doing his job. Miss Lampy won’t be here much longer. Next time wagons pass this way going east, she’ll go with them.”

“She don’t act like she plans to go east.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” Ward held out his hand. “Now, can I see what’s in that dispatch bag?”

Corporal Robbins stood while Ward dumped the contents of the bag over his desk. He separated a communication from Jefferson Barracks and flipped through the rest of the envelopes, stacking aside letters addressed to the troops. “Distribute the mail, please, Corporal. I imagine the men have been waiting ever since the courier rode in.”

“Yes, sir.” Robbins sat at a table and proceeded to arrange the envelopes in alphabetical order.

Ward smiled at his aide’s methodical habits. He suspected the man kept his life in the same order. Did he have his spouse listed by her first name, or under “w” for wife? Grinning, he reached for the official document and broke the seal.

“Sir? This one’s for you.”

“It is?” His heart thumped when he saw the handwriting on the envelope.
Luellen.
His reaction jolted him. After nearly three months with no word, he’d resigned himself to her going ahead with her plans to find a teaching position. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? Like he wanted to command an Army post. In Kansas. Alone.

With eager fingers, he spread her letter open on his desk.

I never thanked you for helping me with David at Christmas. I think he misses you now.

Little David, with his mother’s curls and liquid brown eyes. Ward missed him too. He read on through the news about Franklin and Belle. His eyes stopped near the end of the missive.

Commencement exercises are scheduled for the twentieth of May.

What if he surprised her by attending the graduation? Even if her future didn’t include him, Ward wanted to wish her well. If anyone deserved to achieve their goals, it was Luellen.

He could leave the post in Corporal Robbins’s hands. Nothing important ever happened here anyway. Smiling, he folded her letter and tucked it into his breast pocket. He’d put his plan in motion immediately.

His mind still on Luellen, he turned to the communication from Jefferson Barracks. Captain Block’s bold penmanship scrawled across the page:

General Kinner is due from Washington on a tour of the western outposts. He will likely arrive at Fort Hook the third week in May. Have all in readiness.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Miss Clark gushed to Luellen as they left the Model School together. “You’re always ready with your lesson plan, and you have that baby to care for too. It must be very difficult.”

Luellen shrugged. “I keep my eyes on my goals, not how hard it is to reach them. You’d be surprised at how much you can accomplish if you don’t stay your thoughts on what you can’t do.” She kept her tone neutral. Miss Clark was seeking gossip fodder for her companions in the Ladies Hall. She’d seen them whispering together in the weeks since their confrontation in the lecture room.

“But how
do
you do it? I get so distracted.” Miss Clark waved her hand at the separate columns of men and women moving toward classes on campus. “So many young men, and we aren’t allowed to mix with them.”

Luellen felt older than her twenty-four years. Had she ever been so giddy? They crossed the street, avoiding patches of ice. “I got distracted once. The results were disastrous, with the exception of the birth of my son. If you really want an education, you need to put on blinders and focus on your studies.”

“But two years here? I’ll be twenty before I’m finished, practically an old maid.”

Luellen grinned. “You’ll be twenty in two years whether you finish here or not.”

Miss Clark shot her an impatient glance. “It’s easy for you to talk. Your life is already over.” She spoke as one stating a fact. Excusing herself, she dashed toward a group of girls waiting near the chapel.

Stung by the barb of truth in her remarks, Luellen plodded toward Mrs. Garmon’s house. She’d seen a teaching certificate as a beginning. Instead, was it the end?

Mrs. Hawks scurried into the kitchen, where Luellen put finishing touches on the evening meal. “Do you have everything ready? We’re filled up tonight, and I don’t want to disappoint my new boarders.”

Luellen backhanded perspiration from her temples. “Beef pie, biscuits, cabbage slaw, and apple pudding. They won’t go away hungry.”

“Thank you.” The landlady wrapped a towel around her hand and took the pie from the oven. “I’ll carry this in. Would you bring the biscuits and slaw?”

“Certainly.” Luellen squatted in front of David, who sat on a blanket gnawing on a piece of dried bread. “You stay right here while Mama helps serve.” She kissed the top of his head. “That’s a good boy.”

The door to the dining room swung shut behind Mrs. Hawks. Luellen slid the biscuits into a napkin-lined bowl and followed her.

Eight men looked up when she entered. Luellen froze, her eyes locked on the one with chestnut curls seated nearest the door. The bowl of biscuits slipped from her nerveless fingers and crashed to the floor.