Comes a Hero (Book 17 of Brides of the West Series) Page 5

"You think the Indians will notice?" One man asked.

  "It will take time to get there, time we might not have. I don't know, but I gave instructions for them all to be visible during the day, so it would look as though things were going as normal. It's important that the Indians don't suspect anything yet, at least until we get these women situated. And if you'll notice, it looks like snow coming…"

  For nearly a week they dug ditches every night and did the same until the weather let up a bit and became almost livable again. After that first night the women did not object to wearing men's drawers, nor sleeping with each other.

  Sylvia Morrow, a beautiful dark eyed beauty from Georgia came up to Quirt. "I guess we should all be thankful you are here, Mr. Noble. You do seem to know how to take care of things."

  Quit turned around to stare at the woman. She was not only beautiful with a headful of dark hair and eyes that could beg a man without words, she knew she was.

  "I was a scout in the army before the commander left me in charge of a bunch of raw recruits. You learn a lot about survival being a scout." He informed her. "But I do have to rely on my men to know the drills and routines."

  "These men have sure been helpful." She smiled at him. "And not one of them have complained."

  "They are all good men." Quirt agreed.

  "Are you married, Mr. Noble?" She asked coming closer.

  "No ma'am." He stared with interest now.

  "And why not?"

  "Out here, women are a precious commodity ma'am. We only see them passing in stagecoaches and a few of the officers were married."

  "Are they at the fort?"

  "No, they went north, with their husbands."

  "Really, wasn't that a bit dangerous, considering war might break out at any moment?" Her eyebrows drew together.

  "It was very dangerous, but they chose to remain with their husbands." He informed her.

  "Why are you in such a hurry to get back to the fort?" she asked as though she had every right to.

  He indulged her. "Two reasons, the weather, and the Indians. Our fort has few to defend it."

  "I suppose we arrived at the wrong time, then?" Jennifer broke into their conversation.

  Quirt turned to look at her, his facial expression relaxing some. "Let's just say you were a surprise."

  "I hope a pleasant one," Sylvia smiled and walked away.

  Quirt stared after her a moment, then turned his attention to Jennifer. "I don't think the men are a bit disappointed to have you all here."

  Jennifer snickered. "But it puts a big responsibility on your shoulders, doesn't it?"

  Quirt stared, "Well, no more than a lot of other things."

  "What do you think of this war" She asked.

  He seemed to study his answer. "That's kind of a loaded question, I think. The kind that get a man or a woman killed."

  She smiled demurely, "I’m sorry, I had no right to ask it."

  "No, that's okay. I don't think you'll shoot me." He smiled. "Out here, is a long way from Virginia. Texas has had to worry about the Indians more than anything, and still will. My position is still in that direction. Never being in a civil war between the states, I look at it as protecting Texas as best I can. She's been through a lot already. We only won our independence in '36."

  "The Alamo…?" Jennifer whispered.

  He glanced at her again. The way she said it with such reverence surprised him. "You could say the Alamo was the first winning point for Texas. Everyone rallied from there. Yes. I'm a bit surprised that you are so up on your history."

  "The Alamo was big news in New York, all over the papers. As it should be. I would assume that every Yankee in New York had a huge respect for their deaths." Jennifer counted. "This country will never forget their sacrifice, not even in New York." She smiled.

  "That's interesting. Of course, I suppose you know that those men that died were from all over, including Europe. Now let me ask you something."

  "Sure, why not."

  As they talked, it began to snow. At first small flakes that were barely noticeable.

  "Why didn't your father come out here, instead of you?" Quirt's brows drew together.

  "Only ladies were invited." She said softly.

  "You surprise me how easily you adapt to our part of the country." He said quietly.

  "I've always been one to try to adapt to my circumstances, good or bad."

  He eyed her openly now. There was something about her, something that drew him. She wasn't like anyone he knew, and she fascinated him.

  "Did you sleep well?"

  "Very, and I think I've convinced Katherine, that all you ask of us is necessary." She chuckled.

  "I appreciate that. Want to start on the others?"

  She chuckled again.

  He shot her a smile and went to inform his men to start the night fires. The snow had continued all night and the flakes got bigger. It began to stick to the ground, and they built more fires to keep the ditches warmer. Quirt noted that he could have talked all night to Jennifer, but he didn't need to distract himself from his responsibilities. He rarely ran into a woman who could hold a real conversation with him and keep him interested.

  It remained cold and snowy the rest of the week, and the men were tired from working so hard to keep the women warm and happy. But none balked as women were a precious commodity and every one of them knew it. Quirt saw a definite difference in the men's disposition, a good one. Perhaps the women might have a good effect on his men, he hadn't contemplated that making any difference.

  One morning as they got ready to roll, a wagon wheel broke, and the men spent some time fixing it.

  Jennifer went around the camp, offering the tired men some coffee. They all appreciated her efforts.

  Quirt watched her. Why of all the women was she most helpful? What set her apart, he wasn't sure, but he did know one thing, his respect for her was growing each day. She was toughness and softness all rolled into one. A real pioneer spirit.

  Chapter Four

  When the wagons arrived at the fort a week later, Quirt had gotten to know some of the women by name and by temperament. They had found the fort rather unusual with no fence posts, just wide-open spaces on two sides. It looked serene sitting among tall cottonwoods that creaked from the occasional winds, and the colorful cliffs that shielded them from weather and enemies.

  The soldiers at the fort all welcomed them with big smiles and helped them out of the wagons. The women weren't looking their best, with days and nights on the prairie, their hair was mussed, their clothing dusty and their attitudes still not adjusted to what lie ahead of them. Some had quietly resigned themselves to their fate, others rebuked it.

  Surprisingly though, the remainder of soldiers had the lady's quarters fixed up as nice and clean as could be and every man was smiling. Quirt was glad they had taken care of that.

  The women looked at their quarters with mixed reaction, some were impressed with the cleanliness, others wanted many more amenities that they could never have here. Most of the barracks were made of stone, some of the older ones of wood, some had earthen floors, and some had plank floors. There was a blacksmith's shop, a warehouse for storage of ammunitions and guns, a hospital. There was a stable, a small commissary. Spread out around a rock canyon that supported two sides, and the weather was mild here. And of course, there were officer quarters and commander quarters.

  But one thing was quite miserable, it was very cold inside the barracks, and snow littered the floor. The women were quite dismayed at this, as the snow had hardened and until it thawed it would remain.

  A mail station had been set up by two men, Skillman and Giddings. It was called La Limpia Station and was about a mile from the army encampment. But all their horses had been stolen back in 1858, and it was barely hanging on to itself. Overland and Butterfield stages had come through this area many times. The Butterfield Overland Mail was still hanging on here. Wagon Trains were part of the scenery too. But all the color faded wh
en faced with the somewhat dreary looking hall that would be there sleeping quarters. Huge closets had been built especially for them to hang some of their clothes up, the soldiers had gone to a lot of trouble. Some of the ladies never noticed, some did.

  "And this is where we must live for no telling how long?" Sylvia Morrow, the beautiful dark-haired lady exclaimed.

  Quirt walked off and let another soldier explain. He had things to catch up on. Now that they had arrived, his men would take over helping the ladies get settled and moving things around for their convenience.

  He called in a Corporal and as the young man sat down in front of the big desk, Quirt measured him. "So, has there been any signs of the Indians?"

  "We've seen a few scouting parties; one train was attacked but according to a courier only one casualty from that."

  "That's good. I was afraid they'd notice that not many were here."

  "If they have, they haven't let on yet sir."

  Quirt smiled.

  "Sir, can I ask you something?"

  "Sure."

  "Are we going to be fighting Yankees and Indians?"

  "Corporal Hayes, I don't know for sure. The war hasn't started officially yet. No one knows what will happen. But it is possible. I'll tell you now, we're expecting the Confederates to take this fort over."

  "Will we be getting any help?"

  "If war breaks out, I'm sure the fort will be manned by Confederates before long."

  "And how will we stand with them?"

  "That's a question we'll have to decide when the time comes. Johnson left to enlist recruits for the north. I'm sure if they come out here, they'll do the same for the south. You see son, Texas has legally seceded from the Union."

  "It has?" the young man looked shocked. "I'd heard rumors, but nothing had been confirmed."

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Does that mean we're Confederates now?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine. But Corporal…"

  "Yes sir…"

  "Let's wait and see what happens first, before we all panic. I stand for Texas, I want you all to know that. I'm not sure I'd qualify for a Confederate as I don't agree with all they stand for. But I'd fight for Texas no matter what."

  The young man nodded, with a slight smile. "Yes sir, I feel the same, actually."

  "Make sure the women have everything they need. How are we on supplies?"

  "Well, we have ammunitions, guns, but food we are low on, and a few things the women might need."

  "Then make a list, we'll see if we can fill it." Quirt told him.

  "Yes sir," he saluted him and left.

  Quirt wished fervently that he could accommodate them all the way they deserved, but he had more important issues at hand. The skirmish that happened before was still heavy on his mind. A wagon train had been attacked and soldiers were sent to escort the train further west. The battle only lasted a while, the train had managed to go on, but the soldiers were again attacked on the way back to the fort. Now he looked over the sea of female faces, landing on Jennifer once more. There was a draw to this woman he didn't understand. She wasn't the prettiest of the bunch, not ugly by any means, yet, there was something alluring about her to Quirt, as though their souls had touched.

  That was nonsense, he told himself. Souls didn't touch. He'd been out here too long, without benefit of female companionship, that was all.

  ~~***~~

  Jennifer's gaze scanned the rock canyon that supported the fort like a wall on one side, leaving the other side open. When she first got here, she noted the vast difference in north central Texas compared to the western looking Trans-Pecos area. Here, Mexican Pinyons grew abundantly, along with catclaws and chollas. The only big trees she noticed were what they called Cottonwoods. Lizards sunned on the rocks. It was quite unusual and rather beautiful, she thought, especially at setting sun when the colors of the canyon changed against the rock cliffs.

  How could one state hold so many contrasts?

  Jack rabbits wandered the prairies and gophers and prairie dogs controlled the deserts. Quirt informed them about the black bear, the feral hogs, and the mountain sheep that wandered the Davis mountains.

  This was all so different than New York, where fisheries stunk up the neighborhoods. Rats were an unwelcome plague in New York.

  But West Texas was wide open, almost lonely looking as all one saw of people here was the passing of a stagecoach, or freight wagon, and an occasional wagon train. People were always moving west. But for the life of Jennifer she couldn't imagine a more beautiful place than right here, where the weather was mild and very enjoyable.

  The winter weather seemed a bit milder here too.

  "It's the best quarters we have ma'am." Quirt told one of the older women that complained of the cold, in a calm voice. "I'm sure as women you can make it prettier if you try. Add some curtains, make some quilts. Whatever you desire."

  "And what of the snow on the floor sir?" Another woman huffed.

  "I'm sorry." Quirt shrugged unable to come up with anything that might satiate the woman. "We haven't the time nor the manpower to fix that right now, I'm terribly sorry."

  Some of the soldiers hung their heads. They'd worked hard to make it look livable and some of the women were near hysterics. Many of these women were pampered and spoiled and Quirt felt bad for his men who had tried desperately to make things better for them.

  "I must write to Washington immediately and let them know what we face here," Victoria Fontane said raising her head and shoulders and caring herself somewhat like a queen toward Quirt. Another beautiful woman with an air of sophistication. She was older, perhaps thirty-five, Quirt guessed, but she was beautiful, unmarred by time.

  Quirt watched her, she carried sophistication like others carried a parasol, her light brown hair coiled perfectly, and light blue eye searching. Her figure stood out among the women. Well-endowed in all the right places, this woman had never seen a day of hard work. Her delicate nose raised a notch. Any man would be proud to carry her on his arm.

  "I'm afraid Washington has no time for you now, ma'am. We are at the crossroads of war and favors by important people will take a back step. Understand this, we must survive, that's what is important. We have no choice of this war, it has outgrown the notion of peace, but it does not have to defeat us. I intend to defend you to my utmost power, and so will these troops of men." Quirt told her. "All we ask in return is tolerance, as we fight to keep you safe."

  "But surely you can see this is no fit place for a lady, sir. It's not fit for your men either, it's very cold inside here."

  "Fit or not, this is it. I am sorry for the cold. I'd advise wearing shoes or boots at all times until the snow melts." Quirt raised an arrogant brow. "My men have spent some time on this place, trying to make it livable for you. Your quarters are clean, and if you want to make it better, feel free to do so. Because like it or not, this is your home for a while."

  "You intend keeping us here, then?" The woman came up to him closely now. "Like prisoners?"

  "Yes ma'am, I do. Only we consider you guests."

  "Why weren't we informed earlier of all these problems? This could have all been avoided. We could have turned around in Ft. Worth and gone back home."

  "I did not realize you came out here thinking it was going to be a picnic madam. You were brought here by orders from Washington because you insisted on taking your loved ones' home, in my estimation, they are home." He gritted his teeth, "We find it hard to think of things like frills and fluff when a serious war is about to erupt. We here, have two wars to worry over, so the less you complain, the easier it will make it on my men. And right now, it's my men I'm concerned with. You are here, and relatively safe. Your letter wouldn't arrive in Washington for weeks. It takes that long to get a letter here. As you can see, this fort is some distance from towns and neighbors. If any instructions do come in about you ladies, I will share them with you. Until then, make yourselves at home." Quirt said, his fists opening and cl
osing as he spoke. He had no time for spoiled little rich girls. He had a job to do.

  ~~***~~

  He needed to be briefed about the Indian situation and see if anyone was making a dinner for the ladies.

  He went outside and caught his breath. This threat of war was causing so much havoc, he could only imagine its outcome now.

  As he stared out at the setting sun, Jennifer came out to stare at him from the doorway. She was silent a long time.

  "You wouldn't think a war was about to break out, looking out there, would you?" She said in a low, husky voice.

  He turned to look at her, his gaze lingered. She was a tall woman, which made her stand out. But her tallness didn’t bother him as he still stood several inches above her. She had a high forehead, a delicate nose, sensuous lips, but it was her dark blue eyes that held understanding and compassion that made her stand out in Quirt's mind. He saw the strong sense of determination in her that few women would ever acquire, and somehow, he knew. She would stand neck and neck with him in this war. She was indeed a pioneer woman with a heart of gold. Not as beautiful as some of the others perhaps, and yet more so in other ways.

  Quirt stared in realization that their souls connected somehow. It shocked him. Being attracted to a woman was new to him. It wasn't as though he didn't admire them and want one of his own. But this instant attraction took him by surprise, because he knew he connected somehow to this woman. There was no denying it. He felt the pull, the urge to kiss her entered his mind several times.

  "No, not just looking, you wouldn't."

  She looked at him, weighing his worth. "They'll get over it." He stared at her now. "They're just tired and feel as though they've been let down." She apologized for them. "You didn't let them down, the government did."

  "And you, you don't feel let down?" He asked staring at her strangely.

  "No, I had no expectations. I'll admit, at first, I didn't want to come, but my mother is ill, and she wanted her son with her. I understood that. And eventually, through Johnny's letters, I became curious about the west. I wanted to see what he saw. And it hasn't taken long to see it, either. Your Texas is a beautiful country. I agree, the barracks are cold, but as it warms up, it shouldn't be a problem."