Comes a Hero (Book 17 of Brides of the West Series) Page 7

  She had to admit she seemed to connect to Quirt Noble at times. She understood him and liked him. Still, it was no time to be worrying over her attraction. These women had no idea what dangers they might face. And perhaps knowing how some took on, it was best left that way.

  Chapter Six

  Getting up at dawn, Quirt planned the ceremony for the fallen soldiers and their widows. He called Hans and several other men in for suggestions. One offered to play a tune on the bugle, Hans recommended a sermon from the bible, and he also suggested a gun salute too. Quirt had a plan, but it would take some cooperation from the women. He knew that. He needed to study on a way to make them understand its importance.

  But, today was taken with the ceremony for the fallen and the women gathered at the cemetery that held many of the fallen men from Ft. Davis. Many of the women's husbands hadn't died here, but the ceremony was for all of them, Quirt explained. He also explained why there were newly made graves, and the last battle they had fought.

  "There are so many graves," Victoria mumbled.

  "Yes, it was a furious battle."

  "Oh my," Victoria shook her head.

  Jennifer and a few others were personally escorted to the graves of their loved ones.

  Quirt watched her as she neared Johnny's gravesite. Not once had the woman complained or caused problems. But today, as she stood over her brother's grave, her face was white as stone and one tear slipped down her pale cheek. She wasn't a woman of display, but he could almost feel her pain as she stood in front of her brother's grave. Most of the other women were the same, the reality of why they came hit them hard today and no one was laughing or flirting.

  Most knelt beside the graves, reading the small stones. Some said prayers silently, others cried, some just stared as though they couldn't quite believe it.

  "As you can see, we have stones with some information on them. This is all compliments of Hans who made the stones himself. He fashioned them from the rock cliffs above us. When these fine young men were buried, they were given full military honors, a gun salute and prayers. Today, we will do the same in honor of you women here. We hope it is some comfort to you."

  The ceremony lasted an hour, and then he gave them a twenty-one-gun salute and one of the troopers played a very sad sounding tune. When Quirt dismissed his men, the women began moving away slowly as though it pained them to do so. Even the women with no loved ones about seemed to understand the gravity of the moment. Many realized that their hopes of taking their loved one's home was more a dream now, than a reality. The ceremony reminded them vividly of what they had lost. Even if they never got them home, at least they had come here, to pay respects for their loved ones, that counted for something.

  Jennifer stood staring at the stone. When she lifted her head, she wiped her tears and sought out Hans who was putting equipment away.

  "I-I wanted to thank you for the stone, it was lovely."

  The big man turned to see her ashen face and his smile faded to sympathy.

  "Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad you liked it. I cut the stones from the mountains here, and I learned long ago how to chisel out the letters. I was happy to do it for them." He smiled at her and tipped his hat. "Was young Johnny your husband?"

  "No, he was my brother," she explained, her voice catching as she spoke.

  "Brother, so you aren't a widow then?"

  "No, I'm not."

  Seeing the paleness of her face, he reassured her. "I knew Johnny pretty well. He was happy here, one of the few." Hans laughed. "I guess that's how come I noticed him so much. He didn't mind the drills, nor the bad food. He was a good young man, always eager."

  "He sounded happy in his letters."

  "I'm glad you said you are his sister, as he did have a young lady friend."

  "Did he?" Jennifer looked surprised. "Who was she? Do you know?" Jennifer was eager to talk to anyone that might know her brother.

  "I think her name was Rose. She's a young girl, one of the settler's daughters. They were getting pretty close when it happened." Hans said, his voice trailing off. "But she lived some eighty miles east of here, and he didn’t' get to visit her as often as he liked. You see, we don't have local neighbors like most places, we are pretty isolated out here."

  "Yes, I noticed that. Well, I appreciate you telling me about her, I'd like to meet her, sometime." Jennifer smiled.

  "Well ma'am, we don't get to church too often."

  "Church? Is that where he met her?" Jennifer asked with surprise.

  "Yes, Johnny went to church regular like, of course I don't know if it was church, he was going for, or her…."

  "Did she know when he died?"

  "Yes, she was here for his funeral. Sweet little thing, she was, too. She cried awful hard." Hans looked down now as though saddened by the telling of it. "Her folks came with her, I think, no one said of course, but I think her, and Johnny had some plans…"

  "Johnny wanted to marry her?" She asked, astounded that he hadn't written about this girl.

  "I can't be for certain, but it did seem that way, ma'am."

  "Thanks for telling me about her. All of you men have been so kind to us. There are no words to express our feelings. The ceremony was beautiful."

  "Sure, maybe later, you'll get to meet her. It ain't safe to ride too far around here beings as there are Indians about a lot."

  "Yes, I can understand that…" Jennifer walked off.

  Then she sought Quirt out and caught his arm before he walked into his office. "I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the ceremony. It was touching to see the stones, and the gun salute was such an emotional moment, but when that tune…so mournful…" She couldn't talk, her voice had gone down so low. "What was the name of that tune?"

  Her hand was still on his arm, and he stared at it, curiously. She didn't seem to realize she was touching him.

  When their eyes met, she quickly turned loose of him.

  "It's not a song, it's a bugle call, some call it 'Day is Done'. Others call it "Scott's Tattoo". One of the soldiers here is kin to the man that first played it at a funeral. Our soldier was so taken with it, he began playing it here. I’m told Captain Tidball of West Point began the custom of having it played by the bugler at funerals. I'm glad you liked it. Some forts use it as a sort of a night call."

  She studied his face, "How is it that you are so informed of things? I mean way out here. Do you even get a newspaper?"

  "Not too often, I'm afraid. Sometimes the freighters will leave us a paper from Waco, or Ft. Worth. He grinned, "Most scouts are curious by nature, so we learn things because of it. Naturally, the Butterfield Overland Mail shares a lot of stories of the Kiowa, Comanche and Apache raids, wagon trains love to talk about things they have seen along the way. I guess I'm just more interested than some."

  She smiled, "Well, thank you."

  "For what?" He asked.

  "The beautiful service." She answered and left as quickly as she came.

  He called after her, "Jennifer," she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I want to talk to the ladies this afternoon about an idea I have. Could you please let them know?"

  "Of course," she smiled.

  "Thanks," he stared after her.

  ~***~

  That afternoon Quirt gathered the ladies about and began explaining his plan. He wasn't sure how the ladies would take it, but it might just do the trick.

  "Ladies, I've come up with a plan that I think might be beneficial for us all here at the fort, but I must take it up with you all, and have your full cooperation on this. So, gather around and let me tell you about it…" He insisted.

  The women came closer and listened. He stood up on a table, so they could all see and hear him.

  "You all know that because of the civil war about to break out, we are low on men here. We have no idea when rebel forces will take over. So, we are left to come up with ideas on how to survive until then. I have an idea that might help us and save us all a lot of heartache, but it will ta
ke your cooperation."

  There was a buzz around the room.

  "I want to explain what Fort Davis was built for. What we do here, is protect and defend the Overland stage route, the stagecoaches and the wagon trains, and keep the road to El Paso open to travelers. Right now, we don't have enough men to look busy here while maintaining the safety of others. That has become a big problem we are trying to solve, and I've got an idea, but I'll need your help. If we pull the men off the drilling routine every day to tend to these matters, it will look as though we either don't have men, or they are all gone to protect some area. At one time we had over four hundred men here, so you can see that even an Indian could tell the difference in the comings and goings around here. This could mean they would attack the fort. They haven't attacked before, because we had a full regiment of troops here. Now we don't. This puts my men, and you ladies in great danger. You also know that we are having a time with the Indians too. Mostly Comanche who have wandered down into Apache lands and want to take over here."

  The women all stirred and listened.

  "But as I've told you before, we don't have walls around our fort, what we do here is very visible for the Indians. If they see us busy, training and drilling outside, they know we are here, and they don't come too close. Since we have a lot less men now, we still need to look fully equipped. And I have an idea to accomplish that. But it will take you women helping us to accomplish it. And that's why I've come to you today. To ask for your help. First, I need your assistance."

  "What do you want us to do, sir?" Victoria came close and stared up at him.

  He liked Victoria, she was always one to voice her concerns and opinions and eager to be involved.

  "The only way we can fool the Indians into thinking we still have a lot of men is to have you women drill and march around the parade area with our men, in pants, uniforms to be exact. We must make the Indians think you are men, instead of women."

  The women stirred to whispers and glances. Quirt went on. "Would you be willing to do this?"

  The women all talked at once to each other, some laughing, some dismayed over the idea, others enthusiastic about it.

  "Would we have to drill with the men, hold guns and such?" Sylvia asked.

  "Yes, you would."

  Another discussion went up between the women.

  "Would we have to shoot?" Another of the ladies asked.

  Quirt looked around at them all. "I'm afraid that all of you are going to have to learn to shoot. Like I said I'm short on men, and our lives depend on it. We don't know when the first bunch of Confederate soldiers will arrive. The war hasn't officially started, but the tension is extremely high. We also don't know what's going to happen here because of the war."

  This time the women were loud, but some still laughed.

  "And what exactly will this accomplish in the long run?" Another woman from the back shouted.

  "It will fool the Indians into thinking we have a lot more men than we do. And that you can shoot too would be a bonus."

  Jennifer came forward now. "It's an ingenious plan."

  "But we aren't soldiers!" Victoria insisted. "Some of us can't even shoot."

  Jennifer glanced at Quirt then looked at all the women. "No, we aren't soldiers, but if we want to survive out here until we can go home, we are going to have to be twice as cunning as the Indians. We will have to learn to shoot, learn to defend ourselves, learn to survive. And if dressing up like soldiers and learning to fight will do the trick, then we should do it. Partly for our own survival, and partly for our loved ones who died here." Jennifer said aloud. "It could work."

  Quirt smiled. He could have kissed her for that show of support. The fact that this woman was always supportive gave him hope.

  "Do you have uniforms we could wear?" Jennifer asked.

  "We do, but one thing, you must bind yourselves to look more like men. The Indians won't come close enough to see your faces that well, but they can spot a female figure as well as any man."

  Some of the women blushed, others gasped.

  "Bind ourselves?" Sylvia laughed. "You're serious?"

  "I am. It won't be a time to show off your beautiful shapes and sizes. But if we pull this off, it could easily stave off an attack here, and give my men the time to see to the homesteaders, stagecoaches, wagon trains and the Butterfield Overland Mail. We would then be able to patrol the road to El Paso again. This is something we haven't been able to accomplish since our officers left."

  Sylvia's mouth hung open.

  "I’m sorry, I don't mean to shock you, but I must speak frankly so you'll understand."

  "How soon do we need to start?" another woman asked.

  Seeing they were agreeing to it, Quirt smiled. "As soon as possible. Tomorrow morning would be good. I'll have the uniforms to you before the end of the day. If you ladies can tend to the rest that would be good."

  "How long will we have to keep it up?"

  Quirt bowed his head, "Until Confederates move in at least."

  They all began to nod. "Do you know when that will be sir?"

  "No, we are in a remote area of Texas, far from civilization, towns, railroads. I'm sure you all noticed that when we came in. We will be one of the last forts to be manned, I am sure of that. The only reason they will man this fort is to keep the road to El Paso open. But this will buy us some time." He looked around the room. "When we scout, it will leave the fort very short of men. So, I need to set up a chain of command with you too. Victoria, I think you should be Sargent of the women, and you pick two ladies to be Corporals. After we set up a drilling routine, when we have to leave to defend a stagecoaches or wagon trains, or even the Overland Mail. I want you in charge and drilling every day. That way, it will still look as though we have men here, ready to fight for the fort."

  "That's really rather a clever idea." Jennifer told him.

  "As long as they don't find out you are women. Oh, and you'll need to pin your hair up too. Desperate measures must be used in times like these. But it could possibly keep the Indians from attacking the fort and give the rest of us time to help others. If this works, we can bring some of the settlers in, that are in immediate danger and they can help us too. It could mean our only chance of survival here. I know it sounds strange to you ladies but looking as though we are carrying on with our drills, will make the Indians think twice about hitting this fort. If they get wind of the idea that we aren't manned, we are in trouble."

  "I think it might work well." Victoria suddenly said. Obviously, she was honored to be chosen as the Sergeant.

  "I'd like Sylvia and Jennifer to be my Corporals."

  "Fine. Alright ladies, that's all for now. I'll get busy on the uniforms, but I would like a list of sizes if you know them."

  Victoria made a list for him that same day and Quirt rounded several of the men to digging out old uniforms. Quirt realized that the more he kept the women busy doing things the happier and content they seemed.

  Chapter Seven

  The women gathered around that evening, picking out uniforms that fit, and finding material to bind themselves with. Some tried the uniforms on and laughed. Katherine found a sewing needles and threads left by obvious wives of soldiers and brought them to the other women.

  "Can you tell I'm a woman?" Sylvia laughed.

  Victoria made a sound in her mouth, "I think you'll need to bind yourself a bit tighter dear."

  Sylvia chuckled. "I was afraid of that."

  Jennifer looked good in her uniform and her tallness made her look even more like a man. Unfortunately, that was her fate. Many times, she had wished she was short and dainty looking.

  Victoria glanced at all the girls and laughed, "Mr. Noble has some high ideas, but you know what, it is rather clever, if I do say so myself. Why when people find out back home what we've done here, I'll be the talk of the town."

  Some of the women giggled.

  Quirt knocked on their door and was invited in to inspect them.


  He went through the line of women adjusting a hat, telling them to hold up straight, then smiled. "Good job, ladies. But I must remind you, when you drill, you drill like men, not women. You walk a straight line and hold yourself up as straight as possible. No swaying your hips but walking tall and straight. You'll carry guns too."

  "Really, Mr. Noble, we are women, you know?" Victoria complained.

  "I realize that, but you are strong women, you wouldn't be here if you weren't. I know you can do this. It will take time to make you look like good recruits, but in the end, you'll be saving lives. If I can train you well, my men can do their jobs and the Indians won't be any wiser for it. It's an overall win situation."

  "Of all things, I never expected to be a soldier." Sylvia remarked. "So, how do I look?" she turned around for him.

  He frowned, "It looks like you did something for the front side, but that backside is a bit hard to hide, maybe we'll get you a bigger pair of pants."

  "Baggy pants," she fretted.

  He came closer, "This isn't for fashion, it's for survival, remember that."

  She frowned. Then with a clever idea she smiled at him, "I'm afraid hiding the wiggle as you call it, will be rather hard."

  Some of the others giggled again.

  He came up to Jennifer and he smiled. Although she was wonderfully endowed, she had hidden it with baggy pants and a tight frontal. "From a distance I couldn't tell at all. And your height is good too."

  "My father always said I was too tall for a woman." She grinned. "I've found it to be a hinderance most of my life, unless I want to reach something. Strange as it may seem I fit in here, rather well, don't I?"

  "I'd say you fit in very well," he said staring into her face with surprise.

  "Thanks," she said rather seriously.

  He winked and checked the others.

  He turned to look at all the ladies and smiled, "I'm proud of you ladies. You've done well. And I know what I'm asking is a lot more than you ever expected here, but it could save a lot of lives on both sides. Now, my Sergeant will be in to drill you here, so I want you to push your beds to one end of the room, then you will drill inside for a couple of days. After he's confident you can make a good appearance, you will be doing it outside. You will do this drill daily, for as long as it takes. If we can get some of the settlers to move in, then some of you will be relieved. The better you are at drilling, the more we will need to use you."