Comes a Hero (Book 17 of Brides of the West Series) Page 8

  "Will the Indians come close?" Jennifer asked.

  "No ma'am they haven't so far, and I see no need of them coming in now. They are close enough to see you on the parade grounds. They've never come close enough to really observe, so your chance of detection would be rather nil. Unless of course they send in a spy. But we'll be keeping a sharp eye out for that too."

  "That's a relief." Jennifer smiled.

  "Believe me, if there was serious threat to you, I'd not let you do this. But we must appear as though we have many troops. If they suspect we don't, they could attack us. So, this is very important. Just do your drill and listen to the Sergeant. That's all I ask."

  "What time will the drills take place?" Victoria asked.

  "We drill at nine in the morning, for two hours. Then in the afternoon, for two hours. You'll be learning about artillery too, and how to shoot. Looking as though you know how, is important." He informed them. "Also, intermittently throughout the day, some will go to the stables and brush down horses or feed them, this will look good to the Indians. Are you up to it ladies?"

  "What about in bad weather?"

  "Unfortunately, we drill in bad weather too."

  The women began talking among themselves. "How long will we have to do this?"

  "I'm not sure right now. Until Confederate soldiers take over the fort, or until the Indians quit watching or, possibly until we get enough men from the settlements to do the drills." Quirt told them.

  "What if the Confederates don't come?" Victoria asked.

  "I think they'll come, how long they stay I can't say." Quirt sighed heavily. "I'd advice all of you, to comply with the Confederate army as you do here and now. It will be of no use to resist. Making yourself known as a Unionist or sympathizer, won't help you at all. You are women and they would treat you well, only, there could be some disturbances if you get into a conversation about the war. It would be best to stick to pleasant conversation with them, and not ask them too many questions. Which might be best left for their conversation, not yours. No one seems to know the outcome of all of this. Both sides seem to think it will be a short war, with victory on both sides. But that's a myth. So, I advise you to not speak of it. If you have strong convictions best left to yourself. You want to survive this war, and you are ladies, so you can be very persuasive. You women came here for your loved ones. Where you are from is of no consequence. I'll do all I can to see everyone is treated fairly, but please understand. This is a war and ill feelings will run high. Best to not speak of the war in any terms especially your feelings toward it."

  "But we have opinions too." Sylvia protested.

  "I'm sure you do. But none of us here, know what's going to happen. It will be a while before this fort is occupied by Confederates or Yankees. Wrong words can lead to bad consequences. Stick with being the beautiful ladies that you are except…. when you are drilling."

  "May we ask, just once, where you stand in all of this?" Victoria came closer to him.

  Quirt stared at her a moment then looked at all the women who waited for his answer. "You have every right to know, I suppose." He said, then glanced around the room. "I stand with you, first and always. You are all innocent victims of this war. My allegiance therefore will be to protect you from any assaults. It was the first and only command my commanding officer gave me. I take it seriously. This fort maintains safe passage for all travelers along the El Paso Road. We protect the mail as it is important to us. However, the mail will be obsolete as the telegraph will replace it out here. We were to build telegraph wires, however, it's too dangerous to attempt right now.

  "Before my commanding officer left, we were a Texas army, here to protect settlers from the Indians. Now we are an inactive fort but still protecting from the Indians. However, because we are so few, we will use any means to do so."

  Jennifer smiled, "So you are telling us you are a Texan, sir."

  "Basically, that sums it up." He smiled back.

  The door opened, and the Sergeant brought in long boxes. Several men helped.

  "These are your guns. They are heavy, so you must get used to them. They will remain empty of bullets until at which time you might need them. This way there will be no accidents." The Sergeant told them.

  He started handing them out to the women. The rifles were heavy and some of the women found it hard to hold them for long lengths of time.

  The other soldiers left and just the Sergeant and Quirt were there.

  Quirt instructed them to move their beds back.

  When they had finished, he called them front and center of the room.

  "The Sergeant will lead you in drills until which time he is comfortable letting you outside. Victoria, when you are comfortable with your position, you will lead your squad for the drill. Doing the same things as the Sergeant." Quirt told them and left.

  "Now ladies, you will form two lines side by side." The Sergeant instructed.

  The women began moving so that they were in a row of two, side by side.

  The Sergeant smiled. "Good. Now, about face." He hollered.

  The women looked at him strangely.

  "That means turn to look at me, squarely."

  They all turned to stare at him.

  "Good." He kept smiling. "Now to the left." He instructed, they turned. "March."

  They marched to the wall. "Halt!" He shouted.

  Before an hour passed, he had them marching well and into formation. But they weren't holding the guns yet. He told them when they had mastered the drill itself, he would show them how.

  "You're better than some of my men," The Sergeant laughed.

  They chuckled.

  After another hour of practice, he had them hold a gun and showed them how they must hold it to march. The women found it a bit hard to hold on to the gun and march, but there was hope for them, he decided.

  He looked at them when the practice was over. "We'll do this until we look like a real army detachment."

  "Are we doing this every day?" One girl asked.

  "Yes ma'am, every day."

  He drilled them twice a day, for a week then he reported to Quirt. "They are ready sir, to drill."

  "Any problems?"

  "No sir, not a one." He smiled and pooched out his chest.

  "Great, very well, in the morning you can take them out in the field. For the first drill you will lead them, but after that, if Victoria is ready to assume your place, I want her to. You'll be needed for other duties."

  "Yes sir."

  March 1861

  Chapter Eight

  The women began marching in early March, it was cold, uncomfortable, but not one woman griped about it. Quirt was thankful. The snow had finally melted inside their barracks, and the women were more than happy about that. The Sergeant had them drilling every day and learning how to position their guns, and march at the same time. A couple of days it rained, and he knew they were having trouble, but not one woman whined.

  For some it was a struggle, for others it was fun.

  The women took it in their stride, some even found it amusing.

  "I wonder if they can see us," Sylvia chuckled later that first evening on the parade grounds.

  "I hope not too well," Jennifer smiled.

  "You know as cold as it is, I don't mind marching, warms me up a bit," Victoria chortled.

  Because of their volunteering to do this, Quirt could put men on detail to see to the stagecoaches and Overland Mail. One wagon train came in and the ladies helped them with supplies and loading their wagons. They had their uniforms on and the women looked at them in pure horror.

  One woman from the train hollered, "Now they are taking women in the service?"

  Quirt had to inform them all that it was for their safety and that no word of it should be spread.

  He knew he had Jennifer to thank for their cooperation. He'd have to find a way to thank her.

  He also made a point of sending a man out every now and then to talk with the settlers and
a few had moved into the fort. Having settlers move in made the fort even more homey, as most of them had children, but it did become crowded. All the men slept in the same barracks and the women and children slept in the women's barracks.

  "Why do you march like soldiers, if you're not?" One lady asked Victoria.

  "We are volunteers, to help make the fort look better staffed, so the Indians won't attack."

  "My word!" The woman exclaimed.

  "Where are the rebel troops?" Another lady asked.

  "We haven't seen any yet." Sylvia told her.

  "Aren't you scared?"

  "No, not yet at least." Jennifer smiled.

  As more homesteaders came, a lot of the women had been replaced.

  The drilling looked more authentic and kept the Indian's curiosity down.

  "They look pretty good, Sergeant." Quirt smiled one morning.

  "Yes sir, they do. And they don't balk as much as the men do, either."

  Quirt smiled and walked off.

  One evening Jennifer came to sit on the veranda out back and stared at the huge cliff above them. She wore a plain dress, with no frills. Her hair was neatly curled on top her head, and she looked wistful.

  "I want to thank you," Quirt stopped by to tell her.

  "Oh, for what?" She asked glancing at him.

  "You've been very helpful in getting the women to participate in the drilling. I wasn't sure how that would go over at first. But you stepped up and they didn't quarrel about it or anything." He sat beside her now on the edge of the steps.

  She sighed, "You have so few men, and to do all that you do, I knew you were going to need some help. My father says I'm too blunt. Actually, a lot of us kind of enjoy it. Keeps us in shape."

  "Still, I appreciate it." He looked at her intently now.

  "Have you heard any more from Washington about the war?" She asked.

  "Just that it's stepping up. Your Robert E. Lee has agreed to take command of the Confederate armies. Jeff Davis is claiming to be President of the South now."

  "So, it's a reality then. There will be war?" She stared now.

  "Yes, it's only a matter of time. Lincoln has done all he can to discourage it. Lincoln's election means there will be a war, as he is heavily opposed to slavery. The south isn't. But the arrogance of both sides is something to behold." He looked into her worried expression. "There will be war." His voice drifted off and she looked at him.

  "Arrogance, what are you talking about?"

  He shook his head with a sardonic smile, "I got a paper from South Carolina, one of the men is from there and his family sent it. We all read it, the editor of the Charleston Mercury said he was so sure there wouldn’t be a war even after succession, that he vowed they would eat the bodies of all slain. And a former senator boldly stated the he'd drink all the blood spilled. They have no idea how bad this could get. It's not a joke. It won't be won that simple. The tragedy of it is that they are taking it so lightly."

  "I think you may be right." Jennifer whispered. "I was hoping they might come to better conclusions." She murmured sadly.

  "They've already talked, and argued it out, as much as they can. It's like two mules butting heads. Because Lincoln was elected the south secedes, knowing he was against slavery. It's like that made up their minds about it."

  He leaned his elbows back on the porch and gave her a once over. She was such a handsome woman, even prettier than when she first came. Her cheeks seemed to blossom. "I don't mean to sound so pessimistic, but it's only a matter of time, and we have to be prepared. Out here, we don't know how it's all going to play out. But most of Texas is Confederate. Although I've heard there are a few counties to the east of here that don't agree. If war breaks out, men will be compelled to sign up for the south here in Texas as we've seceded too. Whether they want to or not. They won't be given a choice if they stay here. It'll be the same in the north. They hang the ones that don't as traitors."

  She saw him looking at her and she blushed beautifully.

  "You're a long way from home, aren't you?" He asked softly.

  "I don't miss home." She looked at him and saw his surprise. "I guess that sounds funny, doesn't it?"

  "Well, I'm a little surprised."

  "I'm sure you are thinking I must, but I don't."

  His gaze narrowed on her expressive eyes.

  "And why is that?"

  "I've grown to like it out here. Riding on the train, I stared out the window a lot. I liked what I saw. I also saw what my brother saw, trees, a lot of land, room to grow in. I mean, it's a little lonely, but it's also very beautiful too."

  "You don't like New York, with all the people and huge buildings? I'd imagine you'd love the theaters and museums there."

  "I've seen all of them. I don't need any more. No, it's crowded, and I'd rather look at a sunset than stare off into another building. Out here," she hesitated then looked at him with a slight curl to her lips, "You can breathe and move around freely. The land is so vast, so open, and there are so many trees and flowers. God must love Texas a lot to give it so much."

  "We don't have a lot of trees out this way."

  "No, but on the train, I saw many. And look at that magnificent cliff there, it's beautiful. I've watched it in the sunset, and it changes colors. It's lovely."

  "Well, I’m glad you like it. Your brother sure did."

  "I know. He wrote me about it. I so longed to come out here with him, but my father was adamant that one leaving home was enough."

  "You were close to your brother?"

  "Very. He did what I dreamed of doing. He was so bold for his age."

  "What did he dream of?"

  "Finding a place where he belonged."

  "You don't belong in New York?"

  "Never did. It's too sophisticated for me. A bit too stuffy at times. I'm sure you already pictured me as a tom-boy kind of girl. I'm like my grandmother in that regard. She was the best of cooks, and eager to try new things, see new places. I used to love to run barefoot in the country, catch perch in the small streams, climb trees, and listen to nature."

  "Stuffy?" he smiled, and her heart fluttered as he aimed it at her.

  "Women aren't presumed to have a mind, back home. They are to have teas and shop, and make the house beautiful, but thinking doesn't seem to be a part of it. If I voiced my opinion of this war that's coming, I'd be highly reprimanded. So, you see I won't have a bit of trouble keeping silent about my views. I'll admit the war is quite removed for us back home, it's only talk. I leapt at the chance to get away from that. When Johnny wrote home about how happy he was here. He described things for me. And I find it's just as he described. And I love it. I embrace it."

  He smiled, pleased that she liked his country. "That reminds me, I was going to bring you his drawings."

  "I'd love to see them." She told him.

  "Wait here, I'll be right back," he encouraged her.

  She sat peacefully enjoying the day as it had warmed up some and felt pleasant. Being from New York she was used to cold weather though.

  When he returned, he handed her a large tablet with many pages in it. He sat down beside her, close so he could look too. Inside were the drawings her brother had made of Texas.

  Tears suddenly clouded her eyes, "They are beautiful." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "He had the heart of an artist, as he was able to see beauty in things others never noticed."

  "They really are good," Quirt admitted as he sat close to her. "He was very talented."

  "It should have been me dying out here, not him. He had so much talent… so much of a future."

  Quirt reached to draw her chin around, so he could stare into her tear-stained eyes, "That would have been a real waste."

  The intensity of his glance made her cheeks grow warm. His head suddenly bent, and he was about to kiss her when a young soldier interrupted them.

  Quirt moved away slowly, his eyes sending a quick apology to Jennifer.

  "Yes Private, something w
rong?" Quirt didn't mean to sound so indulging, but he really wanted to kiss her. And that was a novelty. Women had always been elusive out here. But he knew in his heart he was drawn to Jennifer for some reason, and he wanted to explore that reason.

  "We're getting low on meat sir. I'd like permission to go hunting sir. It's a good day for it."

  "Hunting, huh? Well, I suppose that would be fine. Keep your eyes out for Indians though if you wander far."

  The young recruit smiled, saluted him and left.

  Jennifer stood up and started to walk away. Quirt felt a cold breeze where she had been and wished he could have finished what he started. "I better go in, now." She murmured from a short distance away.

  "I didn't mean to be so forward ma'am." He apologized afraid he had scared her off with his quest to touch his lips to hers.

  She licked her lips now. He wondered if she was thinking of the kiss that never happened.

  She stared at him a long moment, then a slow smile spread over her face. "I didn't think you forward. Good evening."

  He stared hard now, wishing he could reclaim the moment. He liked an honest woman.

  But just then she went inside.

  He smiled after her. He'd have to try again, sometime.

  Thinking on his actions he wondered about her. She was such a mixture of woman. But he liked that mixture and someday he'd show her.

  Chapter Nine

  Ft. Sumner was fired upon on April 12th, but the news didn't reach the remote forts in West Texas for nearly a week. However, the plans were not to be, it was very early in the civil war and Confederates Col. John R Baylor arrived in April with his Confederate Mounted Rifles. Upon his arrival the raw recruits gathered in the courtyard for a short speech in which Colonel Baylor advised the remaining troops, "All those that want to enlist in the Confederacy can sign up in the dining hall this evening. Any northern sympathizers will evacuate this post now and proceed to San Antonio where you can sign up for the northern army. They will be gathering there a short while to enlist the ones that want to fight for the north. That is all as of now. I will not be here long as I am to go on to enlist the New Mexico territory and its people."