Calico Brides Page 7

  Haydn glanced at the sleeping figure on the sofa. “Can you carry everything by yourself?” He wished he could go down to the mercantile with her, to enjoy a few hours of her company away from the sick man’s bedside.

  “I can.” Gladys reached into her pocket and pulled out a change purse. “But why don’t you go ahead? You haven’t been out of this house for days.”

  The prospect sorely tempted Haydn, but he decided against it. “You need to do the shopping. You send me for eucalyptus oil and I might come back with castor oil instead.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Gladys didn’t know if it was the steam treatments, the vegetable broth spicy enough to strip green from copper, or the dried-up lemon Mr. Finnegan found for her. But by Sunday Mr. Keller had improved to the point where she and Haydn could leave him alone and go to church together.

  She rejoiced that it was Palm Sunday, the beginning of Passion Week. Ruth led her schoolchildren in a reenactment of Jesus’ triumphal entry, waving pine branches instead of palms, and Jesus riding a pony instead of a donkey. Ruth had recruited Gladys’s brother Gordon to hold cue cards for the congregation.

  With Gordon’s encouragement, the rafters of the church rang with shouts. “Hallelujah! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Heart lifted in praise and worship, Gladys could hardly believe the same crowd had cried, “Crucify Him!” less than a week later.

  On Monday morning, the doctor from Langtry pronounced Mr. Keller well enough to get up if he wanted to. Speaking with Gladys and Haydn in the front parlor, he said, “You’ve done an excellent job, both of you.”

  “It was all Miss Polson’s doing.” Haydn reflected the credit back to her.

  “All I did was follow the suggestions in my mother’s medical book.” Telltale heat raced into Gladys’s cheeks.

  The doctor nodded. “Since I’m not needed here, I’ll go check on a couple of Dr. Devereux’s other patients.”

  Gladys’s valise waited under her cloak by the front door. “I’ll say good-bye to Mr. Keller before I leave.” She headed up to his room, where they had moved him earlier when he improved enough to climb the stairs. Knocking on the door, she called, “Mr. Keller?”

  “That you, Gladys? Come on in.” Mr. Keller sat up in bed, a pillow at his back. “It’s about time I said thank you for all you’ve done. That young doctor said you had a lot to do with me getting better.”

  Gladys sat beside him, hands crossed in her lap. “It was God. I was only His instrument.”

  “You healed more than my body, young lady. You healed my heart. This next Sunday is Easter, isn’t it?”

  Gladys nodded. “My favorite time of year. I love Christmas, but Jesus’ resurrection completes the story.”

  “You may be right.” Mr. Keller patted her hands. “I plan on going to church with Haydn next week. We’ll be looking for you.”

  “You will?” Joy spread through Gladys’s body from the inside out. “That’s the best news I’ve had since the first time I came to visit.”

  Gladys called the sewing circle together to finish one final project for Mr. Keller. Late Saturday night, she knotted the final stitch on the surprise and wrapped it in plain brown paper with string.

  Early Sunday morning, about the same time the women headed to Jesus’ tomb, Gladys put the package in the bottom of a basket and added several of her mother’s hot cross buns in a towel. Ma hugged her. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”

  “Too many times.” She returned her mother’s hug. “I’ll see you at church if not before.”

  “If they invite you to stay for breakfast, go ahead and eat with them.”

  As Gladys headed out the door, her mother said, “He is risen!”

  “He is risen indeed!” Gladys returned the greeting then picked her way down the street, a muddy morass from the melted snow. She knocked boldly on Mr. Keller’s front door, none of the fear that had troubled her on her first visit stopping her this time.

  She was about to knock a second time when Haydn opened the door, surprise evident on his face. “Gladys! What are you doing here so early?”

  She followed him into the parlor. “I come bearing gifts. Ma sent boiled eggs and hot cross buns for your breakfast.”

  “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “We wanted to.” She continued into the kitchen, where Mr. Keller sat at the table. “Happy Easter, Mr. Keller.” She removed the food from the basket and then lifted the package from the bottom. Feeling suddenly shy, she laid it in front of the old man. “This is for you.”

  Mr. Keller smiled. He smiled. “I got a present, and it isn’t even Christmas. Get me some scissors, Haydn, so I can cut the strings. They’re in the drawer next to the silverware.”

  He stripped the strings away and unwrapped the brown paper. “It’s a quilt of some kind. That’s a lot of work.”

  “A small one. My friends helped me finish it.” Gladys tugged the two top corners and stretched the quilt out, revealing a log cabin design in shades of blue. “You can use it as a lap rug. That way you can always be cozy and warm. I thought you might like it, going out today.”

  Haydn bent over it, studying the stitches. “You do amazing work.” He had set the table with three plates. “You will join us for breakfast, won’t you?”

  “Gladly.”

  Before Gladys could sit, Haydn blocked her chair. “Will you join me in the parlor for a few moments?”

  Did he have a gift for her? Gladys’s heart beat faster. She hadn’t brought a gift for him.

  Once in the middle of the room, Haydn dropped to one knee. After stumbling back a step, Gladys steadied herself, and Haydn caught hold of her fingertips. “Gladys Polson, you opened my eyes to a love I had never known. How could I help but fall in love with the woman who showed me the love of the Lord every day since I’ve met her? Although I’m not worthy of you, I still dare bare my soul to you. Will you marry me? Be my wife and share my life and my love?”

  “Yes. I’ll even follow you back to Topeka, if that is where God leads you.”

  The tap of a walking cane announced Mr. Keller, carrying his new quilt. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Gladys wondered why Mr. Keller was interrupting this private moment, but she decided she didn’t mind. They waited until he joined them and placed his hands on their arms. “Haydn won’t be going anywhere. He’ll be staying right here and starting a newspaper.” He settled in his chair, and Gladys darted forward to tuck the new quilt around him. “Gladys, I’d like to introduce you to my grandson, Haydn Norman Keller.”

  Haydn grinned somewhat sheepishly. “You don’t object to being a Keller and living here with my grandfather?”

  Gladys looked from one man to the other, comparing those identical sparkling brown eyes. How had she missed it?

  “Gladly. Tomorrow and for the rest of my life.”

  “Kiss her, boy.”

  And Haydn did.

  A soft answer turneth away wrath;

  but grievous words stir up anger.

  PROVERBS 15:1

  Chapter 1

  Annie Bliss hesitated as Fort Blunt, located about five miles from the town of Calico, came into view. Reaching behind her, she touched the bundle of socks, scarves, and mittens she had knitted for the soldiers stationed there. The idea shimmered like a leaf after the rain when it first occurred to her, but now each clop of her horse’s hooves on the hard ground brought a smidgeon of doubt. Lord, please let them accept this offering in Your name.

  Gladys Polson rode with her. After their sewing circle decided to take on local mission projects, Gladys acted first. Her bravery in reaching out to the town’s curmudgeonly rich hermit encouraged Annie to think of young men serving their country far from home.

  “They’re just boys like my brothers. Nothing to it.” Annie spoke the words as if hearing them out loud would bolster her courage.

  Gladys darted a glance in Annie’s direction before returning her attentio
n to the road ahead. “You’ll be fine.”

  A man’s voice boomed through the thick fortress wall, loud enough for them to catch words here and there. “Poorly laundered…wouldn’t pass inspection by a blind general…”

  Annie took a deep breath. Although the man’s anger frightened her, it also gave her impetus to go ahead. Perhaps God would use her gifts to remind angry soldiers like this one of His goodness.

  The stockade gate swung open and a petite woman came out, her shoulders hunched over with more than the basket full of uniforms. She glanced at the two women on horseback with a wan smile. “Good day.”

  A burly figure lumbered away from the gate, each footfall echoing his words to the trembling woman in front of them.

  Even if the woman was a poor laundress, she didn’t deserve the soldier’s anger. Annie said, “Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

  “I don’t think his bed has a right side, at least when it comes to women.” The laundress shifted the basket to her other hip. “I hope your visit doesn’t involve the Bear.”

  “Bear” described the man’s gait perfectly, and Annie smothered a giggle. “Thanks for the warning. Can we help you carry that laundry somewhere?”

  “It’s just around the corner, but thanks for the offer.” Nodding her farewell, the laundress headed in the direction of a stand of trees on the south side of the fort.

  “Ready?” Gladys asked.

  For answer, Annie urged her horse through the open gate. Around the flagpole, a platoon drilled under the careful watch of their lieutenant. The cantankerous man had disappeared.

  The lieutenant called one of the soldiers to take over the drill and walked through the ranks toward the women. Young and handsome, his features suggested someone who didn’t take life too seriously. “Lieutenant Chaswell at your service.” He swept his cap from his head and bowed. “How can I assist two such fair ladies today?”

  Annie smiled at the flattery. “We’re hoping to speak with Captain Peate, or if he is unavailable, with his wife.”

  “Certainly.” Chaswell lifted his arms, and Gladys accepted his help in dismounting from her horse. Annie followed suit, her hand brushing against the bundle of knitted items, reminding her of her purpose. Any chance to slip in and take care of their business unnoticed disappeared with the men drilling. As they walked to the captain’s lodgings, every pair of eyes tracked their progress. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie spotted the Bear making his way to a building with a cross on top, probably the fort’s chapel. At least he was heading in the right direction for a man with a troubled spirit.

  Jeremiah Arnold hadn’t missed the arrival of the two women, nor the way Chaswell had jumped at the opportunity to greet them. Although he kept his gaze averted, he hadn’t missed the way the sunshine bounced off golden hair cascading below a green cap, and it disturbed him more than the laundress ever had with the poor quality of her work. Had he been too hard on her? No. Women had to be as tough as men to survive in this harsh environment, perhaps even more so.

  The visitors reminded him of his reasons for joining the army. He shook his head to dislodge the memories that threatened to pour over him like molten lava if awakened. No wonder the soldiers called him Bear. Years of trying to make restitution for past sins often left him as grumpy as a bear awakened out of hibernation.

  In the absence of assigned duties, he headed to the chapel. Once he crossed the threshold, peace welcomed him. The chapel wasn’t much, a wooden structure that barely rose above freezing in the winter and baked them in the summer. But on this fair day in late April, spring had arrived and the atmosphere was perfect, the temperature matching the uniform like a glove on a lady’s hand.

  Thinking about women again, are you? With a growl worthy of his nickname, Jeremiah jumped to his feet and walked the perimeter of the pews. The captain sat in the first row week by week unless away on business, his wife at his side. Jeremiah hurried through his prayers on their behalf, not wanting to dwell on Mrs. Peate’s visit with the two guests.

  On to the second row. Chaswell attended every week, along with a handful of young recruits who struggled more than most with army life. Although Jeremiah hoped to have a similar impact on the men placed under his care as Chaswell seemed to have, very few of the younger men sought him out during their free time. Fighting against jealousy, Jeremiah thanked God for Chaswell’s faith.

  Jeremiah continued down the rows, lifting up specific prayers as he passed each man’s usual seat. Seats in the pews were tightly regimented, by the men’s own choice.

  At last he arrived at the back row, the refuge of the five men who drifted in and out of the services. Their names were branded on Jeremiah’s brain. Who needed military discipline the most often? Any one of these five. Which recruits might desert their post? One of them already had, his replacement arriving with the same rebellious attitude.

  Which men spent their paydays at the saloon in town, taking advantage of all the entertainment the place had to offer?

  The thought confirmed Jeremiah’s sermon topic for tomorrow: a warning against strange women, drawn from several passages in Proverbs. Sometimes Captain Peate chided Jeremiah for preaching too often on the same subject, but each and every time he felt God’s leading.

  The front door squeaked open, and Jeremiah opened his eyes. The young man in front of him snapped a salute. “Lieutenant Arnold, sir!”

  “At ease, soldier.”

  The lad dropped the salute. “Mrs. Peate wishes to see you in her quarters, sir.”

  “I will be there promptly.” Jeremiah remained behind while the private left, breathing in the quiet before heading outside. A light breeze stirred the air, heady with gentle rains and thunderstorms, new tree leaves and blooming flowers. A perfect day for a ride if he had time later.

  With a longing glance at the stables, Jeremiah headed for the captain’s quarters. Whatever Mrs. Peate wanted with the chaplain involved the morning’s visitors—unwelcome, intruding females.

  “I think it’s a marvelous idea. Even the roughest of the men will welcome the homey touch.” Mrs. Peate filled the coffee cups.

  After a single sip, Annie reached for cream and sugar. Even so, she could barely swallow the strong brew. Gladys set down her cup after a single taste.

  “Over the years I’ve become fond of army coffee.” Mrs. Peate lifted her shoulders in apology. “But I know it’s not to everyone’s taste. I have cool water if you prefer.”

  At nods from both guests, she bustled into the kitchen. She reappeared a few minutes later carrying a tray with a pitcher, glasses, and a plate of cookies. “Please help me eat these. The cook doesn’t like me baking for the men, and I can’t eat them all myself.” A wistful look raced across her face, replaced by her pleasant smile. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. Lieutenant Arnold should be here shortly. As chaplain, he is in the best position to know who will appreciate the scarf sets the most.”

  Gladys patted Annie’s hand in silent support. Ever since Haydn Keller, the grandson of Calico’s richest citizen, had asked for Gladys’s hand in marriage, she believed anything was possible. If only God had led Annie to assist a family instead of a fort filled with strange men.

  Not men, she reminded herself, but lads like her brother. A touch of home might keep them on the straight and narrow. Her thoughts strayed to the grumpy man she had observed yelling at the laundress. Now that man could benefit from kindness.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Annie straightened her back. Why waste energy worrying? The chaplain would make an excellent ally.

  “Here he is.” Mrs. Peate walked to the door and opened it. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Lieutenant. We have guests who are eager to meet you.”

  A booted foot with a heavy gait…stocky body and scowling expression. Surely God wouldn’t expect her to…

  The Bear was the chaplain?

  Chapter 2

  Annie’s knees shook a teensy bit as she stood and faced th
e chaplain while Mrs. Peate introduced them. Lieutenant Jeremiah Arnold looked ordinary enough, average height, with a build more like a boxer than a man of the cloth. His resemblance to a bear came mostly from his attitude, exuding a barely controlled strength. Gray streaked a thick, reddish-brown beard, and dust coated his blue uniform. Annie thought she could sense him struggling to hide his impatience.

  He bent at the waist. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bliss. Miss Polson.” His deep tones came out as a growl.

  Annie opened her mouth to respond but didn’t know what to say. Before the silence stretched too long, he said, “I’m at your service. Can I assist you in some way?”

  In contrast to his appearance, not to mention the anger he had directed at the laundress, a hint of interest flickered in his dark brown eyes. Was it interest…or a challenge to give him a reason for him to help her?

  Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest. The verse Annie and her friends had chosen as their motto came to mind. If David could kill a real bear in battle, she could face down her Bear as well. Annie might wield knitting needles and yarn instead of a slingshot, and she certainly wasn’t looking to kill anyone. But she was battling for the souls of young men. “My brother is stationed at Fort Laramie. Sometimes he gets lonely and longs for a reminder of home. His letters gave me an idea for a mission project, and Fort Blunt came to mind.”

  She’s pretty when she blushes.

  Where did that thought come from? Jeremiah had eschewed the comforts of hearth and home after his personal dance with the devil years ago. He hadn’t allowed anyone or anything to come between him and his vow of chastity in all the years since. Flattening his features, he kept his voice level. “Mission? Are you handing out free Bibles? We already take care of that.”