V
They were barely settled when Mrs. Shaw gave a tea, as much, Brittany suspected, to keep the wivesâ spirits up while their men were away as to welcome the newcomer. Mrs. Shaw had the only maid on the post, Marie, a woman so flat, plain, and colorless that even women-starved soldiers had left her spinsterhood unassailed.
While Mrs. Shaw poured tea into almost transparent china cups, Marie offered plates of scones, little jam tarts, and tiny sandwiches made with cucumbers from the post garden and cress from a stream.
It was a small gathering. Alice Taunton, the chaplainâs wife, was a tiny woman with alert dark eyes and waving white hair drawn into a loose knot with tortoiseshell combs. She obviously felt that if Colonel Shaw commanded the menâs temporal life, her husband, Major Taunton, was in charge of their morals.
âThat bar in the post traderâs!â she began as soon as Brittany had been introduced and a few polite words exchanged. âIt encourages the men to dissipate themselves and brawl. Most of them donât have a dime left after payday.â
âThereâs not much other recreation for them except baseball,â Mrs. Shaw said soothingly. âAfter all, Mrs. Taunton, most of them are young, and thereâs no nearby town where they can go for entertainment.â
âBut the drunkenness!â
âColonel Shaw feels,â said his wife firmly, âthat Mr. DeLong fills a great need in supplying a decent, honest place where men can socialize.â She offered Regina more tea. âAre you nicely moved in, my dear?â
âYes, though weâre sorely crowded,â began Regina. She began to complain of the childrenâs partitioned room when Gertrude Fenwick, the surgeonâs wife, gave a toss of her tight taffy curls.
âYouâre lucky these quarters have floors, or youâd be up to your ears in mud when it rains. I was ranked into a hall at our first post and had our first baby there. Youâve little to fret about, Regina, but when youâre tempted, it might help to remember that your choice of quarters advances with your husbandâs rank and eventually youâll be cursed by young wives for having the nicest dwellingâwhich, of course, youâll feel youâve earned!â
She helped herself to another scone. Mrs. Shaw bridged the awkwardness. âWe lived in a doubled tent for one Nevada winter,â she laughed. âThe problem was keeping from freezing without burning down the shelter. At Camp Supply, the floors were dirt, so damp that mushrooms grew overnight. Up at Fort Fetterman, we lived in a dugout.â She paused, glancing around and said slowly, âStill, we were together. And because we were, each of those places was home.â
On the way back to the Gravesesâ quarters, Regina said crossly, âItâs all very well for her to romanticize being together and in love in a dugout! They never had children. And she has a spare bedroom, that lovely big parlor, a maid and a striker! Iâll wager when she was a second lieutenantâs wife and pushed about by everyone that she wasnât so philosophical.â
Brittany suspected that Miranda Shaw had never been a whiner but it seemed impolitic to tell her cousin that, so they walked on in silence.
The detachment returned a week later without having glimpsed an Apache. âZach Tyrell left the column when we rode north of his ranch this morning,â explained Edward to Brittany, wisely picking a moment when his wife was out of the room. âBut he said to tell you heâll be in for the dance this Saturday.â
Regina returned before Brittany could say that Tyrellâs whereabouts were none of her concern, which saved her from a lie. The truth was that he was seldom out of her mind, and sheâd spent that week alternately worrying about his safety and devising withering speeches to deliver when she next saw him.
Of course, sheâd been busy otherwise too, helping Regina settle into new quarters and beginning lessons with the children. Neither could do more than the most elementary sums, and Angela couldnât read much better than Ned, who was in McGuffeyâs primer. Her writing was almost as bad as her spelling. Brittany did her best to make lessons interesting, and Ned responded, though he had a plodding mind. Angela was quick but flighty. The only way to get her to study was to say that they were staying in the parlor-classroom till sheâd satisfactorily completed her various stints.
âSergeant Meadows wasnât mean, like you!â the elfbeautiful child hurled at Brittany. âHe never checked papers or made us read out loud.â
âPerhaps thatâs why your mother decided you needed another teacher,â Brittany said with pleasant firmness.
âBut Hattieâs knocked twice!â
âYes, sheâs waiting for you to come out, so why donât you apply yourself?â
Angela shot her teacher-cousin a spiteful glance but attacked her division problems and was soon finished. Brittany sighed as she watched her run out and link arms with black-braided, skinny Hattie Fenwick, who didnât attend school at all, because her mother considered her too delicate.
Schooling at Camp Bowie, as at most frontier posts, was rather casual. The school served as a library, a chapel on Sunday, and a courts-martial room when required. Sergeant Meadows got extra pay of thirty-five cents a day for his exertions and still had to carry out his regular duties, including his turn at guard. Another sergeant had classes at night for the enlisted men. The post commander strictly prohibited favoritism to officersâ children, though they were not required to attend school, as were children of enlisted men.
This seemed peculiar to Brittany, but she was rapidly learning the ways of military life and becoming familiar with the small world of the post.
One thing that took some getting used to was using the adobe âsink,â or toilet, set out behind their quarters. Except for an attached chicken coop, there was no screening of trees or fences, and for a while Brittany looked to make sure no men were around before she dashed for the little building.
The parade ground where the flag was raised in the morning and lowered to âTapsâ at night was where guard mount was performed in dress uniform before breakfast, in midafternoon, and before âTaps.â Because it slanted a lot, drill was held on flatter areas.
There was stable call down at the corrals every afternoon. Dressed in stable frocks of unbleached drilling, troopers groomed their mounts, oiled and polished riding gear, and cleaned the stables. Each corral had its own blacksmithâs shop, granary, farrierâs and saddlerâs rooms. The cavalry barracks, kitchen, and mess were catercorner across the parade ground from Officersâ Row, in front of the corrals. The granary, quartermasterâs storehouse, guardhouse, and bakery were between the cavalry complex and hospital, which flanked the school next to the adjutantâs office, or headquarters, the official center of the post.
The social center was the post traderâs, operated by Sidney DeLong, a pleasant gentleman who had a reputation for honesty, though wares were necessarily expensive because of freighting costs. Next to his office were two rooms where officers could play billiards and cards, and there was a bar for enlisted men.
The store carried things not available at the quartermasterâs: imported delicacies, canned fruits, tobacco, sewing supplies, medicines, shoe blacking, dishes, utensils, soap, and items like Van Buskirkâs Fragrant Sozodent, a dentifrice promised to keep âteeth pearly white, the gums rosy, and the breath sweet.â There were shelves of beverages, imported Irish soda water and root beer concentrate, Guiness stout, Schlitz and Anheuser beer, champagne, wine, and whiskey.
The impending dance had sent all the women, from Mrs. Shaw to the laundresses, flocking to the store for the wherewithal to furbish their best dresses.
âItâs too vexing!â Regina grumbled, eyeing the array of trims and ornaments. âPrecious little to choose from and all priced sky-high!â
Brittany didnât answer, though she wished she had a little pocket money to spend on lace to freshen the sleeves and collar of her shabby best blue dress. Apparently, the notion of giving Brittany a small wage for her governessâmaid-of-all-work chores had never occurred to Regina, and Brittany shrank from asking.
While Regina fretfully held up and discarded braid, ribbons, frills, and beading, Brittany enjoyed sniffing blended odors and studied labels on everything from Jamaica Ginger to Vermifuge and Vaseline.
A broad pink arm reached in front of Regina to extract a yellow silk rose from the merchandise. Regina looked down her nose as much as was possible at a woman who towered over her. âPray have the goodness to let me examine that flower,â she snapped.
âDearie, Iâve got one tub of clothes in the boiler and another ready to wring out,â returned the woman good-naturedly. She held the rose against her carroty hair and pursed her lips as she studied the effect. âYou got all day. I donât.â
âWhy, you rude, pushyââ
The orange-haired woman shook her head in regret. âDonât suit.â She dropped the rose in front of Regina. âYou can have it, mum.â
âAfter youâve mauled it around?â Regina snapped, cheeks crimson.
The woman had beautiful violet eyes, dimples in her plump cheeks, and a gap-toothed grin, which broadened. âMuch as my hands stay in water and soap, theyâre cleaner than yours, dearie.â She picked up a massed bow of brown velvet and called to the trader, âMr. DeLong, will you trust me for this till payday?â
âHappy to, Mrs. OâMalley,â said the dark-bearded, moustached trader, whose wavy hair was gray at the sides. âNeed snuff for Patrick?â
âDonât worry about that one running short,â she chuckled. âBut you might put a few beers on the tab. Schlitz.â
âRight you are.â The trader handed over the bottles and bow. âThat brown velvet will really set off your hair,â he complimented. âSave a dance for me.â
âYou bet I will,â she laughed and strode out, her vitality attracting admiring glances from several men, though âhealthyâ was the most praise that could be given to her looks.
DeLong, still smiling, turned to Regina. âHave you decided, maâam?â
âThank you,â she said icily, âbut Iâm not interested in goods that have been handled by everyone at the post.â As his jaw dropped she swept toward the door but froze in the entrance.
âZach Tyrell!â she muttered almost beneath her breath. âLord save us! Heâs got an Apache brat!â
Brittany didnât know how much sheâd hoped that Tyrell would call at the Gravesesâ quarters till she saw him ride away from headquarters. His rescue of her would have been excuse enough to inquire. But there he went, back as straight as any cavalrymanâs, though with a loose easiness in his posture. He didnât even glance around.
Perhaps, she told herself irefully, heâd rescued another woman by now and was flirting with her. âI wonder where he found that Indian child,â she ventured to Regina.
âEdward will tell us at noon.â Reginaâs brow furrowed. âCan you sew, Brittany? Since I couldnât find a pretty trim for my green dress, Iâll have to wear my gray, and the hem needs turning up just a trifle to hide where itâs worn.â
Edwardâs news of Tyrellâs report was disquieting. âHe tended to things at his ranch after our patrol and then managed to locate the raidersâ trail down in Skeleton Canyon. Crossed the Mexican border and encountered Mexican soldiers whoâd skirmished with the Apaches and captured this child. They say that the fiercest Apache leaders didnât surrender and go to San Carlos. Instead, Geronimo, Juh, and other chiefs are down in the Sierra Madre with perhaps four hundred followers. Even figuring lots of them are women and children, it would seem weâre in for trouble.â
Reginaâs eyes dilated with fright. âYou mean that after all that hullabaloo, Agent Clum took peaceful Chiricahuas up to the reservation while the renegades are still on the prowl?â
âIâm afraid so,â Edward said unhappily. âAnyway, Tyrell didnât like to see the Apache child condemned to what would be a life of slavery, so he bought him.â
âAnd dumped him here?â
âAfter all, my dear, a bachelorâs ranch is scarcely a good place for a five-year-old, especially when Tyrellâs gone so much.â
âThat little savage had better not give our children lice or some horrible disease!â Regina flashed. âI suppose heâll be sent to the reservation?â
Edward rubbed his moustache. âThatâs up to Colonel Shaw. This morning he seemed to favor keeping the boy here and attempting to civilize him.â
âThatâs insane!â
âPlease, my loveââ
âIf he molests Ned or Angela, I shall write direct to General Kautz,â Regina vowed. âI suppose the little wretch has been assigned to a laundressâas if they were civilized themselves!â
âNo. It would seem the Shaws are taking him in.â
Regina gaped. âHow can they? Mrs. Shawâs younger brother, just out of West Point, was killed by Apaches during one of Crookâs campaigns.â
âAll the same, she pities the lad.â
âShe doesnât have any children he can infect or murder!â
âRegina!â
She caught in her breath. âOh, I know! The commander and his wife can do as they please and the rest of us have to put up with it! But I warn you, Edward, if he molests Ned or Angelaââ
âTheyâre both much bigger than he is, my dear,â sighed Edward. He turned to Brittany with a ponderously teasing look. âLieutenant OâShea canât wait till the dance to meet you, Cousin Brittany. Heâs asked permission to take you riding in th...