The office was definitely a colonel’s.  An American flag stood in one corner.  Citations, accolades and awards hung on the wall, along with framed photographs.  Charlotte stopped, Grace still on her hip.  She went around the bemused Mrs. Hutchinson to the photograph showing members of the tribes seated in all their traditional finery and eagle feathers with congressmen in dark suits behind them.  Chace.  She stared at the faces but couldn’t pick out one that might be the grandfather’s.  Likely he wasn’t in it anyway, she told herself.  It could be any tribe, anywhere.  Let it go.

“I apologize, I wasn’t thinking for a moment,” Charlotte said.  She held out her free hand.  “Charlotte Duchesne.  I know you have questions to ask me.  I would, in your place.”

Mrs. Hutchinson was lovely.  Older, maybe, and lined, with some sort of resignation set in around her gentle mouth.  But her piled up hair was rich and lustrous, her smile was kind, and something in her eyes said that she didn’t live by the rules and didn’t necessarily believe anybody else should either.  Charlotte also recognized that, as she’d somehow known, the woman was not a dithering idiot and this would not be easy.

“First, I am not Mrs. Hutchinson.  Call me Lenore.  And I see you’ve already got the youngest one in tow.”

“Ada said she wouldn’t stop crying, so I thought I’d try this.  Seems to be working.”  Charlotte sat down with Grace.  “I obviously have concerns about all of them, though.”

“Myself as well.  You’re right, I do have questions and I’d be remiss in my responsibilities to these children if I didn’t ask them.”

“I understand,” Charlotte said.

“First, if I may ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Lenore actually laughed out loud.  “You’re no more twenty-five than I am.”

“Close.  Coming up.”  She didn’t want to lose them before she even had them.

“Coming up when?”

“In five years.”

“That’s what I thought.  You’re very much like Ada.  I suppose you know that.”

“Yes.”

“You left the wagon train.  Why is that?”

“I was in the care of Ellis Gray, the captain, but he was forced by circumstances to leave.  I imagine you’re aware of at least some of his situation.  It was already clear that single women in charge of their own wagons weren’t welcome and that proved to be more than the case.  They took no joy in seeing me arrive and were very glad to see me go.”

“So after that you traveled by yourself?”

“A group of one sort or another came by nearly every day.  People were generous and helped me when I needed it.”

“A man named Abner Cross came looking for you.”

“My uncle,” Charlotte said.

“Also a federal marshal.”