Charlotte let her eyes rest fondly on him.  “So if life finally decides to be good to you, you might get that green land in Oregon Territory you talked about and even a fine woman and her two daughters to go with it.”

“Or get thrown to the ground and trampled.”

“Or that,” she said.  “I’ll pray for you.”

“That scares me more than a little.”

Charlotte smiled.  “You’re a good man, you know.  My father’s trust wasn’t in any way misplaced.”

Ellis laid his head on the table.  The mention of her father brought back everything, the wagon train, Washington City, the burial, her being here in this condition, Chace out there who knew where.  “Don’t,” he said.  “Now I’m the one who can’t take it.”

35

With winter approaching, half the cavalry unit of the fort was reassigned to Texas.  Lenore’s husband, a bearded and hearty man, reappeared leading a contingent of officers and servants, five supply wagons, a cooking wagon, ten extra horses, and an entire train of mules loaded down with tents and furnishings and game.  Charlotte watched Lenore descend the stairs from their quarters to greet him.  She observed his half-smile, the touch of an arm, then attention turned in another direction.  Charlotte thought he seemed far less than eager to give up the camaraderie of the plains and resume the dull bugle-blowing, endless parade-marching, target-shooting existence of an out-of-the-way fort, nodding by the fire with a wife, even an exceptional one.  Charlotte consigned him to the trash heap of men who didn’t deserve what they had.

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Ellis and Miller settled back easily into the barracks and life at the fort.  They gave their time to whatever job was needed, shoeing horses, sewing harnesses, splitting logs, chopping wood, making repairs.  Twice, having heard of trouble at Fort Pence, Colonel Hutchinson sent them to investigate.  On another memorable occasion, the Colonel invited them to his office for a frank discussion of the Indian lands over cigars and brandy.  Miller, with deep experience of the land that had been his home but no experience at all with social situations, got sick from the cigar and then drunk on the brandy.

Both of them respected the privacy Charlotte had built around the children.  They came to dinner on Wednesdays and Sundays but otherwise stayed away, leaving her furious.  At least when you come, she told them, be early enough for reading time so that they see a man now and then.  Ellis pointed out that they lived in a whole fort full of men, but they began to dutifully appear at reading time and take their proper turns.  Charlotte even forced the issue of a sketch.

“Listen to me,” she said.  “Children always need willing adults and good examples to follow.  It’s important.”

“A sketch?” Miller said.  He’d never heard of a sketch before.  He could only read because Chace had taught him.