The year passed rapidly enough. I went out into society more, and even received a proposal of marriage from a junior executive with the railroad. I considered his offer carefully. He was an attractive man with good manners and few bad habits, but try as I might, I saw no fun in him. He wasn’t the sort of man who could perplex me one moment, and make me laugh at the same time. I told him no, but with regret. He seemed disappointed, but he married someone else later in the year.

The only other matter of interest in 1880 was a reception held for now-Brigadier General Miles that we attended at Fort Omaha. I had misgivings about attending the reception. I should have stayed home.

The reception was held at the quarters of General George Crook, then commanding the Platte District. General Miles looked handsome and trim in his uniform, with all his medals on display. He stood in line as if posing for his portrait. I knew at whose expense he had raced across Montana and won those stars. As Hawk would have said, my heart was bad.

He didn’t even recognize me. Some officer, probably his adjutant, murmured my name as was customary as I went down the line, but perhaps he did not hear. The post’s band was playing a little too enthusiastically. I smiled at him, then moved on down the line and right into the cloak room. I didn’t look back, but vowed to stay away from all military functions, a vow I have kept.

By 1880, Mother had tracked down another worthy suitor for me, this one a middle-aged widower with two children who ranched in Red Cloud, Nebraska. His banking interests and some connection to the railroad took him to Omaha now and then, which brought him to Mother’s attention. After a few sedate parlor visits and one dinner in a good restaurant, I had enough experience by now to know he was working up to an offer.

I considered the matter. I was almost twenty-two, and too old for college. All of my friends from Miss Sumner’s Female Academy were long since married, and some were mothers already. I had devised no scheme for maintaining myself independently, as skinning dead horses was not a ladylike trade. I knew my parents wanted me off their hands, because here was Eugenie, about to make her social debut. I had become an impediment, and I knew it.

Why I didn’t marry that ranching empresario with the pleasant children and become the cattle queen of Nebraska will occupy the remainder of this document.

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-six

A surprising thing happened in October, a thing which gave me a heartful of hope. I love that phrase. It has become a beloved expression in our family.