Chapter Six
Hattie woke with a start. She shoved off the heavy buffalo hides and bounced to her feet. The cool air in the tepee bit clean through her fogginess. She stood with one hand against the sloped wall, the other hand clutching a wool coat over her chest, and it was already light outside. What had happened?
The caped overcoat was the clue. The troopers had come, and one of them—Jack Hennessey, of all people—had arranged for her release. Last night she’d finally been fed and rested, and today she could continue her journey.
The cedar log on the fire filled the tepee with a sweet scent. Hattie threw the coat over her shoulders and huddled next to the flame. The experiences of the last few days were too frightening to think about, so she tried to focus on her future. What was her plan? Was she ready to give up on her mission and return home? If she did, her parents wouldn’t fund another venture. So she’d continue to Denver, then. Get on another stagecoach like the one before and travel with strangers. Hattie pulled the edges of the coat around her and shivered. She’d do what she had to, but she didn’t relish the journey. Not with the memories so fresh.
Reins jangling and the creaking of wheels alerted her that someone had arrived. The door flapped open, and a tall silhouette darkened the space. She tucked her chin into the cape. All her hopes hung on Jack Hennessey. She was still having trouble acquainting herself with that fact.
He took off his hat and brushed at his wavy hair. She did remember that brown shock of mess, but it didn’t look so out of control now that he’d grown into it. His fresh haircut enhanced his fine dark eyes, just like the perfect frame could anchor a painting.
“The ambulance is here,” he said. “There are provisions in the wagon for you—clean clothes and the like—or we can start out on our journey immediately, if you’d rather.”
“I’m ready.” She had no bags to pack, no items to gather. Only plans to make once she reached civilization.
She followed him outside where, among the Indians, a knot of troopers stood, each wrapped in his own overcoat. Only Jack was missing his.
“Your coat.” She pulled it off her shoulders before the soldiers noticed. “Did you give it to me last night? I don’t remember. You must be freezing.”
His smile was genuine. “I don’t mind.”
Hattie didn’t miss the look between Coyote and Spotted Hawk. Whatever they were saying amused them greatly. She lifted her chin and threw the coat around her shoulders again. She would follow Jack’s lead. He knew how to act here.
The chief stood to the side with the boy from the night before. The boy was dressed warm for traveling, and there was a bedroll on the spirited black pony that paced behind him. From the sorrow on his face and the solemn looks of those around him, Hattie felt that a farewell was in progress.
Jack escorted her to the wagon as she asked, “Is he going with us?”
“The chief has decided to let his nephew, Tom Broken Arrow, attend the Arapaho school at Darlington.” Jack stopped at the wagon and offered her a hand. “I hope his decision will encourage more of the parents to send their children.”
Jack and school. So he hadn’t changed that much after all. She looked around at the Indians, still amazed that Jack was at ease in such a dangerous situation. She would probably never see any of the Indians again, and she had something she needed to say.
“May I borrow the use of your interpreter?” she asked.
Jack’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “As long as you behave yourself,” he said. “Remember, these people saved your life.”
After a word of explanation, Coyote bowed to her, then followed her to Spotted Hawk and a group of the women who had cleaned her up for the banquet the night before.
Spotted Hawk watched Hattie’s approach with eyes just like her namesake. Hattie twisted her hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that you were trying to help me. I would have never acted like that if I had.”
Her scowl softened as Coyote translated. With a quick nod, Spotted Hawk’s words bubbled up faster than baking soda in vinegar.
“Next time you meet, you will be friends,” Coyote translated. “She wishes blessings on you and the lieutenant.”
Hattie’s jaw tightened. Were outlaws likely to cross their path on the way back to the fort? Was that why they needed blessings? That reminded her of others she owed gratitude. She’d fought them tooth and nail, but the men who’d rescued her on the prairie had done her a good turn.
Coyote passed her thanks on to the men and finally the chief. Then, having done her duty and made amends, Hattie was more than eager to get into the wagon and be on her way.
Jack lowered the gate of the ambulance wagon for her and, without waiting for permission, picked her up and set her inside. The old Jack Hennessey might have worn her out with his advice and lectures, but he never would have touched her. This new one took some getting used to, but she wouldn’t be around long enough for that.
“Thank you for doing what you did back there,” he said. “I’ve worked for years to convince them that we can trust each other. An apology goes a long way.”
Hattie took a seat inside the canvased wagon on the padded bench made for invalids before sizing up her escort. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Jack Hennessey.”
His jaw slid over in a crooked smile as he closed the gate. “There always was.”
Jack should have been scanning the horizon with his men and watching for danger, but he couldn’t stop jogging back to the end of the column to look after the ambulance.
Hattie Walker. He was taking Hattie Walker to Fort Reno with him. Once they reached the property, she would become his commander’s responsibility, but he couldn’t get over the surprise. One thing did bother him, though. He’d told Major Adams about his girl back home. But he hadn’t told Major Adams everything, like how she’d never actually been his girl back home. He needed to make sure his major didn’t let something slip that would embarrass him. All that jesting he’d done at Daniel’s expense when he and Louisa were courting was starting to look like a bad idea.
Private Morris rode up to him.
“What is it, Private?” Jack asked.
“The lady, sir.” Morris motioned back to the wagon. “She asked me to give you your coat. Said you looked cold.”
Jack squinted at the ambulance cover, but it was drawn up tight. It was probably cozy in there. He thought of gallantly refusing the coat but decided it would gain him nothing. Besides, a shivering man didn’t cut as fine a figure as a caped hero. He put the coat on and thanked the private. He should check in on her and see if she’d forgotten her eternal gratitude yet.
After getting his cape secured, he circled around to the back of the wagon and knocked on the frame beneath the canvas cover. It lifted, and Hattie’s tired face peeked out.
“Are you sure you’re warm?” He’d gotten his horse close enough to get out of the wind.
“It’s comfortable in here,” she said. “How long until we reach the fort?”
“It’ll be suppertime. No more cook fires and sleeping outside. You’ve had enough of that.” Although why was he in such a hurry to get her back? Then he’d have to say good-bye. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were you going to do in Colorado?”
“I was going to paint the Rocky Mountains. It’s part of my training.”
“And your parents let you travel alone?” He lost sight of her when the wagon hit a rut and she bounced out of view.
“I was supposed to be safe on the stagecoach until I arrived in Denver, and then one of their friends was providing me with board.”
Jack shook his head. Her poor parents would be frantic with worry when she failed to appear. “Do you realize how fortunate you are?” he asked. “Surviving the stagecoach attack was one thing, but you could’ve easily frozen out there on the prairie if White Horse hadn’t found you.” He didn’t want to chide her, but his blood curdled when he thought of the danger she’d been in.
“I had to get away,” she said. “Mother and Father are adamant that I get married, but I haven’t had a chance to see what I can do with my painting yet. That’s why I’m going to Colorado. You probably think I’m foolish, but I’m not about to get shackled to whatever man befriends Father this year. I’m too young to give up my painting.”
“You’re my age,” he said, and Jack thought twenty-four was rather late for matrimony.
“Exactly. You’re doing what you want to do, so why can’t I?”
He didn’t have an answer for that, besides reflecting on the opinion his mother had always held that Miss Hattie Walker was a spoiled child who would cause someone a heap of trouble. Jack had always argued with his mother. Hattie was funny and kind, but he did have to admit that she was fond of having her way.
“Are you going on to Colorado from here?” he asked.
The tiredness came back to her eyes. “My purse is gone. My money and my bags were stolen. If I tell my parents, do you think they’d make me come straight home?”
“I would,” Jack said. Then, at her woebegone expression, he added, “You have plenty of thinking time before we reach the fort. Maybe you’ll come up with a plan.” With a tip of his hat, he rode back to the front of the column where he belonged.
Her dismissal of marriage had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Conversations with Hattie had never gone the way he wanted.
Tom Broken Arrow rode even with the troopers, his proud heritage apparent in his face. Jack thought about asking him if he needed anything but stopped, because even if by chance the boy could understand him, he wouldn’t appreciate being looked after like a child. Instead Jack rode next to Coyote.
“Let me know the next time there’s a neniiseekuuthi’ ceremony,” Jack said. “That was very impressive.”
Coyote grinned. “The people were impressed by you, my friend.”
“Me? What’d I do?”
“Before the ceremony, Miss Walker was an angry she-cat, clawing and spitting at everyone who came near. But after one night with you”—he wagged his eyebrows—“she came out as calm as a doe.”
Jack nearly choked. “Miss Walker . . . well, that was a misunderstanding. She was scared out of her wits and didn’t know they were trying to help her. She just needed someone to explain it to her.”
“You are a very persuasive man, Lieutenant Hennessey, but I don’t think it was your explanations that tamed her. Even you can’t negotiate that well.”
Jack had to get the ribald jokes straightened out before Coyote said the wrong thing in front of Major Adams. “The ceremony helped settle her nerves,” Jack said. “Seeing everyone there, eating, singing, praying together—that had an effect on her. It was a very nice ceremony.” He shouldn’t have let Coyote leave them in the tepee alone all night, and he hoped that decision wouldn’t come back to haunt him. The last thing he wanted was a reprimand in Miss Walker’s company.
“We weren’t sure she understood what was happening until she gave you her earring,” Coyote said.
The earring? Jack had recovered people from the tribes before and had never had an exchange ceremony like that. Then again, he’d never requested one. As much as he was enjoying his time with Hattie, Jack couldn’t wait to get back to his office and record the events of this mission. There was much to ruminate on.
“And for the first time, I feel like Chief Right Hand is agreeable to the school idea,” Jack said. “I can’t believe he sent Tom to Darlington. That’s progress.”
Coyote nodded. “He told you all along that they didn’t trust a bachelor to advise them on their children. That once you became a married man, then you’d take the responsibility more seriously.”
“Yes, I’ve heard it a dozen times, but why now? Why . . .” Jack looked over his shoulder at Tom, who rode in front of the ambulance. Had Chief Right Hand gotten the wrong idea? Did he think that Jack and Hattie were planning matrimony? “I have no plans for marriage,” he said.
Coyote’s perfect teeth flashed in a grin. “Too late, friend. She’s yours.”
“Oh, no. While I think Miss Walker is a fine lady, I’m delivering her to the fort, and then she’s going on to . . . well, somewhere else. She has plans.”
“You would allow that?” Jack had seen Coyote in some tight situations before, but he’d never seen him so surprised. The Arapaho man leaned forward over the neck of his horse and spoke in a shocked whisper. “You would allow your wife to abandon you and go on to some other man?”
“She’s not my wife,” Jack said. “Look, I know her from home, and yes, I do admire her, but I have no intention of marrying her.”
“She is your wife. The neniiseekuuthi’ ceremony—”
“Is a prisoner transfer. The chief placed her into my keeping.” Why did he have to explain this to Coyote? Shouldn’t Coyote know such things?
But Coyote was no longer smiling. He looked concerned. “He prayed over you, and you exchanged gifts. You ate from the same bowl. The contract is sealed.”
“That’s not right. You don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand?” Coyote rolled his eyes to the dark, low clouds scudding about overhead. “You are telling me that I don’t understand my own people?”
Jack’s frustration was rising. Coyote had never carried a jest this far. Checking to make sure that none of his men could hear the conversation, Jack leaned toward Coyote.
“If you’re laughing at me, then I appreciate the humor. Very funny. But you’d better start telling me the truth. That’s an order.”
“This is the truth,” Coyote said. “I’ve been to many weddings in my tribe. Everything was done according to custom. The chief even added the prayers that the white missionaries taught us. You are wed.”
Jack could no longer feel the cold, but he felt like he’d just caught a cannonball in the chest.
Him, wed to Hattie? Hattie, the woman who would leave her home and travel across Indian Territory rather than face marriage, was unknowingly married to him?
Of all the stupid things. Stupid. Stupid. Despite Jack’s extensive vocabulary, all he could manage as he scolded himself was stupid.
“I didn’t ask for a wedding,” he said. “They can’t do this to me.”
More importantly, they couldn’t do it to her. What would Hattie say? Jack ground his teeth. Married? He couldn’t face her. She’d be so angry, so disappointed in him. He had to come up with a plan. He had to cover his mistake and make sure that Hattie never, ever learned of it. She might claim that her gratitude was eternal, but Jack knew Hattie would be horrified to find that the Indians considered her to be his wife—Mrs. Jack Hennessey.
The weight of dread fell on him, heavy as a boulder. He’d been so proud that he was the one to rescue her, but he’d bungled it horribly. He had to get her on a stagecoach and out of Indian Territory before she heard. If Coyote would keep it to himself for a few days, then Jack could deal with the consequences once Hattie was gone.
The smartest man at the fort, and he hadn’t realized he’d been celebrating his own wedding.