Sawbones (28 page)

“Five hundred dollars?”

“I told you they were rich.”

“I cannot believe you've evaded capture for as long as you have. You probably won't for much longer.” He walked around the room, thinking.

“Pope knows. He showed me my Wanted poster. I told Harriet last night.”

He stopped. “What did she say?”

“Nothing about New York. She asked me if I was in love with you.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. I asked her the same question.”

“Are you?”

“With the charm offensive I've been under since the moment we met, how can I not be?”

He grinned, took me in his arms, and kissed me so hungrily I knew we would soon be on the desk again if I didn't slow him down. I pulled away and said, rather breathlessly, “I take that to mean the feeling is mutual.”

“Yes.” He tried to kiss me again but I turned my head away. “It will be dawn soon.”

“Which is why you need to let me kiss you again.”

“No. We need a plan for later.”

“Once on the train to Saint Louis, you will travel as Mrs. William Kindle. No one will ever associate that name with Catherine Bennett, especially since no one here knows of our relationship. When you're on the train, and while you are in Saint Louis, whatever you do, do not practice medicine. I will give you enough money to last you until I arrive.”

“William…”

“Don't argue with me, Catherine. When I arrive in Saint Louis, we'll get married immediately, then decide where we go from there. Listen carefully to me. I want you to think long and hard while you are traveling about giving up medicine. Shh.” He placed his fingers on my lips. “Don't interrupt until I've finished. I only say it because as long as you are a practicing doctor you're in danger. You know I'm right, Catherine. I will always be there to protect you but I don't want to live our lives always moving. Promise me you will think of it.”

“You still want to marry me?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Are you absolutely sure you are aware of what you're taking on by marrying me?”

“I have a fairly good idea.”

I walked back toward the desk, pulling him with me.

“Does this mean we're done planning?”

“I feel guilty for using Harriet's desk. We broke her lamp.”

“I'll bring a lamp from my quarters.”

“Good idea. But—”

“The longer you talk, the less time we have.”

“Excellent point.”

We came together urgently, knowing it might be weeks until we were alone again, and lost ourselves in each other until the sun peeked over the horizon.

Before dawn, as Kindle and I were rearranging our clothes for the second time, the downpour from the night before finally exhausted itself. The morning met us with a light drizzle that dusted shoulders, hats, horses, and saddles with tiny droplets of water.

I followed Murphy and Sullivan, who carried my trunks, out of the hospital and was astonished to see a group of people waiting on the front porch to bid me good-bye. Caro stood by herself, off to the side. I walked to her first.

“Good-bye, Caro. Thank you for everything.”

She took my hand and squeezed. “I hope we meet again, someday.”

“So do I.”

Murphy and Sullivan, hats in hand, each bade me good-bye with warmth and a tinge of embarrassment. Corporal Martin thanked me again for the shelves and gave me another bottle of syrup, and Waterman said it had been a pleasure to work with me.

“Good luck, Dr. Elliston,” Ezra said, without meeting my eyes.

“Thank you, Dr. Kline.”

Alice stood with her husband next to his horse. Wallace Strong kissed Alice on the cheek, whispered something in her ear, which brought out her blush, and mounted his bay. She caught my eye, and with a pleased smile, nodded her thanks to me.

Harriet moved forward and held out an envelope. “With Lieutenant Colonel Foster's compliments.”

Holding the envelope, I was struck by its lightness, how inconsequential it was in my hand, though I knew inside held a recommendation with the power to silence all suspicions of my identity. “From General Sherman?”

“Yes.”

I suppose I shouldn't have been offended at Foster's absence, but still I bristled at the snub. As if reading my mind, Harriet said, “Lieutenant Colonel Foster is under the weather this morning.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “His gout is acting up. Too much wine the other night.”

“Thank him for me.”

“I will.”

Standing awkwardly with Harriet, I realized how little I knew about her. Almost from the moment I'd met her, our relationship had been antagonistic. I had dismissed her as a bitter woman and hadn't taken the time to get to know her. Our conversation after the dinner party made me wonder if I hadn't judged Harriet too harshly; if I had been in a different frame of mind could we have, if not been friends, at least found a level of mutual respect? When I held out my hand to her, she surprised me by pulling me into a strong embrace.

“Good-bye, Catherine. Your secret is safe with me.”

She released me as quickly as she embraced me, and without meeting my eyes, walked away through the drizzle.

I glanced around in a panic.
Did anyone else hear what she said?
Everyone smiled in ignorance, though Ezra furrowed his brow in question.

“Dr. Elliston?” Kindle motioned to the wagon holding my trunks. In a daze, I walked down the hospital steps and climbed up next to the teamster. The regimental band struck up “The Girl I Left Behind Me” and two companies of cavalry and my supply wagon left Fort Richardson.

It was miserable and slow going. The muddy roads and swollen creeks meant the cavalry spent most of their time walking their horses and pushing and pulling the supply wagon out of the mud. When we reached the Red River—which I'll admit to doubting more than once—Kindle's company would head west to patrol for Indians. The remainder would cross the Red into Indian Territory and complete the short journey to Fort Sill.

During those three days together on the trail Kindle and I were civil but distant. The two companies were small enough that any partiality between us would be noticed. There is nothing more observant than a bored soldier on patrol. We used my gun as an excuse to be alone. Each night Kindle worked with me on shooting and caring for my gun. As ruses to be alone went, it was rather inspired, I thought. Kindle could justify standing behind me, touching me, bending his head to speak in my ear. We worked until darkness made seeing impossible, cherishing these fleeting moments more with the knowledge we were going to be separated for weeks.

I pulled the hammer back and fired. The bottle I aimed at shattered.

“Nice shot,” Kindle said. He picked up more empty bottles and walked to the tree stump. “Reload.”

I opened the cylinder and removed five bullets from my holster. When he returned he said, “Remember, only keep four bullets in your gun. Carry it on an empty chamber.”

“Yes, but this is target practice and I plan on teaching those five bottles a lesson they won't soon forget.”

Kindle stood behind me, pulled me back against him. The memory of our night together made me lose a bit of my bravado and playfulness.

He lifted my arm holding the gun. “Aim and fire.”

I did, shattering another bottle. “You might be a better shot than I,” he said.

I looked up at him over my shoulder and smiled. “Stationary bottles have no chance. Let's hope I never have to shoot a moving target.” I stared down the barrel of the gun again. I dropped my arm. I couldn't get Harriet's strange behavior out of my mind. “If Harriet knew who I was, why did she let me leave?”

“Harriet is not the shrew you think she is.”

“I don't think she's a shrew. But, she didn't like me in the least when we met.”

“I think she admired you very much.”

I raised my arm and aimed. “
Admired
is a strong word. She at least didn't think the worst of me in the end, I suppose,” I said, and another bottle exploded. I dropped my hand, but Kindle didn't move from behind me. “I've been meaning to ask: Did you find the man from the hotel?”

“By the time I returned to town, he was gone. It isn't the first time I've thought I've seen my brother. It takes a certain personality to survive in the West, a degree of insanity that makes many men resemble my brother at his worst. He's dead. I buried him in Maryland seven years ago.”

“You see your brother everywhere you go, just as I see bounty hunters around every corner. We are safe now and can stop looking over our shoulders.”

We arrived at the swollen Red River the afternoon of the third day, the first day of clear skies on our march. With no clouds on the horizon, Kindle decided to camp on the southern bank for the night to give the river time to recede before half of our group crossed the next day.

With speed and precision, Kindle's regiment created camp from what appeared to be the shirts off their backs. Once the horses were watered, fed, unsaddled, and picketed the men turned to their own comfort, which didn't amount to much on a short patrol such as this. The goal was to travel light and fast. The men slept out of doors and ate rations of hardtack and salt pork and drank their daily allotment of whisky. A few fires were made to ward off the chill of the late-spring evening.

Kindle, Beau, Strong, and I shared a fire. The officers, typically, socialized little with their men. Enlisted men were required to ask the NCOs for permission to speak to the officers. Some officers, like Strong, took this separation to an extreme, talking to their soldiers only when giving orders. Kindle, on the other hand, went around to his men nightly and spoke to them, usually of inconsequential things. His demeanor was not familiar, he still held himself apart, but it was obvious his men held him in high esteem for the efforts he made.

He and Beau had returned from their circuit of the camp when I accosted him about his health.

“Now that you have spoken with every man in your company you must take a moment to speak to me.”

“It will be a much more pleasant conversation, I'm sure.”

“Don't count on it. I mean to give you strict instructions on your future rehabilitation.”

“In that case, I must sit down.”

“On the contrary.” I stood. “As part of your rehabilitation, you must walk.”

Kindle shot an exasperated look at Strong and Beau. “We'll watch the fire,” Strong said.

I reviewed his treatment plan in a much louder voice than necessary. When we were out of earshot, I dropped the act. “I saw your expression.”

“Playing a part, my dear. As are you.”

We stood on the bank of the Red River, a normally wide and shallow river running deep and fast after the abundance of spring rains.

Kindle glanced back at the camp. Beau and Strong were sitting where we had left them, having an animated conversation about their baseball exploits at West Point, a common theme for the young men and one I had grown heartily tired of hearing.

“Are you sending Beau to Saint Louis?”

“Yes. After this patrol,” Kindle said. “He doesn't need to be in the field. He is too much like his mother. Soft-hearted. Easily led by stronger personalities.”

“Such as Lieutenant Strong?”

“I don't want to spend our time alone talking of junior officers.”

“What would you like to speak of?”

“How sorely my willpower has been tested the last days.”

“In what way?”

“You know very well. There are times when I wonder if our night together was a dream. Your expression never betrays our secret.”

“Doesn't it? I fear my happiness shines from every pore of my body.”

“Are you truly happy?”

“As long as I don't think of our separation, yes. I don't want you to go tomorrow.”

“Nor do I.”

“How long do you think I will be camped here with Strong's company?”

He studied the river. “It is hard to tell. A day. Maybe two.”

“Send Strong's company in your stead. Escort me to Sill.”

“I cannot disobey orders, Catherine. As much as I would like to.”

“I have this horrible suspicion I'll never see you again. You see? I would make a horrible officer's wife.”

“Yes, you would.”

“I should have stayed in Jacksboro and left for Saint Louis with you.”

“Catherine,” he said. “We agreed this is the best way. You can disappear and never have to worry about that Langton woman finding you. She will be looking for Catherine Bennett or Laura Elliston, if you're unlucky. Catherine Kindle will only mean nothing to her if everyone who knows us thinks we mean nothing to each other.”

I sighed. He was right. “I hate feeling this way.”

“I feel the same.”

I was not referring to the prospect of being separated from him, though the thought of it nauseated me. I hated feeling so weak, as if I would never be happy again unless he was near me.

“I have something for you.” He reached into his coat and removed a book. I knew what it was before he placed it in my hands.
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
.

“I read the end,” he said.

“What did you think?”

“She got her happy ending. Like we will.”

I thought of the long miserable separation the two fictional characters endured before being granted their happiness. “Come to me tonight,” I said, my voice husky with emotion.

He did not hesitate. “Yes.”

I woke to find a man in my tent, undressing.

I propped onto my elbow. “You'll have to hurry,” I whispered. “I'm expecting my fiancé any minute.”

Kindle hung his holster on the center pole, draped his coat over it, and hung his hat on top. Using his cane, he sat on the ground awkwardly and with a grunt. He lay down and exhaled. “He's in for a shock, then. I'm not sure I can get up.”

I placed my hand on his chest, over his heart. “Are you in much pain?”

“It's always worse when I ride.” He took my hand and kissed it. “I will be fine.”

“Do you want some laudanum?”

“Can't command men high on opium, though some have tried.”

“Who?”

He looked at me in the darkness. “I'm not risking my life to talk about the Army. Did you say your fiancé is a strapping man with a jealous streak?”

“No, but he hides a knife in his boot.”

Kindle turned on his side. “Enough talking.”

“Whatever else is there to do?”

Kindle's hand resting on my hip pulled my skirt up, bit by bit. I worked on the buttons on his waistcoat. “I've never considered it before, but there is almost as much clothing to get through on a man as a woman,” I whispered, working at the buttons of his breeches.

“I'm glad you've never had the occasion to consider it.”

“How do you not melt in all this heat?” The cool weather, which the rain gifted us, had changed to a suffocating humidity.

“This is balmy compared to July and August.” Kindle stopped and looked down at his hand resting on my bare hip. “You seem to be missing your bloomers, Dr. Elliston.”

I shrugged. “I thought I would make it easier on you. I see you didn't have the same consideration.”

“I took off my holster.”

“How very kind.”

Kindle inhaled sharply. “Heavens.”

“Are you going to say that every time we are intimate?”

“If it's warranted.” He stilled my hand. “I cannot get undressed,” Kindle said. “In case of attack.”

I covered Kindle's mouth with my own to quiet him. “Do not talk of attacks,” I whispered.

Kindle's hand brushed lightly up and down my bare leg. “Then let's talk of our life together.”

“Running from the Pinkertons?” I traced a finger down his scar to the cleft in his chin.

“Being Mrs. William Kindle.”

“You mean Doctor Mrs. Catherine Kindle?”

“That would mean I am the doctor and you are my wife.”

Goose bumps popped up on my legs and I flinched. “That tickles. I cannot think when you do that.”

“Hmm.” Kindle kissed me and pulled my leg over his. “I like you when you cannot think.”

“I thought you liked my mind.”

One side of Kindle's mouth curved into a smile. “The more I get to know you, the further down the list it goes.” His hand really did have a mind of its own.