A Journey of the Heart Collection (35 page)

He nodded again. “Yes, I know. But at least you're among friends. And I'm sure in a fort full of eligible men, you could find a father for your baby if you wished.”

“I'm not interested in marrying again,” she whispered. The doctor raised his eyebrows at her answer, and she laid a hand on his arm. “You've been very kind. How long will the sickness last?”

“Hard to say.” He stood and began to put his things back in his bag. “It could only be for a few weeks or a few months. If you're really unlucky, it could last your entire pregnancy. But most women find it subsides after four or five weeks.” He gestured at the crackers in her hand. “Those usually help if you keep some beside your bed and nibble on them before you even get out of bed. I would suggest you stay in
bed today—you've had quite a shock, and I can see it's upset you. If you need me again, just send one of the men for me.” He patted her hand. “At least you won't be alone any longer. God knows best, my dear.” With a final pat he hurried away.

Emmie closed her eyes and a few tears slipped out from under her lashes. It was easy for him to say that God knew best. The doctor wasn't alone in the world. She had no means of supporting herself, let alone a baby. What was she going to do? Rand and Sarah wouldn't throw her out, but she was supposed to be here to help Sarah, not be an additional burden on her friends who'd been so kind. She had no skills, no resources. She shuddered from the hopelessness of her situation.

Why did she ever have to meet Monroe?

She turned her head as Sarah and Amelia hurried into her tent. Amelia looked as anxious as Sarah did, and Emmie felt a wave of love for both friends. They truly did care about her. She didn't know why they should, but they did, and she was grateful to both of them.

“What did the doctor say?” Sarah laid a cool hand on Emmie's forehead.

Emmie bit her lip. There was no use trying to keep it from them. “I'm going to have a baby.”

Sarah's eyes widened and she gaped before she recovered her composure. “Oh, that's wonderful! You'll never be alone again. When?”

“May.”

Never alone.
She hadn't thought of what a difference a baby would make.

Sarah handed her a crust of bread. “A baby would have made Monroe adore you even more. I'm sorry he's not going to meet his child. But you'll be a wonderful mother, Emmie. The best. And your baby will love you even more than Monroe did.”

Amelia clapped her hands in delight. “It will be such fun for us to raise our babies together. We'll have all kinds of good advice for you by the time the wee one arrives.”

Emmie was grateful for the way they were hiding the dismay they both must have felt. “I'll be fine in a day or two, and I promise not to be a bother, Sarah. I'm supposed to be helping you.”

“Oh, pishposh, I don't need any help. I just needed company. You'll be even better company now that you know what we're going through.”

“But what will Rand say?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah seemed genuinely puzzled. “What could he say? He loves kids.” She fluffed up Emmie's pillow and pushed her down against it. “Now you just quit your fretting and get some rest. Everything is going to be just fine. You'll see.”

Emmie allowed herself to be tucked into the quilts and furs as the fire in the stove threw out welcome warmth and cheeriness. She didn't know what the future might hold, but with friends like the Campbells, it would surely be all right.

But this would end any interest Isaac might have in her.

ONE

O
CTOBER
1866, F
ORT
P
HIL
K
EARNY
, W
YOMING
T
ERRITORY

P
regnant and unmarried.

Emmie Croftner mulled her condition over as she lay snuggled in her quilts. The prairie wind howled around the tent, and snow drifted through the cracks in the tent and collected in piles around her.

She'd thought nothing could be worse than Monroe's death, then his
real
wife had shown up. This was infinitely worse.

She wasn't sure how her best friend's husband, Rand Campbell, would treat her after hearing the news, but over the days that followed Emmie had found that he treated her no differently than he always had. He was just as solicitous of her as he was of his wife, Sarah. He truly did not seem to mind the change in the bargain they'd struck.

Had he told Isaac Liddle? She thought it likely since Isaac hadn't stopped by as much as usual. She threw back the covers, and her bare feet landed in snow. She didn't care if he came by or not. All men were fickle at best and treacherous at worst. She'd been certain his interest wouldn't survive her devastating news.

“Emmie?” Rand's voice came from the other side of the tent. “Our permanent quarters in Officers' Row are ready to move into. I have some soldiers out here ready to transfer our belongings.”

“Coming!” Emmie jerked her flannel nightgown over her head and quickly donned her wool dress and boots. She grabbed her cloak and buttoned it around her before lifting the flap on the tent and joining Sarah.

Already dressed for the blustery late-October weather at Fort Phil Kearny, Sarah turned with a bright smile. Her red-gold hair sprang free from its
bun and circled her face. “I'll be so glad to get in a real house. No stepping in snow tomorrow morning.”

Several soldiers sidled in with a shy glance at the women. They hefted crates to their shoulders and hauled them out of the tent. Emmie and Sarah followed them across the fort's parade ground to the sounds of the fort band practicing in the single officers' quarters. Emmie spared a glance toward the hills that rose around the little fort in a picturesque panorama.

The cold wind practically blew them into their new home. Emmie shut the door behind Sarah and turned to survey the cabin. It was similar in layout to what they'd left behind in Fort Laramie but smaller in size. The pine boards still oozed sap and smelled of newly milled lumber. The fresh plaster walls looked clean but stark, with no trim around the windows or floor. The kitchen was bare of accessories but serviceable and clean. Emmie was so glad to be out of the tent, she didn't care how it looked.

“It's plain, I know, but I'll knock together a dry sink and corner cupboard as soon as I can.” Rand took off his hat, and the sunlight through the window gleamed on his brown hair.

The door opened and snow swirled through
it, then it was shut again. “Already done, partner.” Isaac's mustache quivered above his grin as he set a sturdy sawhorse down against the wall. “Be right back.” He stepped outside and returned with another one, which he placed a couple of feet away from the first. Then he brought in four rough wood planks and laid them over the sawhorses. “This is the very latest in Fort Phil's kitchen decor. All the best-dressed kitchens have one. And I have it on the best authority that it makes a dandy ironing board as well.”

Sarah ran to hug him. “Isaac, you darling!”

His blue eyes danced above his reddened cheeks, and he winked at Emmie. “Don't I get a hug from you too?”

Heat rushed to Emmie's cheeks. He hadn't shown his face for days and now he showed up talking about hugs. “Maybe when we get the chairs.” She flushed again when he laughed.

“I'll hold you to it,” he chuckled as he walked away.

Emmie delighted in helping Sarah fix up their tiny home over the next few days. They begged some wool blankets from the quartermaster and tacked them
together to make rugs for the parlor and bedroom floors as well as for the small area in the hall that was partitioned off for Emmie. Rand came in with a triumphant smile with his booty of blue gingham for curtains and tablecloths. With Sarah's little knick-knacks around, the place looked very homey. Several of the other ladies were very friendly and stopped by with invitations to tea and some small offerings of household items.

Emmie dried her hands on a towel and put the last plate away. “I think I'll go for a walk. The wind isn't blowing too hard for a change. I'm going crazy cooped up inside. Want to come along?”

Sarah shook her head. “I don't think so. Rand tore his britches on some cactus yesterday, and I promised I'd mend them. Why don't you ask Isaac or one of the other officers to escort you? Any of them would jump at the chance.”

Emmie shied away from the thought of Isaac. “I don't mind going alone.” She had tried to avoid him ever since he brought by the camp chairs for the kitchen while she was taking their laundry to Soapsuds Row two days ago. She hoped he'd forgotten all about her forward comment.

The sun was beginning to go down, and the reds and golds touched the tops of the hills around the fort. The cold evening air felt invigorating, but Emmie shivered as wolves howled outside the stockade. She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as she strolled along the sawdust path in front of the officers' quarters. She decided to wander in the direction of the front of the stockade.

A tall figure came toward her. “Mind if I join you?”

She flinched back before she recognized Isaac's face. “There's really no need. I'm perfectly all right. I just wanted a walk.” Her pulse quickened.

“I could use a chance to stretch my legs myself.” He fell into step beside her. “Did you have someplace special in mind to go, or shall we just look in some windows?”

She chuckled in spite of herself, then glanced at him hesitantly. He probably wouldn't let her do what she planned. “I know Rand said to stay away from the stockade perimeter, but I wish I could climb up in the blockhouse and look out over the wall for just a minute. I'm so tired of seeing the same things day after day. I haven't been outside the confines of this fort in weeks.”

Isaac was silent for a minute. Emmie shivered again as she heard a pack of wolves howl off to her right, but he relaxed at the sound. “Those are real wolves and not Indians. I guess it wouldn't hurt for just a minute. But you have to promise to get away from the wall the minute I say we have to leave.”

“I promise.” She resisted the urge to squeal from excitement. He was really going to take her.