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She felt her knees go weak at the thought of facing the colonel. Yet she could not allow herself to think that she should not have came to the fort. It was for David that she was there.
She had to hope the colonel would understand about her having been taken captive, that she’d had no choice about what to wear.
“In here, ma’am,” the soldier said as he opened the door to the cabin. “Our commander is Colonel William Downing.”
Mary Beth nodded a quiet thank you and walked past him and into the cabin. He followed her in.
As she entered, she became aware of a thick smell of cigar smoke that hung in the air like fog all around the room.
Through the smoke she saw a husky, clean-shaven man sitting in full uniform, with resplendent gold epaulets, at a huge oak desk at the far side of the room. He had a thick crop of sandy-colored hair, and he appeared to be around forty years of age.
A lone kerosene lamp sat at one side of the colonel’s desk, which was littered with papers, journals, and folders. Scarce light filtered through the haze of dust on the two windows in the room.
“What have we here?” Colonel Downing asked, slowly rising from his chair.
He took a thick cigar from his mouth and rested it on the edge of an ashtray. His gaze swept quickly over Mary Beth as she stood rigidly just inside the door.
“Sir, she came on horseback, alone,” the soldier said after saluting the colonel. He now stood with his arms stiffly at his sides.
“Alright,” the colonel growled out. “Dismissed.”
The soldier saluted, then swung around and hurried from the cabin.
“Who in the hell are you and what in the hell are you doin’ in those clothes?” Colonel Downing asked as he came from behind the desk.
His hands clasped behind him, he made a slow turn around Mary Beth, his eyes raking slowly over her. “Injun attire, eh?” he grumbled. “That surely means you’ve been with Injuns.”
He stepped in front of her and looked her directly in the eye. “So, ma’am, the next question is . . . why are you dressed like that? And where are those you were with now?”
“My name is Mary Beth Wilson,” she gulped out. “My husband was Major Lloyd Wilson. He was killed in the Battle of the Little Big Horn along with so many who were stationed at Fort Kitt. I was among those who were on their way to your fort when . . . the wagon train . . . was . . . attacked. Surely you know about that already, especially the results of the Indian ambush. I have no idea how many were killed that day, for . . . for . . . I was taken captive by a renegade, and so was my son David.”
“Yes, I know about those who died,” Colonel Downing said, his voice drawn. “All of them died. All of them.”
His eyebrows rose. “Yet you say you survived, as did your son,” he said, kneading his chin. “Mighty lucky, wouldn’t you say?”
Mary Beth was first horrified by the news that everyone she had known on the wagon train was dead, then offended, for the colonel seemed to be implying something quite nasty.
“Lucky?” she squeezed out. “Do you call being abducted by renegades lucky? Do you call seeing my son stolen by a renegade lucky? Sir, I have died a thousand deaths inside my heart since I saw my son abducted.”
“Renegades, eh?” he said. “So it was renegades who did the killing and who lent you Injun attire, huh?”
“Yes, it was renegades who did the ghastly deed, but no, it was not a renegade who brought me safely to the fort,” Mary Beth said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I was rescued by a friendly Crow chief and his warriors. You know of him. Chief Brave Wolf. He took me in. His women gave me clothes to wear. They were generous in all ways to me. It was Chief Brave Wolf who escorted me close enough to the fort today so that I’d be safe. He has left to return to his village.”
She hoped that the colonel wouldn’t see the blush she felt on her cheeks, for she could not help thinking about those wondrous, precious moments alone with Brave Wolf.
She had to make certain this colonel and his soldiers never discovered her true feelings for Brave Wolf, not until she had achieved her goal here. Then she would return to Brave Wolf and become his wife.
Then the whole world could know. She would be proud to say that he was her husband, although she knew how the white community would feel about it.
To her own people she would be worse than whores that sold their bodies to men.
Yes, she must make certain no one guessed her secret while she was trying to get help in finding David.
“And so it was Chief Brave Wolf who escorted you here, eh?” the colonel said, going back to his chair and sitting down. He gestured with a hand toward a chair beside his desk. “Sit.”
She moved almost defiantly into the chair, her back stiff as she sat facing the colonel.
“Sir, my son is the reason I am here,” she said, her voice as tight as before. “As I told you, he was abducted, but by a different renegade than I was.”
