the journey in peace and quiet. Afternoon shadows began to gather as the ambulance stopped, and Major Randolph opened the door to look out. He opened the door wider. “The bridge is almost done.”
As she looked out the door, interested, the major left the ambulance to speak with a corporal wearing a carpenter’s apron. The cold defeated her, so she closed the door, only to have the post surgeon open it and gesture to her. Captain Dunklin muttered something, but did not wake.
“We’ll walk, but the driver will take Captain Dunklin across.”
She looked down dubiously at the frozen water under the few planks that spanned the bridge.
“You’re looking at the only iron bridge between Chicago and San Francisco. It will be the only bridge across the Platte, so it opens up the Black Hills from Cheyenne. Say goodbye to the buffalo and Indians. Here comes the gold rush.”
She took his gloved hand and crossed the river. When they were safely across, the corporal waved to the driver and he crossed.
“Of course, I can also say goodbye to drownings from the ferry,” the post surgeon said. “I hate those. Up you get. Next stop is Fort Laramie and your cousin.”
“I wish I could see more,” she grumbled, as the ambulance trundled along.
“Nothing simpler,” the major said. “You pull on that cord and I’ll pull this one. Makes it frigid in here but maybe we ought to revive the captain.”
“We’re coming in behind the shops and warehouses,” the major said. He pointed to the hill. “There’s my hospital, still standing. A good sign, when you leave a contract surgeon in charge.”
They came over the brow of the hill and Fort Laramie sprawled below. In the light of late afternoon, more forgiving than the glare of midday, the fort was a shabby jumble of wooden, adobe and brick buildings.
“Why is everything painted red?” she asked.
“Apparently some earlier commander noted in a memo to Washington that the old girl was looking shabby. Next thing you know, there was a gigantic shipment of what we call quartermaster red. For reasons known to God alone, we also have a monstrous supply of raisins. Welcome to the U.S. Army.”
Chapter Four
“It’s so shabby,” Susanna said. “This is it?”
Joe laughed, which made Captain Dunklin flutter open his eyes. “As forts go, Fort Laramie is old. Forts out here are built for expediency, not permanence. When Lo is on reservations and the frontier shifts, this old dame will disappear.” He pointed to a row of houses. “We’ll let out Captain Dunklin first.”
The ambulance slowed, then stopped in front of an adobe double house. Captain Dunklin croaked out his thanks as the post surgeon helped him from the ambulance.
Susanna watched with interest as doors opened along Officers Row. On the other side of the largest building on the row, she thought she saw her cousin standing on a porch. She squinted, impatient with her bad eye.
The post surgeon shook his head when he rejoined her. “Captain Dunklin thinks he’s on his deathbed. Mrs. Dunklin is sobbing. Who knew he was so susceptible to diseases of the imagination?”
The ambulance continued down the row, passing the largest building.
“That is Old Bedlam, built almost thirty years ago.”
“Old Bedlam?”
“It’s been used as a headquarters, officers’ apartments, but most often as quarters for bachelor officers, hence the name.”
She wondered what the building with its elegant porch and balcony would look like, painted sensible white. To her Eastern eyes, Old Bedlam was grandiose and totally out of place, even painted red. “Do you live there?”
“No. Rank hath its privilege. I am two doors down from your cousin, in quarters with six rooms, as befits a major. I know. It hardly seems fair I should have so much space—two rooms more than Captain Reese—but I use one room as my clinic for women and children. Ah. There is Emily Reese.”
He helped Susanna from the ambulance. The Reeses lived in one half of a duplex, with what looked like a half floor above. Susanna stood beside him, gazing up at her cousin, whom she had not seen since Emily’s wedding five years ago.
Emily Reese was as pretty as Susanna remembered, with the family blond hair. Uncertain, Susanna stood where she was, expecting her cousin to come down the few steps to welcome her. As she waited, she felt dread settle around her.
Major Randolph seemed to sense her discomfort. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the porch. Susanna saw the door on the other half of the duplex open and a lady with red hair step onto the porch, smiling more of a welcome than Emily. Susanna smiled at the other lady, who gave a small wave, then stepped back inside her own quarters, closing the door quietly. Someone is glad to see me, Susanna thought. Too bad it is not my cousin.
“Mrs. Reese, here is your cousin,” the major said. “You should invite her in.”
It was gently said, and seemed to rouse Emily to do more than stand there. She came no closer, but took Susanna’s hand when she and the major climbed the steps.
“So good to see you,” Emily murmured.
I wish you meant that, Susanna told herself. “It’s good to see you, Emily,” she said, wanting to shake off her well-honed feeling of dread, but not sure how. “I appreciate this opportunity you have given me.”
She wondered how long her cousin would have kept them on the porch, if Major Randolph hadn’t taken matters into his own hands and opened the door. “Emily, you’ll catch your death out here,” he chided, as though she needed reminding.
Once inside her own house, Emily Reese took charge. She indicated that the ambulance driver should take Susanna’s luggage upstairs.
The major took Susanna’s hand. “I’ll leave you two now. Good night.”
Susanna was left with her cousin. Take a deep breath and begin, she told herself, smiling her company smile at her cousin.
“It’s good to see you, Emily,” she said. “I hope …” Actually, I wish you would look me in the eye, she thought in alarm. What now? “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Five years,” her cousin said, making no move to take the overcoat that Susanna had removed.
Embarrassed, Susanna cleared her throat. “Emily, where should I hang this?”
Emily opened a narrow door under the stairs. “Next to the mop. I’m sorry we haven’t more pegs in the hallway, but the captain’s overcoat and hat take up room.”
Susanna nodded, amused to hear her cousin-in-law, Daniel Reese, referred to as “the captain.” She wondered if Emily was equal to a little tease about relegating relatives to the broom closet, and decided she was not.
When Emily just stood there, Susanna prodded a little more. “Where did you have the private take my belongings?”
“Upstairs. Let me show you where you’ll be staying.” Emily smiled her own company smile. “Come along. It isn’t much.”
Emily was right; it wasn’t much, just a space behind an army blanket at the end of the little hall. At least I have a place to stay, Susanna reminded herself as she and her cousin stood on the small landing. One bedroom door was open, and she looked in, charmed to see her little cousin, Stanley, stacking blocks, his back to the door.
She glanced at Emily, pleased to see some expression on her face now, as she admired her son.
“Stanley is four now,” Emily whispered.
“I’m certain we will get along famously,” Susanna assured her, thinking of