Desert Hearts (20 page)

Michael met the company officers and their wives at the barracks door and led them to see the dining tables, which were laden with roasts and vegetables. On the center table were the cakes glistening with sugar and icing.

“The men wanted me to give you a very special thank you, Mrs. Woolcott,” Michael said. “They did not expect anything this year, considering your circumstances.”

“Please tell them it was just what I needed to do, Mich…Sergeant Burke.”

“I’m new to the company, but I understand your cake is always the best, Mrs. Woolcott,” he said with a smile.

“It is an old family recipe, Sergeant, which I learned from my mother. It feels good to share it with others.”

“Sure, and it is always good to carry over the old traditions into the new ones.”

“You must have had some different traditions in Ireland, Sergeant? Although perhaps they were hard to keep up when times got hard,” she added, embarrassed that she had forgotten the reason for his emigration.

“We did our best even in hard times. And on the day after Christmas, we always hunted the wren.”

“The wren?”

“On St. Stephen’s Day. Though I doubt the wren had much to do with St. Stephen. ‘Tis likely the custom goes back to pagan times. But we were always good in Ireland at keeping the old while embracing the new. The wren was our ‘king’ and he was killed and carried by the wren boys, who would beg from door to door.”

Elizabeth frowned. “You actually killed a small bird?”

“And decorated him also,” said Michael with a smile. “And sang him a song: ‘The wren, the wren, the king of all birds, St. Stephen’s Day was caught in the furze. Although he was little his honor was great, so come on, boys, and give us a treat.’ I think the idea was that though something dies, something else comes back to life. Em, something like Christ, the new King, who died to bring us eternal life.”

Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “It is hard for me to believe in resurrection just now. I can’t see anything coming out of Thomas’s death.”

“ ‘Tis hard in the moment, that I know,” said Michael with quiet sympathy. “But I wish you a joyous Christmas, Mrs. Woolcott, and a New Year of coming back to life.”

“That is a lovely wish, Sergeant Burke,” said the colonel’s wife, who came to stand next to them. “Come, Elizabeth, we must be off to our own dinner so the men can eat theirs,” she said with a smile.

* * * *

The Grays’ table was almost as laden as the enlisted men’s. The colonel always invited his bachelor officers to join them, so Lieutenant Cooper and Captain Lane were present. To her dismay, Elizabeth was seated next to Mr. Cooper and he was so kind and solicitous that she felt suffocated by his presence. He did nothing obvious, but she could feel his attention centered on her, an attention that went beyond sympathy.

They toasted Christmas and the coming year and then sang carols in the parlor. Elizabeth declined to join the chorus, saying she would rather listen, and she sat down next to Captain Lane, who confided in her he was absolutely tone-deaf, so he was sparing their ears.

She had to admit that Mr. Cooper had a fine voice and his tenor solo of “Away in a Manger” almost brought tears to her eyes. Almost, because although it was Thomas’s favorite carol, Mr. Cooper kept gazing meaningfully at her as he sang and she could not give herself over to memories of her husband with another man so obviously working himself up to attempting to fill his place. She excused herself early and escaped to her bedroom without having to do more than say a general good night to all. She was afraid if she had stayed the lieutenant would have cornered her and offered her more of his unwanted “sympathy.”

* * * *

“I think Cooper is quite interested in Elizabeth. It would provide her with a neat solution to her problems, wouldn’t it, my dear,” said the colonel as he and his wife undressed for bed. “I don’t like Cooper myself, but he is considered to be a fine-looking man. And Elizabeth would be able to stay with the army. She could do worse.”

“If she married a rattlesnake, Charles!”

“Janet!”

“Charles!” his wife exclaimed at the same time. “How can you think that just because a few of the women like Cooper’s brand of oily charm, he would be good for Elizabeth?”

“It is only that she cannot stay with us forever, Janet. And what other choice does she have?”.

“She can stay with us as long as she needs to, I hope, Charles.”

“Of course, my dear,” said her husband, getting into bed and patting the space beside him. “You know I am happy for you to have the company. It is only that I don’t imagine she will want to stay forever. She will want her own home and for that she must marry. Of course there’s Captain Lane, but he’s too old, don’t you think?”

“And a confirmed bachelor. He’ll never marry.”

“Lieutenant Falkirk?”

“Too young and he has his eye on the surgeon’s daughter.”

“Susan? She’s a mere child!”

“She’s sixteen. Only a year younger than Elizabeth when she married Thomas Woolcott.” Mrs. Gray climbed into bed and snuggled next to her husband. “No, I was thinking more of someone like Sergeant Burke.”

“Burke? But he’s only a noncommissioned officer, Janet. It would be a step down for Elizabeth.”

“I think they have formed a friendship of sorts despite the difference in rank. I don’t know what Elizabeth feels…probably nothing right now. But I have seen how the sergeant looks at her.

“The problem is, there isn’t any opportunity for them to socialize…. I wish I could think of something,” she murmured as she drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

Elizabeth got through the rest of the winter in a daze. It seemed as though some sort of veil hung between her and the rest of the world. She hardly noticed the frequency of Lieutenant Cooper’s visits and responded to him the way she responded to everyone: kindly and politely, but with her real self in reserve.

Mrs. Gray was well aware of Elizabeth’s benumbed state. She remembered the exhaustion of grief very well, for she had lost two children to the frontier, one from diphtheria, the other from a simple cut that had turned septic. The winter had been a good time for feelings to go underground. But it was time Elizabeth began to come back to life as the spring approached.

“I think it is time for a dance, Charles,” Janet Gray told her husband one evening in March. “All of us need a release from wondering whether the peace will hold and what Governor Carleton has in store for the territory.”

The colonel looked up from his book and smiled. “You always know just what the situation calls for, Janet. I will announce one for this Saturday evening.”

“For noncommissioned officers as well, Charles,” said Mrs. Gray innocently as she concentrated on her crewel work.

The colonel cleared his throat and his wife looked up at him, her sparkling eyes belying her matter-of-fact tone. “I so enjoyed my dance with Sergeant Burke, my dear, that I think it is time for another one.”

“You think it is time for Elizabeth to have a waltz with him, Janet. You can’t fool me. But Cooper has been very steady in his attentions, my dear.”

“Much too steady, Charles, although Elizabeth is in such a daze, she hardly notices. Which he, self-centered idiot that he is, probably takes as encouragement.”

“Now, Janet.”

“Now, Charles. You know it is only in the privacy of our own home that I voice these opinions. I am the perfect post commander’s wife in public.” She put down her embroidery and pushing her spectacles down her nose, looked over at him. “Seriously, Charles, I am worried about Elizabeth. I know it has not been long since Thomas’s death, but who knows what the spring and summer will bring to us? I am sure Michael Burke has some feeling for her, but what time will they have if the peace doesn’t hold? In civilian life, Elizabeth would have the luxury of a long mourning period, but the army demands something different from its women.”

* * * *

“Since spring is almost here, I think I will wear my green gown,” said the colonel’s wife over tea later that week. “Your dark blue would do very well, Elizabeth. It would be only a small step away from black and will not offend anyone’s sensibilities.”

“I don’t think I will be attending the dance, Janet,” said Elizabeth calmly.

“No one will think it improper, my dear,” said Mrs. Gray. “This is the frontier, after all, and not Boston.”

“I’m not worried about gossip,” said Elizabeth with a tired smile. “I just don’t seem to have very much energy these days.”

“Which is quite understandable. It has been a hard winter for all of us, especially you. But all the more reason to get out.”

“Well, I will think about it,” Elizabeth agreed.

* * * *

It had been a cloudy week, but Saturday dawned bright and warm and for the first time in months, Elizabeth felt a spark of energy. She slipped out the door before breakfast and, leashing Orion, went for her first walk outside the fort since Thomas’s death.

“It is good to see you out and about, Mrs. Woolcott, but don’t you go too far,” said the sergeant on guard duty.

“I am only going to walk the perimeter of the fort, Sergeant.” Which she did three times. Outside she could focus on the sage, which was slowly turning a fresh green again, and the cottonwood trees, which were coming back to life in a haze of tender new leaves. Orion pulled at his leash regularly, looking up at her longingly, waiting for her to release him.

“I
know
you want to be chasing rabbits, Orion, but not today. The colonel wants us all to stay close to the fort and I must be back soon to help Mrs. Gray prepare refreshments for the dance.”

The doors were already swinging open when she reached them and the wood detail was on its way out. Michael Burke was in front and merely gave her a quick smile and friendly nod as he rode by, but Corporal Mahoney called a friendly good morning to her, which she returned.

Sergeant Burke might have called out a greeting, she thought. After all, they were supposed to be friends. She felt shivers of anxiety replace her pique as she turned and watched them go. She hated to see anyone leave these days, for now there was always present the fear they might not return.

* * * *

“You have good color, Elizabeth,” said the colonel when she sat down to breakfast.

“Orion and I had a nice long walk and it certainly stimulated my appetite,” she said smiling and looking down at her plate, which was heaped with eggs and browned potatoes. “What can I do to help you, Janet?” she asked.

“The baking is well under way in Mrs. Taggert’s kitchen, but I would love it if you would make your shortbread cookies to go with the punch.”

“I would be happy to,” said Elizabeth, surprised to find it was true and not just a polite formula. She had not done much baking since she had moved in with the Grays. She paused for a moment, and surprising herself again, said, “I think that I may go to the dance after all, Janet. Are you sure the blue lawn would be appropriate?”

“I’m glad to hear you’ve changed your mind,” said the colonel’s wife matter-of-factly. “And your blue dress will be perfect.”

Aside from the Grays’ Sunday dinners, Elizabeth had not socialized since Thomas’s death and she was very touched by the quiet expressions of sympathy and welcome that she received upon her arrival. For the first hour, she helped serve the punch, smiled at the compliments on her shortbread, and watched the others dance.

When Colonel Gray approached her and asked her to be his partner in the reel, she felt it would be ungrateful to refuse, after all his kindness, even though she had not intended to dance. She kept her reluctance to herself and, taking his hand, stepped out onto the dance floor. This would be her only dance, she told herself.

But then Captain Taggert came up, and not wishing to offend, she accepted his offer. By her third dance, with Master Sergeant Brimmer, she gave up worrying what people would think and began to enjoy herself for the first time in months.

“I am happy to see you dancing, Mrs. Woolcott,” said Lieutenant Cooper, approaching her with two glasses of punch. “I hope I may have the next dance?”

Elizabeth could hardly refuse him, and after sipping their punch and chatting for a few minutes, they moved out onto the floor.

Of course, it would be a waltz, she thought as the lieutenant put his arm around her waist. He was a good dancer, she had to admit, expertly guiding her with just the slightest pressure of his hand on her back. And just as expertly pulling her just a little closer than she was comfortable with. His hand felt hot and she was sure it wasn’t only from the heat of the room. But his desire did nothing for her except make her wish the dance was over. When the last strains of the music faded, he led her off the dance floor and into one of the darker corners, where a few chairs had been placed.

“Here, Mrs. Woolcott, rest yourself for a moment,” he said as he pulled a chair close to hers and sat down.

She felt trapped by his closeness. The combination of his cologne, hair oil, and male scent was suffocating, and she hoped she wasn’t visibly shrinking back from him.

Cooper cleared his throat nervously several times and then reached out and, taking her hand in his, placed it on his knee. It was the first time he had made any physical contact with her and she was mortified. Had she given him any encouragement? She didn’t think so. He started stroking her hand and she had to exert every bit of self-control not to jerk her hand away. Yet she couldn’t let it stay or he would definitely be getting the wrong idea. She very slowly raised her other hand to the back of her head and loosened a hairpin.

“Oh dear, all this dancing has played havoc with my hair,” she exclaimed and, with a little laugh, gently disengaged her hand and fiddled with her hair. The musicians were striking up another waltz. Oh dear, thought Elizabeth, didn’t anyone else wish to dance with her!

* * * *

Michael had danced with the wives and daughters of the noncommissioned officers and then claimed a dance with Mrs. Gray, who smiled and told him that she had planned the dance just for the pleasure of being his partner.