A Soldier's Journey (15 page)

Joseph offered his paw. Sara took it as a smile spread across her face. “He has very good manners.”

“Yes, he does,” Andy said, “although I can't take credit for it. He was already trained when I adopted him or, more truthfully, he adopted me.”

“Where are you from, Andy? Where's home?”

“I really don't have one,” she said. “The army was my home for ten years' active service. Fourteen if you include ROTC at the university. Before that, a small town in West Virginia.”

“There's mountains there,” Mrs. Monroe said.

“Mostly deserted coal mines, bald tops and few jobs,” she said. She didn't say it hadn't been home for a long time. It reminded her that she needed to get her act together and help out her family.

“Then, you will have to consider Covenant Falls home,” Sara said.

“I think I already do,” she said. “I've never felt so welcome.”

“Good. Now, what would you like to know?”

“I went by the Presbyterian church this morning and saw Angus's Bible. I just had time to see the notifications about Angus, his marriage, the births of three children and the death of his wife. I didn't see any successive entries. Did Angus marry again?”

“No, he didn't. A woman from Chiweta's tribe came to stay with him and care for Liam and his sisters.”

“What happened to the son? There was nothing more in the Bible.”

“Oh, he survived, but he disappeared for years. Rumors were that he was an outlaw. He returned when Angus was dying. Among the papers we have is a pardon from the governor two days before Angus's death, but I don't think Angus forgave him. He became a pillar of the community and is one of Al's ancestors.”

“And the daughters? Were they heard from again?”

Sara was silent for a moment, then said, “There was a lot of prejudice then. There had been numerous raids—not so much by the Utes, but most people didn't distinguish between tribes. Angus sent the daughters away to be educated in the east, and that was where they met their husbands.”

“Does everyone here know that story?”

Sara shrugged. “They know the rumors. Much of what I said has been passed from one member of Al's family to another. They didn't publicize it. Maybe because they were ashamed of the Ute blood or that one of the relatives had been an outlaw. I thought it rather intriguing,” she said. “I always wanted to write the story, but I didn't because I thought it might hurt Al's position in the community.”

“He doesn't care now?”

“We talked about it last night. He knows I've always been interested in Covenant Falls history, but he was on the council and was thinking about running for the House of Representatives. After last year, his heart wasn't in it any longer. I think he may even want the story told now.”

Excitement roiled inside Andy. A film was rolling though her mind. Angus, his Ute wife, daughters fleeing their heritage and an outlaw son.

“You said ‘may,'” Andy said.

“He told me you promised that you wouldn't say or publish anything without approval. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Andy said. She wasn't a reporter. It would be fascinating, though, to try to discover what had happened to the sisters. That, though, wasn't her objective. A short, concise history for a brochure was. “I don't want to write a book,” she added, “but I think you might.”

Sara looked at her with surprise.

“Mr. Monroe told me you were an English major and wanted to write,” Andy said slowly. “I'm a nurse. It's what I wanted since I was little girl. I still want it, although I might have to take a different specialty. Maybe I forgot how important it was to me until yesterday when Nate fell.”

“How is he?”

“Doing well, I think. He has a concussion and he's staying in Pueblo today and hopefully tomorrow to make sure there isn't any bleeding in the brain.”

“What was your specialty?” Sara asked.

“I was a surgical nurse, but a bullet crippled my left hand.”

“I'm sorry,” Sara said.

Andy just nodded. She wasn't going to say she was the lucky one, that she was the one survivor. And that maybe she wasn't the lucky one at all.

“Would you like to see some excerpts from Angus's journal?” Sara asked.

“Yes.” An escape from memories into another world.

Sara reached into an envelope and pulled out three pages.

Andy started reading.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

November 5, 1848

Tomorrow I leave my beloved Scotland and my store in Edinburgh for America. I hear it is a vast and wild land. It is not my wish to go. I do so sadly, but I feel it is my duty to my reckless young brother, Liam, whom I swore to our parents to protect.

He took funds from our leather tore and, without my permission or knowledge, took passage to New York City. Like many here, he has heard there is gold to be found in America and he yearned for adventure. He is an irresponsible lad of seventeen and in good conscience I cannot let him go alone...

A
NDY
SKIMMED
TO
the last sentence:
I am beginning this journal today to record the journey ahead.

She looked up from the pages Sara Monroe had given her. “Is the rest of the journal this interesting?”

Sara nodded. “It is to me. There are dry spots here and there. He recorded every river they crossed and fauna he found along the way.”

“Is there more than one journal?”

“There's five,” Sara said.

“What a treasure!”

“I've been telling Al that for years, but the journals have been passed down as private family history. In the beginning I think it went back to a fear that their heritage and Liam's reputation might taint the family, which basically ran this part of Colorado for many decades. Then it became a tradition, one Al didn't want to break. But after our nephew was arrested and convicted, I think Al realized then the myth of Angus Monroe and the influence of the family destroyed his sister and her son.”

She looked up with sorrowful eyes. “Al's sister was much younger than he, and when his parents died, he took care of her. Spoiled her completely. She could never do any wrong. She married a con man, a very handsome one. He was an alcoholic abuser, but she couldn't admit she'd made a mistake and dived into alcohol, as well. When they died and we adopted Sam, he was the child I could never have, and we spoiled him just as Al had spoiled his sister.”

She had tears in her eyes when she looked at Andy. “He thought he stood above everyone because of the relationship...”

She straightened up. “But I'm wandering. What's done is done, but I think Al feels that some of that aura around the family contributed to his sister's death and his nephew's troubles. I also think he might realize Eve is right about trying to grow the town.” She smiled. “Like any man, it's hard for him to admit he's wrong. This is his apology,” she added, “although he won't admit it.”

“Have you read them all?”

She nodded.

“May I?”

“I think that's why Al brought you here. He doesn't usually take to people right away. His father was that way, too. But he liked your grit, as he put it.” She smiled wistfully. “I used to be that way.”

“I think you still are,” Andy said.

“Thank you for that,” she said. “Would you like some tea?”

“Please.”

There was more color in Sara's face, even a hint of a sparkle, when she left the room.

Andy turned to the next page and started reading.

New York City, December 15, 1848

I arrived in New York City after a hellish passage on the
Mary Ann
, a clipper ship that was said to be seaworthy. We were met with storms and I have rarely been so ill. The food was rotten from sea water and the drinking water scarce.

Two crewmen were washed overboard during a storm and five passengers in the below deck died of some sickness. The captain had advertised a trip of no longer than three weeks. It took us six weeks, and I fear that Liam will be headed west.

I have found lodgings while I hunt for my brother. The innkeeper told me of several neighborhoods where they say Scots gather. He also reported it was a very dangerous area. I will begin my search tomorrow when I am rested.

From the Journal of Angus Monroe

Feeling increased excitement, Andy turned to the last page.

Yule, 1848

It is a joyful Yule. After ten days of searching, I found my brother. He is with me now. Running low of funds, he had been enticed into a fighting club where he was forced to lose rounds after winning several matches. When he complained about not being paid, he was badly beaten and thrown out on a wintry street in Five Points, an area much feared.

New York is a lawless place. The police are corrupt, asking for money when I sought assistance. I hired men to look for Liam. One stumbled upon him and brought him to my lodgings. A doctor attended him, and he is improving. I asked him to return to Scotland, but he refused.

Despite his injuries, he is determined to go west. The newspapers are full of news about gold finds in California, and there are also rumors of gold in Colorado. I fear if I do not go with him, he will go alone and his recklessness will kill him.

I offered to pay our way if he would travel west with me. Liam, now penniless, agreed. I do not seek gold as my brother craves, but I have heard there are opportunities for traders in the West. I have talked to many people, and I am told we should buy goods and wagons in Independence, Missouri, since the journey from New York is long and harrowing with many river crossings. I have also been told we should be in Independence by April to join a wagon train for protection against the savages. I can buy goods then and hire men to drive the wagons.

Since we will be going by horseback, I must leave behind many of my prized possessions. I fear I have seen Scotland for the last time, but there are vast new territories to explore. I cannot deny a hunger for land.

We will have to wait here until the snow melts, but we want to be at the Mississippi by mid-February. They say it is a great river and we will have to find a boat to take us across. I have purchased a book that purports to tell me everything we will need on the journey westward from the Mississippi.

If only the snow would stop...

Sara returned then with Elena and a tray with tea and small pastries.

“I talked to Al,” she said. “We would like you to come to dinner tonight, if you're not too exhausted. Around seven?”

Andy would have accepted any invitation to have access to more of the journals. She hesitated. She had planned to visit Nate, but maybe if she hurried she would still have time. “I would very much like to come,” she said as she tasted a very good lemon concoction.

* * *

N
ATE
WAS
SUPPOSED
to rest. However, there had been a steady stream of visitors on his second day in the hospital. To placate his mother he agreed to spend the second night there, but by damn he was leaving in the morning. He had things to do.

Four of the vets showed up together, followed by Eve and Josh, then Clint.

He really wished everyone would leave him alone. He was not a good patient, and he felt like a fraud. He was fine. He had a bloody bad headache, and a small bald patch where his head had been shaved and the wound closed. The gash on his leg was still seeping, but he could live with that.

An orthopedist said it was a grade-two ankle sprain and he recommended crutches for several weeks. Though it was painful, he'd walked to the bathroom without them. He'd walked on worse during army training.

None of the injuries were severe. They just hurt at the moment, and he wanted everyone to leave him to his misery. He hated hospitals; he had spent four very bad weeks in one fourteen years ago. He had to admit, though, this hospital had it all over the military one, not in quality of care but certainly in atmosphere.

Truth was he only wanted to see one person, and that person was Andy Stuart. He wasn't particularly happy about it. But damn, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

By late afternoon, the visitors had left. The nurse came in to put an ice pack on his ankle and made sure it was elevated, then took his temperature and blood pressure. “All good,” she said. Then she checked the head wound. “You're going to have a scar there, but you were lucky.”

“That's one way of looking at it,” he said glumly.

“I don't know who you are in Covenant Falls, but your doctor got you the best specialists.”

“What I feel like is the biggest damn fool in the hospital. I've never fallen off a ladder before.”

She left and he turned on the television, flipping from one station to another. Nothing caught his attention. He was turning it off when there was another knock at the door. He wanted to say, “Go away,” but decided that would be rude. “Come in,” he said unenthusiastically.

“Hi,” Andy said as she walked in, a book hugged to her chest with her wounded hand. She dropped it on the bed. “I suspected you might try climbing the walls, so I brought a book I thought you might like. He's my favorite suspense writer.”

“Where did you get it?”

“In the second bedroom in the cabin. I went through them all.”

He took it and glanced at the title. He liked the author, too. “I haven't read this one. Thanks.”

“I'll tell you a secret about hospitals. They purposely pick the worst possible television stations so people will leave. Same with the food.” Her other hand was behind her back, and she pulled out a box and handed it to him.

“A gift from Mrs. Byars. Brownies, I think. I didn't peek, but I smelled them all the way here.”

“Where's Joseph?”

“He's in the car. I left the windows partly open and it's cool outside. I wasn't sure he would be welcome in the hospital and I can't stay long.”

He studied her. That triumph he'd seen at Monday-night poker was there again, and her grin was wide. “You look as if someone handed you a sackful of money.”

“Even better,” she said. “The Monroes are allowing me to read segments from Angus's journals, and what I have seen so far is fascinating.”

“I'm impressed,” he said, meaning it. “I wasn't sure they existed or, if they did, that anyone could pry them out of Monroe's hands.”

“Well, I haven't exactly pried them out of their hands, but I hope the excerpts are only the beginning. I had tea today with Sara Monroe. They've invited me to dinner tonight at 7:00 p.m. I'm hoping they will let me see one of the volumes.”

“You've drove all this way for a few minutes?”

“And brownies. Don't forget the brownies. Mrs. Byars saw me drive in, and she came flying over. Well, maybe not flying, but she was moving fast. She had the strangest idea that I might be coming to see you. I couldn't disappoint, could I?”

“Most certainly not,” he said, grabbing one. “Tell me about the journals.”

“There's five of them. I've just read a few entries at the beginning of the first one, but Sara told me what I might find. I feel like I've found a lode of gold.”

Her excitement was contagious. And the fact she'd driven to Pueblo to tell him warmed him all the way through.

“Go on,” he encouraged her.

“The first entry is Angus leaving Scotland to follow his younger brother here. He finds him half-dead, then the two go by horseback to Independence.”

Nate loved the excitement he heard in her voice, saw in her eyes.

“His brother wanted to look for gold, but Angus figured he had a better chance at growing wealth by trading than by digging for gold. He's a very economical writer, yet the story just flows.”

She sat in the chair next to his bed. “I didn't mean to gush,” she said and reached for a brownie. “I never gush,” she added wonderingly.

“You're welcome,” he said drily. “And it's interesting to note you never gush.”

“Just this once,” she retorted. “And the brownie is my fee for bringing them.” She took a bite and asked, “Are you springing this place tomorrow?”

“Hopefully at first light.” He was suddenly aware of the new bare spot on his head. His hand went to it before he could catch it.

“It's a unique haircut,” she said. “Kind of intriguing.”

He knew he was seeing the Andy Stuart before the tragedy in Afghanistan. He didn't know how long it would last, but he liked it. He liked it very much, especially the gushing. Her eyes sparkled with life.

He tried to tamp down that feeling.

“Thanks for coming and bringing the goodies,” he said.

“Oh, I was told to tell you not to worry about Mrs. Byars's porch. There's a group of vets over there fixing it. It should be done by tomorrow morning.”

He gave her a wry smile. “That's good to hear. I was worried about it.”

“It's a pretty neat town you have here,” she said.

“Yours isn't?”

“I think it was once. It's pretty dismal now. It was a coal town, but the mines played out. It left the old and those too tired to move.”

“What about your family?”

“You couldn't move my mother with a ten-ton truck. Her father, mother and grandparents are buried there. So is my father. She practically lives at the cemetery.”

“What about friends?”

She shrugged. “I was always the odd one out.”

“How?”

“I was the only girl in ROTC, and they gave me a hard time, but I knew it was probably the only way to get a college degree. That and grades. I studied when everyone else was playing.”

“I'm surprised a small-town school had a ROTC unit.”

“We were bused to a larger school twenty miles away. It was big in athletics and the military. I was able to get an ROTC nursing scholarship.”

“Did you like the military?” He knew he should stop asking questions. It was none of his business and it was one of the unspoken rules of the vets. No questions. If someone wanted to talk, then yes, but otherwise...

Her eyes clouded, and he thought she wasn't going to answer. She would probably tell him it was none of his business.