After the Storm: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter Two

 

              As Kyle Dwyer traveled on the ship headed back to the United States that Wednesday, he had trouble quelling his impatience to get home.  He hadn’t laid eyes on his family since June of 1917 and he had a bad case of homesickness.  It had been an eventful twenty months since leaving Dawson, Montana.  That time had been fraught with heartache, laughs, danger, and excitement.

              His mind wandered back to an unusual event that had occurred in the fall of last year that he would never forget:

 

October 27, 1918

 

Right before Halloween, Kyle sat in a trench, eagerly opening a letter from home. 

             

Dear big brother,

 

              I have a lot to tell you and I’m not kidding about any of it.  I’m getting married on Thanksgiving.

 

              Kyle’s dark eyebrows rose.  “Jr.’s getting married?  Nah.  Can’t be.”  He continued reading Joey’s account of his relationship with Snow Song and everything that had happened since they’d been found out.  “Good Lord!  I can just imagine Mama and Daddy’s faces.  Raven and Zoe’s, too.  Leave it up to Jr. to stir things up.”

              Art looked over at Kyle, “What are you mumbling about?”

              “My little brother, Joey, is gettin’ married on Thanksgiving.  I wish I could be there, damn it.  He’s only seventeen,” Kyle replied to the tall black man.

              “Dang, that’s young.  What’d he do?  Get some girl in the family way?” Art asked, smiling.

              “Well, she ain’t pregnant, but they’ve been carrying on.  Seems like they’re in love.  He sounds really happy about it,” Kyle said.  “I know the girl he’s marrying, too.  She’s really pretty and good with weapons, too.”

              “Is she one of those Lakota friends of yours?”

              “Yeah.  Too bad she ain’t over here.  She’d show up some of these fellas, especially with a bow and arrows,” Kyle said.  “The Hun wouldn’t stand a chance against her.  That Indian fella I told you about that I ran into a while back is her cousin.”

              Art stood up.  “You sure know a lot of people.  I’ll take a look up top here.”

              “Be careful.  It’s been quiet for a while,” Kyle said.  “It feels like trouble is brewing.”

              As if on cue, cannon fire sounded followed by explosions not too far away.

              “Told you,” Kyle said, grinning up at the broad-shouldered colored man.

              Art gave him a rude hand gesture and sat down just as someone landed in their trench.  In that moment, Kyle received the shock of his life.  The soldier stood up, brushing himself off a little.

              “Nice of you to drop in, soldier,” Kyle said.  “How’s it looking up there?”

              The soldier looked at him, gray eyes wide and frightened, meeting his hazel gaze that immediately filled with disbelief.

              After glancing quickly at Art, in a husky voice the soldier said, “As soon as they reload, we’re moving forward, sir.”

              “Hailey?” Kyle said in disbelief as he looked her over.  She wore a lance corporal uniform and a helmet.

              “Kyle?”

              He closed his eyes and shook his head, certain that he was having a hallucination.  However, she was still there when he opened his eyes. 

              Art asked Kyle, “You know him?”

              Hailey’s eyes opened even wider and Kyle read the plea in them.  “Uh, yeah.  I can’t believe you’re here,” he said tersely, the words having a hidden meaning he knew Hailey would catch. 

              “It’s a long story, sir,” she said, reverting back to her soldier role.

              “I’ll just bet it is,” Kyle said.  “What a small world.  Art, I’d like you to meet my cousin, Hailey Dwyer.” 
And I’d like to wring your neck, Hailey
.

              Art extended a hand to Hailey.  “Well, how about that.  He was just reading a letter from his brother.  Good to meet you, Hailey.”

              Hailey took Art’s hand, giving it a manly shake.  Kyle had no idea what he was going to do.  How had she entered into the fray without being caught?  He remembered that she’d joined the Red Cross.  How had she gotten from there to being in battle?  Scrutinizing her again, he thought that it was a good thing that she was almost six feet tall and slim with it. 

              Her tunic hid a lot of her torso and the slight softness of her face could be explained by saying that she was only eighteen or nineteen, which she wasn’t.  She wasn’t much younger than his twenty-four years.  With a dirty face and hands, it was easy to see why she’d passed as a man thus far.  But what happened when they left the front lines and went to shower?  The men mostly showered together and there would be no hiding the fact that she was a woman. 

              Artillery shells landed nearby and Kyle’s instinct was to throw himself over her, but it would look suspicious to Art.  Hailey ducked as dirt and rocks rained down on them, but she didn’t flinch.  She smiled at Kyle and he realized that she was enjoying herself. 
It has to be her Lakota blood.  Battle excites her.
  He had so many questions, but they couldn’t be answered right then.

              What was he going to do when they started moving forward?  He couldn’t let her fight, but he couldn’t leave her behind, either.  He gauged how much he could trust Art and how angry Hailey would be if he told Art her true identity.  He had to get her to the rear or to the Red Cross.  Wherever she’d come from, she had to go back there.

              In Indian sign, he asked, “What are you doing here?  Where did you get the uniform?”

              Hailey replied in kind. “From a dead soldier who did not need it anymore.  I was a medicine driver
(this was as close to ambulance as the Lakota language came at the time)
and he was one of the men we were transporting.  He looked close to my size and we were in a bad spot.  I put it on and sent the other girl back with the men who had made it.  Then I came to the front to fight.”

              “You should not have done that!  Women are not allowed in combat!” he signed emphatically.

              Her eyes narrowed.  “I know, and that is stupid.  The Russians have women fighting for them, and some British women have joined other fighting forces, too.  I am a good solider and I have counted much coup already.”

              “How long have you been out here?”

              “Two weeks,” she signed.

              He gritted his teeth.  “You are not properly trained and someone will discover you.”

              She arched a brow at him.  “I am as well trained as you were when you got here.  From what I understand, many of our soldiers had to be retrained by the French because they were not combat ready.  I need no such training.  I am an excellent shot and I am as skilled at hand-to-hand combat as most of the men here.  I have ways of hiding my identity and I cut my hair short.”

              Kyle shook his head a little as he remembered her thick, reddish-brown tresses.  “I am taking you back to the rear.  You are going to get yourself killed.”

              Her gray eyes turned lighter with anger.  “Why?  Because I am a woman?  If you say that, I will hit you.”

              “You would really hit a superior officer?” he asked.

              “Yes.  According to you, I am not a real soldier, so there would be nothing you could do about it,” she said.  “You must make a decision.  Either I am a soldier or I am not.”

              Kyle didn’t like being backed into a corner and he wasn’t going to let her do it to him.  Out loud, he said, “You’re not.  I’m taking you back.”

              “No!” she shouted.  “You’re not!”

              Art had been watching them and he was confused.  He could tell they’d been arguing in some sort of sign language, but he had no idea what they’d been saying.

              Kyle said, “Art, I’m going to swear you to secrecy.  Hailey is—”

              Hailey slugged him hard and he fell back against the trench wall.  “Shut up, Kyle!”

              Art grew even more confused. “Hey, knock that off.  He might be your cousin, but he’s also your superior.  You can’t go around hitting superior officers.”

              Kyle said, “You hit me like that again and I’ll hit back.  Woman or no woman, Hailey.”

              Her fist clenched in rage.  “Damn you!”

              Art looked between the two of them.  “Woman?”

              Kyle said, “Yeah.  Hailey’s a girl.”

              “I hope you’re kidding,” Art said.  “Women ain’t allowed to fight.”

              She turned her angry gaze on him.  “I’ll fight any man who challenges me.  I’m a better soldier than half of the men out here.  My grandfather is a Lakota chief and I’ve been trained by the men in our family since I was little.  Give me a gun, bow and arrow, or a knife and I’ll show you just how lethal I am.”

              Art’s expression showed his surprise.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like an Indian.  You must be a half-breed.  Me, too.  What the heck are we gonna do with her?”

              “I’m taking her to the rear and they can get her back to the Red Cross.  That’s how she got over here.”  He gave her a hard look.  “Was that your plan all along?”  As long as he’d known Hailey, she’d been wild and fierce, not easily swayed from doing what she wanted.  It wouldn’t surprise him if she’d been angry at not being able to enlist and had decided to sneak her way into the battle at the first chance she’d gotten.

              “No, but when I saw an opportunity, I took it,” she said.  “This is where I want to be.  Not back there with all of those silly women who constantly talk about this handsome soldier or that.  This is where I can make a real difference.  Not there.”

              She took off her helmet and wiped sweat from her brow.  Kyle looked at her closely-shorn head and could have cried.  Her wavy mane of deep auburn hair was gone, with only red-brown stubble adorning her head.  Then she put the helmet back on, fastening it just as more cannon fire sounded.

              “You’re goin’ back,” Kyle shouted.  “As soon as we move forward, I’m taking you to my lieutenant and he’ll see that you’re taken where you’re supposed to be.  And if you fight me on this, I’ll just knock you out and carry you there.  Understand?  This isn’t like at home when you’re just sparring.  This is life and death out here.”

              “I know that!” Hailey shouted back.  “But I can fight.  I’ve done just fine the last couple of weeks.”

              Kyle moved closer to her.  “Hailey, there’s another reason you can’t be out here.  It’s a good thing you dropped down into our trench.  A lot of these guys out here are missing women and some of them would take advantage of you if they found out you were a woman.”

              “Let them try and I’ll make them sorry.”

              “You won’t be able to fight off three or four of them,” Kyle said.  “You’re going back.”

              Art said, “He’s right, miss.  I’m sorry, but you better do as he says.”

              She gave them withering looks.  “You can both go to hell.”  She turned her back on them, stepping over to the small, wooden ladder and going up a step—just far enough to see out over the top of the trench.  Things seemed to be quieting down.

              Suddenly the order came to move out and Hailey was off like a shot.  Kyle swore a blue streak as he followed her.  He caught up to her, tackling her.  “Oh, no, you don’t.  We don’t have time for this!  Come with me now!”

              He hauled her up with him and she knew that it was useless to fight.  He would surely tell someone to be on the lookout for her if she succeeded in escaping.  Kyle forced her to run with him to where his superior, Lieutenant Asherman, stood.

              He saluted Asherman.  “Sir, permission to speak?”

              “Go ahead, Dwyer,” Asherman said, wondering why Kyle had such a tight hold on the soldier with him.

              “This isn’t one of our men.  She’s a woman and she needs to go back to the Red Cross.  She was an ambulance driver and ran into some trouble.  She put on a uniform to disguise herself.  Take off your helmet,” he instructed Hailey.

              Hailey took it off and threw it angrily to the ground.  “I thought you were my friend, Kyle.”

              “I am, but right now, I’m a soldier first and foremost and you being out there compromises us in a lot of ways.  I’m sorry, Hailey, but this is for the best,” Kyle said.

              Asherman angrily asked, “How the hell did you get out onto the battlefield?”

              Hailey said, “It doesn’t matter.  I’ll go back quietly, like the good little girl you want me to be, Kyle, but I’ll never forgive you for this.  Never.”

              His eyes held true regret.  “I’m sorry you feel that way.  I really am.”

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