Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“You the station master, Cyrus Spencer?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Major Bolden.” He glanced at the sergeant on the ground, who handed him a letter. Cy opened it and read the message. A knot filled his stomach and he reread it twice more. “Is this for real?”
“Yes. We need to protect the riders from those heathens as well as the stations and animals. So some of the men here will be staying and there will be a soldier accompanying every rider from now on. Or at least until we take care of the pests.”
The major’s opinion on Indians was obvious; Cy didn’t need to ask how he felt. As annoying as that was, it wasn’t his main concern. A solider would be riding alone on the trail with Rebecca. His woman. There was no way he’d let her ride off with another man. Who knew what could happen to her.
“Very well. There is a bunkhouse over there they can use. It will need to be cleaned first.”
Major Bolden gestured to six men. “Your riders can move and clean.”
He frowned. “No, sir. Your men want to stay, they clean. My duty is to my riders as well as Russell, Waddell, and Majors, not the Army. Not anymore.”
Grudging respect filled his face. “Fine, my men will take the other one.”
“We have a code around here they will have to follow. The riders agreed when they signed on so I will not have problems at my station because of them. No drinking to excess or cussing is top along with respecting others.”
“Still have the Army in you, son. I can see it. So can my men. They’ll listen to you. You. We need to water our horses before we press on.”
Cy showed them where to do that and got back to his duties while the soldiers got to work cleaning out their quarters. His night was restless as he envisioned Rebecca’s body broken and beaten. That morning he set off the first rider with a solider as escort. He didn’t think it was a good idea but orders were orders.
Finally, the day Rebecca should return arrived. Unsure if her Army escort would have been there or not he anxiously kept an eye on the horizon.
“Rider up!” he called out as the familiar dust cloud rolling from beneath horse’s hooves appeared.
The breath it seemed he’d been holding all day left him in a disappointed rush. The incoming horse wasn’t the dun he’d hoped to see but it was one he recognized. Reaver. The knowledge made his heart sink with the knowledge. Robert—the real one—had returned.
Chapter 9
Rebecca wiped her hand across her mouth to remove the dripping water. She felt terrible. Standing upright, she hefted the bucket to add to the tub to continue the washing.
“You okay, Rebecca?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded along with her response although it was nothing more than pure fabrication. Something was wrong and she didn’t know what. Emotions were all over the place, she was sore in ways she’d not been since she first laid with Cy. It didn’t make sense.
She’d been home for nearly a month now. Summer had arrived and was settling in with a vengeance and Robert had gone back to riding the route. A fact that both pleased and upset her.
Cy. Her hands trembled again at the thought of never seeing him again.
A mental admonishment for that’s what caused the splash the first time. She emptied the bucket in the large iron pot. This would be the last load for the day and she was glad. She stirred another and glanced to her mother.
Ever since word of the start of the war had come through, Mama had been nervous about Papa. Not that she wasn’t, no word from her Papa wasn’t like him. She noticed this slight slump in her mother’s normally erect carriage.
Was she exhausted? Of course, but so was her mother. Rebecca took a deep breath and tucked a short curl beneath the kerchief on her head. “I can finish this, Mama, why don’t you go inside early.”
“There’s so much—”
She pasted a small smile on her face. “It’s okay, Mama. You go. I’ll finish folding these to be ready for pickup.” She’d already delivered some.
“Maybe I will.” Mama removed her apron and went from the small building where they ran the washing business to the house.
Rebecca sighed and chewed on a fingernail as she stirred the boiling sheets, briefly. She made her way to where her mother had been ironing and folding. Determined to ignore the unrelenting images and memory of Cy, she worked like a woman possessed.
When people began showing up it was all ready. Even the final wash hung out to dry.
“Hello, Rebecca,” a deep voice said from her left.
Startled, she looked up and put a hand on her belly stilling the unease there. “Good evening, Anson.” Not whom she wanted to see. Sure, he was nice enough, if she wanted to have ten kids hanging on her skirts. He couldn’t understand she had no desire for that many.