One more thing this journey had shown her she didn’t know.
Thank goodness Hiram Fredericks had helped her yesterday. Tall, lean Mr. Fredericks, with his head of white hair and bushy mustache, had proved a godsend. He seemed to be in charge of things here at the fort, though Lily didn’t know if he had an official title.
He’d secured quarters for her and her father, arranged for meals to be delivered to their room, and for her clothes to be laundered. He’d had the blacksmith take charge of the horses and their wagon.
Then he’d sent for the fort’s medical expert who’d examined her father’s wound and changed the bandage; he’d promised to come back twice a day, if that was what Lily wanted. She did.
Lily said a quick prayer of thanks that gentlemen existed, even in this hostile land.
Squinting against the morning sunlight that came in around the shuttered window, Lily washed and dressed. She hadn’t left her room since arriving yesterday, but had seen the Nelson family bedding down last night in their covered wagon outside the gate.
How odd it felt to be separated from them, after the close proximity of their wagons on the Trail.
The men in the third wagon who’d accompanied them to the fort had slept outside, also. Lily couldn’t remember their names and hadn’t especially liked them, anyway, yet she wondered how they were faring.
She would let them know when her father was well enough to resume their travels, and they could all continue on to Santa Fe.
A knock sounded at the door. Lily jumped at the unfamiliar sound. She hesitated answering, still a little uncomfortable in her surroundings, despite the kindness that had been shown her; she wished Mrs. Nelson would come by.
When she finally opened the door, a young man stood before her holding a breakfast tray covered with a white linen cloth. Tall, thin, he had brown hair in need of a trim, and wore clothing that, more than likely, used to belong to someone else; he was no older than she. His generous smile put her at ease.
“Morning, ma’am,” he said, and ducked his head. “My name’s Jacob. Jacob Tanner. I work over in the kitchen. The cook sent me over here with breakfast for you and your pa.”
“Thank you,” Lily said, reaching for the tray, genuinely pleased.
“I’d better set it down for you, ma’am. It’s kind of heavy,” Jacob said, hesitating on the doorstep. “If’n that’s all right with you, of course.”
While allowing a man into her quarters would be unheard of in other circumstances, Lily decided Jacob seemed harmless—and her life hadn’t exactly been filled with her usual circumstances, anyway.
“That’s very kind of you,” Lily said, stepping back from the door.
“There’s broth here for your pa. Cook made it special, just for him.” Jacob placed the tray on the little table in the corner, took a quick glance at Augustus in bed, and hurried back outside.
“Did you prepare the other food?” Lily asked, anxious suddenly to have someone to chat with this morning.
“I do some of the cooking, ma’am. But mostly I just fetch and carry for the cook.” His cheeks flushed slightly, and his gaze wandered over the door casing before he spoke again. “If you need anything special, just let me know. Mr. Fredericks says we’re supposed to take good care of you and your pa.”
“Thank you,” Lily said. “I appreciate everything that’s been done for us. In fact, I thought I’d go over to the kitchen tonight after supper, when the cook’s not busy, and thank him personally.”
Jacob’s expression darkened, and he met her gaze for the first time. He lowered his voice and leaned just a little closer.
“No, ma’am, you ought not be out alone after dark, if you don’t mind me saying so,” he told her. “It’s not safe for a…a woman.”
A little chill slid up Lily’s spine. “Well, all right. Thank you for bringing breakfast.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jacob murmured. He ducked his head and hurried away.
Lily closed the door quickly. Now she really wished Mrs. Nelson would come by.
After Lily ate, she attempted to get her father to drink some broth the cook had sent, but Augustus remained in the deep sleep that had kept him quiet throughout the night and morning.
She was relieved when Oliver Sykes, the man who served as the fort’s doctor, came to check on Augustus. He was an older gentleman, not much taller than Lily, who had somehow managed to grow a round, soft belly here in this lean, harsh land.
“He’s better, don’t you think?” Lily asked, twisting her fingers together as she and Sykes stood beside her father’s bed. “He’s resting so comfortably now. He didn’t wake once during the night.”
“Maybe you ought to get some fresh air, Miss St. Claire,” Sykes suggested, not looking at her, “while I check over your pa.”
A knot of anxiety rose in Lily’s chest. “But—but he’s doing better, isn’t he?” she asked.
Sykes’s heavy jowls wobbled as he worried his lips together, his expression growing intense. “You just run on outside for a while.”
Lily searched his lined face for a hint of his thoughts, but found nothing.
“Very well,” she said, easing toward the door. “But I’ll be right outside in case…well, just in case.”
When he didn’t answer, she slipped from the room and closed the door behind her. She hesitated a few seconds, wanting to go back inside. After all these weeks at her father’s side, the separation seemed odd and uncomfortable.
But Mr. Sykes was a capable man—much more knowledgeable than herself. She should leave him to his task, let him handle it. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted since her father had injured himself?
Lily turned away and took in the fort. Upon her arrival yesterday, she’d hardly noticed the place in her hurry to get her father settled in a room. Now, she took a good look around.
The two-story fort was the only major permanent settlement on the Santa Fe Trail, according to what everyone on the wagon train had told her. Yesterday, Hiram Fredericks had proudly explained that the fort provided travelers, explorers and, occasionally, the U.S. Army, with a place to obtain supplies, livestock, food, fresh water, as well as rest and relaxation.
There was a bell tower and bastions at opposite corners of the fort that were used for lookout posts and for storage. Each bastion was armed with a cannon. Fredericks had explained that, so far, they’d never been used for defense, but for signals and to welcome important people, a fact that Lily was pleased to hear.
The fort housed much the same things as a small town: a kitchen, dining room, blacksmith and carpenter shop, warehouses and, of course, the trade room. Lily wasn’t sure what was upstairs on the second floor of the fort, other than more living quarters and the billiard room Fredericks had mentioned last night.
What Lily did know, for certain, was that the fort was populated mostly by men.
She kept her eyes forward as she walked, but felt the gazes of the men upon her. They paused in midstride. They stopped their chores, their conversations. Their faces appeared in windows and doorways.
Men. Big men. Frightening-looking men. Wild hair and unkempt beards. Buckskins stained with sweat. Faces lined with wind and sun. Trappers, mountain men, hunters, prospectors, explorers, adventurers.
A new awareness came with Lily’s every step, her every movement. The sway of her skirt, the rustle of her petticoats, the tug of the breeze in her hair, the fabric of her collar against her throat.
Lily glanced around. Where was Mrs. Nelson? Surely other women were here at the fort.