The Horse Soldier by Merline Lovelace

Author:Merline Lovelace [Lovelace, Merline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781551667843
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2000-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

His words rang in Julia’s head for the rest of that long, heart-wrenching day. Somehow, she finished the morning’s classes and composed herself during the noon break, but the afternoon passed in a blur of worry over what to tell Suzanne about her father.

The sympathetic look on Mary Donovan’s face when she called at Julia’s quarters after supper settled the matter. Rumors were already flying around the post, the laundress confirmed. Since it was only a matter of time until her daughter heard some version of the story, Julia knew she had to tell her.

As she’d expected, Suzanne took the news of Philip’s possible death with a storm of tears.

“No, Mama! No! Papa’s waiting for us in Montana Territory. You said we’d go there and find him.”

“I’m sorry, ma petite.”

“He’s not dead!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “He’s not! He’s not!”

Julia held her in her arms and rocked her until she’d cried herself out and dropped into an exhausted sleep. Wishing she could do the same, she tucked the girl into bed and prowled about her quarters until guilt and wrenching doubts about the future left her too exhausted to think.

Thankfully, the next day was Saturday. With no school to teach, Julia spent the day with a red-eyed and tearful Suzanne. The next few days saw a steady progression of callers.

A solemn Little Hen and her mother brought a mourning gift of pemmican cake. Walks In Moonlight said little, but Julia appreciated both her gift and her soothing companionship.

The laundresses followed in her wake, one after another, offering awkward sympathy. Maria Schnell and the officers’ ladies came, as well. Even Victoria McKinney made the trip to Suds Row after tattoo one evening. Julia had just taken down her hair with a thought to washing it when a baby’s squawling cry announced the latest visitor. Hastily, she rebuttoned the top buttons of her chemise and pulled her blouse back on.

Victoria’s false sympathy and curiosity to know Julia’s plans shredded her hostess’s nerves. The visit lasted less than twenty minutes. Ushering Victoria out with more firmness than courtesy, Julia walked down to the end of the row quarters and knocked on Mary’s door.

“Could Peggy come and watch Suzanne? I need to walk and think a bit.”

“O’course. Are you needin’ someone to talk to? I’ll get my shawl and come with you.”

“No, thank you. I—I just need to think.”

The early evening air carried a soft coolness. After seeing Peggy settled with a candle and her books, Julia grabbed her own shawl and walked along the riverbank. Bullfrogs sounded their deep, croaking chorus as she struggled with the guilt that still threatened to choke her.

Why couldn’t she grieve for Philip?

Why did she feel only this empty numbness?

Although she’d told Andrew she wouldn’t believe her husband dead until she saw proof with her own eyes, she knew in her heart he was gone. Knew, too, that he’d been lost to her for more than the two years since he’d left to find the fortune that always seemed just out of his reach.

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