Into the Wilderness. Laura Abbot

Caleb felt uncomfortable telling the part of the tale that Lily had chosen to omit, her father needed to know.

      Ezra gestured to the wooden chair against the wall. “I’m listening.”

      Caleb lowered himself into the seat, then fixed his eyes on the doctor. “One of our enlisted men attempted to assault Lily.”

      Ezra raked his fingers through his graying hair. “I’ve been afraid of something like this.”

      “Fortunately Lily was able to escape his grasp and run away from him before anything more serious happened. When I first saw her from headquarters, she was running lickety-split across the parade ground, pursued by the cad, who fell back when I stepped outside. I did what I could to calm her and assure her she was safe.”

      Ezra spoke in a steely tone. “Do we know the identity of this scoundrel?”

      “I do. Corporal Adams. I will be ordering him held in the stockade as soon as I leave here.”

      Ezra rounded his desk and slumped into the chair, burying his face in his hands. “I should never have brought my family here. I knew what rough-and-tumble places military forts are. I permitted my own needs and desires to override my common sense.”

      “With all due respect, sir, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Most of the men are good souls who respect women.”

      As if he hadn’t heard, Ezra said, “I’ll never forgive myself. What have I done to my daughter?”

      Caleb realized he needed to get the man’s attention. “Sir, listen to me. This was not your fault. It was the result of one man’s actions, a man who needs to be drummed out of the army in disgrace.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Lily begged me not to tell you about this. I think she was afraid you’d react just as you have. In no way does she regard any of this as your fault. Furthermore, she seemed to recover well. She is brave and resilient. She will worry about you if she thinks she has been a cause of your increased concern.”

      “Have you ever had a child, Captain?”

      “No.”

      “Then you cannot know how strong is a father’s instinct to protect his children. It is a grave responsibility, which I have failed.”

      “Even the best father cannot foresee and prevent all circumstances. Let Lily guide you. She loves you very much and wanted only to spare you pain.”

      Ezra scraped his hands across his face, then looked at Caleb. “I fear I have forgotten myself. My daughter called you her rescuer, and for that I am most grateful. I know that for every scoundrel and hooligan, there are fine, conscientious men like you, Captain.” He stood then and offered his hand across the desk. “Thank you, sir. I am in your debt for your service to Lily.”

      Caleb grasped the man’s hand and said, “Rest assured justice will be done in this matter, sooner than later. I will attend to it directly.”

      “I would expect no less.”

      Exiting the hospital, Caleb strode across the parade ground to the enlisted men’s barracks. Inside, some men were playing cards or writing letters, but in the back corner a tight group clustered around a dice game, Adams among them, the visor of his cap pulled low as if to make himself invisible. The minute the duty sergeant saw Caleb, he shouted, “Attention!” The men rose to their feet, braced for what might follow and saluted.

      Caleb let his eyes rove over the assembly, before closing in on Corporal Adams. Then he called him out. “Adams, front and center. You are summarily ordered to the stockade, pending investigation of a charge of assault.”

      No one looked at the culprit as he slunk through the stony silence toward Caleb, his shifty eyes darting about as if soliciting sympathy. Caleb waited until the man stood in front of him. “Do you understand the charge?”

      “I didn’t do nothin’,” Corporal Adams whined.

      “That is for your superior officers to determine. Thank your lucky stars it isn’t solely up to me. Consider yourself officially on report. Come along.”

      Caleb saluted the sergeant and, accompanied by the unrepentant corporal, strode from the room, holding on to his temper by only the shortest tether.

      * * *

      In the days that followed, Lily tried to forget the afternoon of the storm. She couldn’t bear to think what might have happened had she not escaped the leering corporal, nor did she want to remember how protected she had felt in Caleb’s arms. It had been bewildering to go from the clutches of one man to the welcome embrace of another. Rather than dwell on either sensation, she threw herself into her work at the hospital, even though her father had expressed reservations. “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you?”

      From Ezra’s obvious concern, Lily suspected that Caleb had told her father exactly what had happened. The captain had sought her out the day after the attack to assure her that Corporal Adams was locked in the stockade awaiting a hearing.

      Even so, Lily was now more cautious as she moved among the men, no longer innocent concerning the occasional one who eyed her just a trifle too long or smirked when he thought she wasn’t looking. But mostly the soldiers were embarrassingly solicitous of her. Whatever hopes she had entertained of keeping the affair quiet had been disappointed. A military hearing could hardly be kept secret, but thankfully justice had been swift. Adams would remain under guard pending transfer to Fort Riley.

      Rose had been tender with her the night of the incident, finally coaxing the story out of her. Lily had confessed to the fear that had clotted her throat when the corporal dragged her into the storeroom and laid his hands on her. Even now the rasp of his coarse fingers on her skin and the smell of his sour tobacco breath lingered in her memory. Rose had wiped away her tears and rocked her in an embrace. “There, there,” she had said. “Try to concentrate instead on your good fortune that Captain Montgomery saw Adams and protected you.”

      Every day since, warm spring winds howled and dust flew in the air and choked the throat. Restlessness unlike any Lily had ever known surged within her. No place—not the hospital, the library or the cemetery—brought her peace. Even thinking about St. Louis made her dejected—it seemed a distant goal. She felt as if the flame of her soul had been snuffed out.

      Near the end of April a few wagon trains appeared. Camped near the fort to avail themselves of both protection and the opportunity to restock provisions, the settlers brought with them stories of previous hardships as well as their idealized hopes for the future. The women, in particular, gazed fondly at the fort, perhaps wishing they could stay rather than launch into the dangerous, unknown sea of prairie grass.

      Lily had seen Caleb going about his duties, and once or twice they’d been together in the library. However, others were present so no further literary discussions had ensued. Lily fretted in a limbo of frustration.

      Late one night a few days later, she was awakened by frantic knocking on their door, followed by her father’s commanding voice. “Take her into the hospital and I will get my daughters to assist.”

      Closing the door, he called to them. “Girls, are you awake? Come quickly to the hospital to assist with a delivery. Bring plenty of towels.”

      Rose, dressed first, fetched clean towels. Lily slipped into a shift, and both donned clean white aprons before extinguishing the candles and hurrying next door.

      Behind the curtain drawn around one bed came the sound of a woman bawling in pain. Lily moved to the head of the bed where the woman lay, her skin ashen, her cracked lips caked with the salt of her tears. Rose had gone to boil water, and her father stood at his patient’s side palpating her abdomen, his face grave. “She has been in labor since yesterday evening,” he said quietly. “I fear both she and the child are in distress. Daughter, can you determine how the baby is presenting?”

      Lily dipped her hands in hot water, scrubbed them with soap and moved to the foot of the bed. What she saw upon examination was not reassuring. When her father raised his eyebrows in question,