Ft. Kearney had been originally built as a military outpost in the spring of ’35 on explicit instructions of President Andrew Jackson. Due in large part to the covert espionage of American agents in Russia and Britain, President Jackson had been alerted to the fact that both these foreign governments were planning to send large military forces across the Atlantic Ocean to claim these large, still un-chartered sections of land located at the back door of the U.S. for their countries. Not willing to allow the un-chartered land to be claimed by foreign peoples, President Jackson had hastened to send squadrons of the U.S. Army to set up outposts on each of the unclaimed sections of land in hopes of keeping the land out of British and Russian lands. On orders from President Jackson an in-depth study of the native wildlife, vegetation and peoples be included with the enlisted men’s regular tasks.
A forty-foot high fence had been set up around the hundred acres or so of land that the CO and his enlisted men had claimed for American soil. A small group of buildings had been built within its barrier consisting of the CO’s quarters, the mess hall, infirmary, barracks, ammunition bunker, stables and corrals for the livestock.
As time passed, the outpost became infinitely larger as the families of the CO and his enlisted men joined their husbands. With the inception of President Jackson’s westward expansion the outpost soon evolved into a thriving frontier community. Although a good portion of the pioneers traveling from the eastern states continued onto Oregon and California, many of them became enchanted with building homes, businesses and farms in Missouri, Kansas and Nebraska. To accommodate the growing population, a portion of the original fencing had been torn down and re-built.
Lou slowed Lightning to a walk as she neared the guarded entrance to Ft. Kearney. Two clean-shaven young sentries stood to either side of the fence, hair neatly combed, bodies rigid, navy blue uniforms immaculate and black boots shiny despite the dusty road. Lou’s eyes traveled up the coarse wooden fencing as she passed through the gate, picking out two more soldiers patrolling the narrow catwalk alongside its interior. All four soldiers wore Army issued pistols on their hips, sheathed swords attached to their belts and carried new Winchesters in their arms.
Despite the early hour, the streets of Ft. Kearney were teeming with activity. To Lou’s far right was what had once been the original entrance to the fort and now served as the entrance to the Army compound. Lou could just make out a squadron of soldiers practicing firing drills and more soldiers unloading supplies from a wagon. In the corral nearest to the entrance she could see another dozen or so soldiers putting their horses through a series of maneuvers that looked suspiciously similar to the ones Teaspoon had taught to her and the other riders. Without realizing what she was doing, Lou made a mental note to herself to share the new tidbit of information with Kid when she got back to Rock Creek.
(Stop it Lou!) She chastised herself! (Thinking about Kid’s not going to get you anywhere, except maybe a bottle of whiskey and a pile of soppy handkerchiefs! You made the decision to leave Rock Creek because you didn’t want to fight with Kid anymore or tell him about the baby! You can’t have it both ways! Either you decide here and now to never see Kid again or you turn around and head back to Rock Creek and tell Kid he’s about to become a father!)
Lou scanned the brightly painted storefronts as Lightning maneuvered his way through the maze of moving wagons, carriages and horses lining the narrow streets. Storekeepers in twill pants, cotton shirts and flowing aprons straightened out produce bins or haggled with customers outside their stores. Women in colorful cotton dresses traipsed down the wooden sidewalks escorted by their husbands or beaus, window shopped or gathered in talkative groups to discuss the latest fashions and gossip.
Businessmen in suits strolled down the sidewalks, tipping their hats at the women they passed, greeted neighbors or shook hands with business partners. Gamblers in brocade jackets and linen shirts, smoked cigars outside the various saloons and watched the goings on with amused disinterest. Gunfighters with notched gunbelts strolled cockily down the sidewalks, jostling bodies, knocking off hats and calling bawdy comments at the women, daring anyone to be stupid enough to challenge them to a dual.
As Lou neared the General Mercantile, she noticed a group of farmers in faded denims and flannel shirts gathered on the steps, swapping stories, chawing tobacco and playing checkers. It wasn’t until she was almost to it that two familiar faces came into her view amidst the group of men: Wiley Jenns and Tanner Buckley. Wiley was blond, blue eyed with an ego tripled the size of Cody’s. Tanner was in his late fifties, wore a patch over one eye and was a friend of Teaspoon’s from his Ranger days. Wiley rode for the express based out of Ft. Kearney and Tanner owned and operated the livery.
Hastily she ducked her head, pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes and spurred Lightning into a canter. Reaching the nearest street a few moments later, Lou turned the stallion to the left, expecting at any moment to hear her name being called behind her. After several moments had passed without her hearing anything but the sounds of the bustling town around her, Lou let out a huge sigh of relief. She had known that she would be taking the risk of being spotted by coming into Ft. Kearney, but she couldn’t help it. The child she carried was having an weakening affect on her usually sturdy disposition and she wanted nothing more than to find a clean room, take a warm bath, eat a hot meal and snuggle under some covers for a few hours.
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