Summer of Promise Read Free

was frustration. Frustration with the men who cared nothing for their oaths and obligations and who deserted the Army, and even greater frustration with himself for being unable to find them. He’d gone to Cheyenne expecting to locate the pocket of deserters who were reported to be living there. Instead, he’d found nothing but dead ends. That was why he was heading back to the fort a day earlier than planned. He would have only wasted time if he stayed in Cheyenne, and if there was one thing Ethan hated, it was wasting time. If he was going to earn his commanding officer’s respect, he could not afford to spend a whole day doing nothing more than strolling city streets.
    While Mrs. Dunn continued to speak, enumerating the advantages of living in Wyoming Territory, Ethan did his best to ignore her words.
    “One thing you gotta say about livin’ here,” the widow said, her voice reverberating against the sides of the stagecoach, “it’s mighty peaceful.”
    Despite his resolve to pay no attention to the women’s conversation, Ethan found himself listening for Miss Harding’s response. When it came, it was little more than a mutter. “Some might call it boring.”

     
    It was boring. Abigail gazed out the window, trying not to frown at the endless miles of unchanging scenery. Since they’d left the road ranch where they’d eaten a surprisingly tasty dinner and where her skirts had had the unfortunate encounter with yucca leaves, there had been nothing but rolling hills under the biggest sky she’d ever seen. As she’d told Mrs. Dunn, the sky was beautiful, but Abigail needed more. Even a cloud would have helped break the monotony. Unfortunately, not a single one dotted the sky. There was only sun and wind and scrubby hills.
    How could Charlotte bear it? Perhaps she couldn’t. Perhaps that was the reason her letters had sounded so melancholy. Though her sister denied it, Abigail knew that something was dreadfully amiss.
    If only she had a book. It would be several hours before they reached Fort Laramie, and now that Mrs. Dunn had fallen asleep, Abigail could read. Unfortunately, all her books were safely packed in her trunk, leaving her with nothing to do but stare out the window. Hills and brush, brush and hills. Nothing more. Boring.
    Abigail wasn’t sure how long she’d had her eyes focused on the distance when she saw the cloud of dust. For a moment, she stared at it, wondering if it was a mirage. She’d heard that travelers in the desert conjured images of oases with life-giving water, only to discover that the shimmering pools of water were nothing more than a trick of light. Abigail did not seek water; she craved signs of human habitation, but the dust must be a mirage, for Mrs. Dunn had said there were few settlers in this area. Abigail was simply imagining that the brown cloud was caused by horses. Still, the swirling dust grew nearer, and as it did, she saw that the cloud was caused by two riders, one on a dark horse, the other a palomino.
    Abigail swallowed deeply, unsure whether the shiver that made its way down her spine was caused by anticipation or apprehension. “Someone’s coming.” Though she hadn’t intended to, she spoke the words aloud. The response was instantaneous.
    “Where?” Lieutenant Bowles moved quickly, confirming Abigail’s assumption that he had not been asleep. One second he was lounging on the seat, the next he was staring out the window, watching the approaching riders, those expressive lips thinning, then turning into a frown.
    “It’s trouble,” he said shortly. “Probably road agents.” In one fluid movement, he unholstered his revolver and balanced it on the window ledge.
    Abigail cringed as unwelcome images crowded her brain. No! she wanted to shout. Stop! She bit the inside of her cheek as she forced the memories away. Think of something else. Anything. Seizing on the unfamiliar term the lieutenant had used, she asked, “Road