Her Hesitant Heart - By Carla Kelly Page 0,17

“Our late president?”

“Abraham Lincoln. Stanley knows his limits now. I am fond of little boys.”

Susanna glanced at the post surgeon, who was smiling at her. She returned her attention to her oatmeal, pleased.

When Emily returned to the lean-to kitchen, Major Randolph whispered, “After sick call this morning, I went to Captain Dunklin’s quarters, prescribed a moderate diet and praised him for bearing up under the strain of what I am calling erobitis.”

“Erobitis?” she repeated. “I am afraid to ask. I know that ‘itis’ means inflammation of, or disease of.”

“I expected a teacher to know that. Just spell ‘erob’ backward and you have it.”

“Where is this erob located on the body?” she asked when she could speak.

“Somewhere between the spleen and the bile duct, I should think, right next to the coils of umbrage,” he said serenely. “More coffee?”

“If I drank coffee right now, I would snort it out my nose,” she joked.

“Bravo, Mrs. Hopkins,” the doctor replied with a grin. “I have never heard anything resembling wit come out of Captain Reese’s quarters.”

“Hush,” she whispered. “You will get us both in trouble.”

Before the major could say anything, the bugler blew another call.

“Guard mount,” Major Randolph said. “To the porch.”

He gestured toward the front door as Stanley ran in from the kitchen. The major scooped up the little boy and carried him outside. He set Stanley on the porch railing and held him there, then pointed toward the end of the parade ground. “The bugler stands in front of the adjutant’s office, or post headquarters.”

“And the bugle calls?”

“Rubbing the sleep from his eyes before any of us—unless I have some calamity to deal with in hospital—the bugler starts with reveille first call, which is followed by reveille, and then assembly, when all the men line up in front of their barracks to be counted.” Major Randolph touched Stanley’s head. “What comes next, lad?”

“Breakfast call,” the child said promptly. “My favorite.”

“That is followed by surgeon’s call,” the major continued, “my favorite, Stanley. The infirm, lame and malingering stagger to the hospital, or I am summoned to the barracks. I just came from surgeon’s call, so the call that followed was guard mount.”

Susanna looked at the other porches down Officers Row, where other women and children watched.

“Usually the band performs for guard mount. They won’t play outdoors until at least the end of February. The night watch will pass—here they come now—and be replaced by the day watch, which means the guard for a twenty-four-hour period is mounted. Right now, the new guard is being inspected by the sergeant major—see? Over there in front of the old guardhouse.”

She looked. “I gather the sergeant major is someone to be obeyed.”

“I never cross him, even though I far outrank him,” Major Randolph joked. “Now he is giving the new guard their assignments. Here comes the officer of the day, Lieutenant Bevins of Company D. That means I am on high alert today, because his wife is about to present him with a child. He will be unbearable if I do not stop by his quarters a few times today.”

“You know these people well.”

“There are few secrets in garrison, and I am privy to most of the sordid details,” he told her.

Let’s hope my fake widowhood remains a secret, Susanna thought, returning her attention to the parade ground. “What is Lieutenant Bevins doing? He’s the one with the bright red sash?”

“Indeed he is. He’s inspecting the guard now, and will probably lead them through a short version of the manual of arms. Before frostbite sets in, he will give them the new password and the guard will take positions inside the guardhouse. Done for another morning. What comes next, Stanley, my man?”

“Fatigue call,” the little boy piped up, making the same sounds as the bugler, his fist to his mouth. He looked at Susanna for approval, and she kissed the top of his head.

“That means work detail,” the post surgeon explained, as he helped Stanley down from his perch. “They’ll work at various duties until the bugler blows recall, and then it’ll be mess call, Stanley’s other favorite call. There are other calls. You’ll learn them, because this is how we tell time at a fort. Now let us visit Major Townsend.”

“But it was Colonel Bradley who wrote to me about the teaching position. Is he not here?”

“He’s back East and Major Ed Townsend is commanding officer until he returns in a few weeks. Your credentials, madam?”

Susanna retrieved her credentials. Major Randolph waited in the parlor