her. In this closed society, she would see these faces again and again until she figured out some way to escape Fort Laramie. She was trapped with people she could not escape.
Mrs. Dunklin snatched the paper back. “It’s all here, how you abandoned your child, and your poor husband was forced to sue you for divorce! And then you come here, playing on our sympathies by posing as a war widow. For shame!”
Susanna forced herself to look around the room again, knowing she was looking at officers who had fought in the Civil War and seen their friends on both sides of the conflict die in battle. She expected no sympathy and saw none.
“That rumor was started right here by one of your own,” Major Randolph said.
Mrs. Dunklin turned her vitriol on the post surgeon. “And who could ever trust a word out of your mouth, you son of—”
A lady gasped.
“—Virginia,” Mrs. Dunklin concluded. “I know General Crook doesn’t trust you. Why should we?”
“Please don’t excoriate Major Randolph because he’s from Virginia,” Susanna said, stung by the unfairness of it. “He’s not your target. I am.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, I fled my home, but only because my former husband, quite drunk, pushed my face into the mantel and I was bleeding. When I tried to get back in, he wouldn’t let me—”
“That’s not what the paper says,” Mrs. Dunklin interrupted.
“No, it isn’t.” Susanna felt her courage peeking out again from a dark place where it had hidden, even though she couldn’t stop shaking. “It also doesn’t say how Frederick Hopkins bought up all the lawyers in Shippensburg, Gettysburg and even Boiling Springs, so no one would represent me. It doesn’t say that, does it? The editor of the Shippensburg Sentinel is a drinking friend of my former husband.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Such a thing wouldn’t happen in Pennsylvania,” Captain Dunklin said, sounding more self-righteous than fifty saints.
“It happened to me.”
“Mrs. Hopkins, say no more,” Major Randolph said. “It won’t make any difference.”
She knew he was right, but she knew this was her only opportunity to speak. “I know,” she told him. “My side deserves a hearing, even if none of you listen.” Little spots of light started dancing around her eyes, and she blinked to stop them. “Whether you believe me or not, and I fear you do not, I had the choice between being beaten to death that night or running away to find medical help. I don’t see well out of my left eye, because there is only so much doctors can do.”
She didn’t bother to look for sympathy. “All I wanted to do here was teach,” she said simply. “I’m an educator and—”
“Not anymore,” Mrs. Dunklin said, producing another piece of paper. “This letter states that none of our children will attend school until we have a new teacher, and it has been signed by everyone here present.”
Major Randolph stepped between Susanna and Mrs. Dunklin. “That’s enough,” he said.
“This is wrong.”
It was a quiet voice, a lilting Irish voice, and Susanna looked around to see Captain O’Leary on his feet.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“Rooney will still be in your classroom tomorrow, Mrs Hopkins.”
“Then I will be there, too,” Susanna said, finally teasing courage out of its hiding place and holding her head higher.
“He’ll be alone!” Mrs. Dunklin said.
Captain O’Leary shrugged and headed for the door. “All the better to get the total attention of one good teacher, eh?”
“When the rest of us withdraw our support for this creature, will you pay her entire salary?”
“I can’t afford that, and you know it. Rooney will go to the enlisted men’s school then.” He smiled at the gasps in the room. “Should have done that last year. Mrs. Hopkins, come visit Katie anytime you want.”
He left the room without a word to his hosts.
“Mrs. Hopkins, what do you say we follow? Witch hunts scare me,” Major Randolph said. “Captain, our coats, please?”
The sparkles were back around her eyes. She shook her head to clear them this time, which made her lose her balance and stagger. The post surgeon steadied her.
The room was starting to revolve. Susanna took another deep breath, which ended in a ragged note. She turned to her hostess.
“Mrs. Dunklin, whether you believe me or a slanted newspaper article is your choice. I can tell you it was death or divorce.” She kept her voice low, deriving her only mite of satisfaction from watching the others lean forward to hear. “I chose divorce because I wanted