room in a few steps and put his arm around her shoulder, holding her close to him. Major Townsend raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“It’s not bad news,” Joe told her.
Townsend nodded to Private Benedict, who quietly dismissed the students. Susanna couldn’t help both her pride and relief when they marched out like little angels. Private Benedict saluted smartly and Susanna brushed the chalk dust from her dress, even as Joe continued to hold her close.
When Major Townsend and the strange man came into the classroom, Susanna exchanged an “Are we in trouble?” look with her fellow teacher. He gave her the slightest shrug.
“I’m all right now,” she told Joe, not wanting him to let go, but not willing to give Major Townsend any fodder for gossip. “Just for a moment … You know what I thought.”
Major Townsend turned to the civilian. “Private Benedict and Mrs. Hopkins, this is Jules Ecoffey. He, uh, owns the Three Mile Ranch with Adolf Cuny.”
Susanna could not help noticing the look that Private Benedict exchanged with Joe.
Anthony Benedict cleared his throat. “Major Townsend, I know I’m the lowest man on the totem pole in this room, but should Mrs. Hopkins be party to a conversation involving Three Mile Ranch?”
Silence. Susanna looked from man to man, mystified. Her gaze lingered longest on the post surgeon, not a man slow with cues.
“Private, the matter concerns Mrs. Hopkins most of all, because there is a potential pupil at Three Mile.” Joe glanced at Jules Ecoffey. “Jules, better explain Three Mile Ranch, if you can, or should I?”
“You do it.”
“Mrs. Hopkins, let me put this as plainly as I can, even though the matter is offensive. Among other more legitimate enterprises, Ecoffey and Cuny run a hog ranch.” He smiled, because he seemed to be reading her mind. “It’s not what you think. It’s a whorehouse, located three miles from the fort.”
“Oh,” she said, and felt her face grow warm.
“I occasionally have the unenviable duty of treating prostitutes and soldiers for venereal diseases, although I am not certain that mercury does the slightest good. Apparently one of the, uh, practitioners of the art of Venus has a daughter, age six, that Mr. Ecoffey would like to see in school.”
“She should be in school,” Susanna said. She looked at Major Townsend. “Sir, I have no objection, and I doubt Private Benedict has, either.”
“Not one, sir,” Anthony said. “We have room and Mrs. Hopkins is an exemplary teacher. But how …”
“How will I get her to you?” Ecoffey asked. He glanced at Major Townsend, too. “I propose to deliver her to this classroom every morning. Afternoons are more difficult, but if someone can see her to the Rustic Hotel, I can pick her up from there.”
“The Rustic …” Susanna looked at Ecoffey.
“It is the hotel John Collins is constructing, a quarter mile from here,” Joe explained, when Ecoffey said nothing. “Is it open?”
Ecoffey nodded. “Just barely. If I can retrieve Maddie from there, it would give me time to get back to the ranch for …” He paused, his face red now. “… the evening’s activity.”
“Heavens, where does the child go in the evening?” Susanna asked.
“She sits in my office until … until it quiets down,” the man said.
I am appalled, Susanna thought, unconsciously edging closer to her fellow teacher. “Such a place! Couldn’t we just keep her here?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but the idea of a child at Three Mile Ranch made her blood run in chunks.
The look Jules Ecoffey gave her was a kindly one. “I know what you are thinking, but Maddie has a mother who loves her. Perhaps if you have children, you understand.”
She did, with a clarity that sliced right through her shock and disgust. “We will do the best we can, if … if … Major Townsend and Major Randolph allow it.”
“I can think of a hundred objections,” the post commander said. “There might be a huge outcry from the parents of these students, or from the officers’ families. Major Randolph?”
“I can’t think of a single objection,” he said firmly. “Would you be willing to pay some tuition?”
“I would,” Ecoffey said promptly. “Only name it.”
“Might I ask why you are doing this?” Susanna asked. “How long has …”
“Maddie Wilby,” Ecoffey said.
“… been there? And why?”
“She came with her mother from Denver before Christmas.” Ecoffey shrugged. “I did not know of the child until Claudine Wilby arrived. Why am I doing this?” He shrugged again. “Perhaps I care.” He glanced at