the post surgeon. “There is more. We will talk.” He bowed to Susanna. “Madam, she is a charming child.”
“Is she your daughter?” Susanna asked, her voice soft.
Apparently not surprised by her question, even though Major Townsend stared in amazement, Ecoffey shrugged again. “I knew Claudine briefly in Denver. Who can tell? Good day, Mrs. Hopkins.”
The three men left. Susanna stared at Private Benedict. “I used to teach at an exclusive girls’ school in Carlisle, Pennsylvania,” she said.
“And I clerked in a store in Hartford, Connecticut,” Anthony said, his voice equally mystified. “Who knew the army would be so interesting? How much do you think Major Randolph will charge for tuition?”
“I rather hate to think where the money is coming from.”
She thought about Maddie Wilby while her night class members sounded out words to each other. When they left, she stayed in Maeve’s warm parlor, telling the sergeant’s wife what had happened that afternoon.
“Do you think the other families here on Suds Row will have objections?” Susanna asked.
Maeve shook her head. “What business is it of theirs? Poor child.”
My own child has no mother, Susanna thought. “Maybe not so poor. Maybe we should remind ourselves that she has a mother who loves her.” It was food for thought.
She was glad Joe Randolph came to escort her home by himself, without Nick.
“I put Saint Paul in charge of counting sheets in the linen closet,” Joe said as they started across the parade ground. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“What else did Ecoffey tell you?”
“He wants me to visit Claudine Wilby. Apparently she is ill. Will you come with me?”
“Me? Now?”
“You. Now.”
“I’m afraid.”
“You’re Maddie Wilby’s teacher. Let’s meet her.”
God knows he didn’t want to keep bullying Susanna Hopkins, but there was no overlooking her fright as they sat in the ambulance, bumping over the bad road between Fort Laramie and Three Mile Ranch. Maybe if he kept up some informative chatter she would be less intimidated.
“I hardly need to tell you that Three Mile Ranch is off-limits to all military personnel, but the boys have a way of sneaking off.”
Her faint smile encouraged him. “I’m surprised you could dredge up enough iron-willed soldiers to accompany this ambulance,” she said in a faint approximation of a joke.
“Ah, that is the beauty of having our cavalry troops gone north to fight Northern Roamers. Those men riding alongside are mounted infantry, and they are doing their dead level best to stay in the saddle. I also showed them several textbook pages of diseased organs before I got into the ambulance. I anticipate no trouble.”
“Major Randolph, you are amazing,” she said.
“Merely desperate,” he assured her. “Let me tell you about this place. Jules Ecoffey, an enterprising Swiss, runs it with his partner Adolf Cuny, another enterprising Swiss. They also operate Six Mile Ranch about …”
“Six miles from here in another direction,” Susanna said.
“My dear, you are wise beyond your years,” Joe teased. “Precisely. Both establishments have a legitimate purpose of supplying miners headed for the Black Hills. Prostitution is a side venture, apparently started a few years back when business was slow. I visit both places to stitch up bar fight wounds and treat the clap. I hope you are not too disappointed in me to know that post surgeons are the only persons at Fort Laramie officially allowed here. Al Hartsuff takes his turn, when he is here. Our contract surgeon, long gone, was too squeamish.”
“Have you visited Claudine before?” Susanna asked, then put her hands to her face. “Oh, you know what I mean!”
“Of course,” he replied with a chuckle. “No. Jules said she has been here only a month or two. I do not know what I will find.” But I suspect, he thought.
The ambulance driver took them directly to the large adobe building that Joe knew housed the saloon, restaurant and office. He held out his hand to help Susanna from the vehicle, and did not let go of it as he led her into the building.
It was early evening, and the saloon was nearly deserted. Joe had his own private chuckle to note how quickly the two men at the bar left the building. Those were two cases of drunkenness he would probably not have to treat tomorrow at sick call.
Jules Ecoffey appeared through a door beside the bar and gestured to them after a courtly bow so out of place in a hog ranch. Joe glanced at the woman who clung to his hand with a death grip. She was pale,