told me to. He boosted me into a wagon full of rations. Told me he was staying behind to make sure that man on our trail was confused.”
“We received a letter from Mr. Pinkerton, describing someone that had to be Nick Martin. Will thought he might have seen you, which made me pretty sure you were on your way here.” Joe nudged Tommy’s shoulder. “Did you actually make it all the way to Fort Russell without discovery?”
His face fell. “A teamster found me around Grand Island, but let me stay, since I’m good with mules.” He leaned closer. “I learned a lot of words that I’m never going to tell Mama.”
“Wise of you. How long were you at Fort Russell?”
Tommy’s eyes started to close. “Maybe two weeks. I lived in the stables and worked for the cook.” He settled himself more comfortably in Joe’s lap. “Aaron told me—” he yawned “—told me that I was to wait there for a tall man with a funny accent. He couldn’t remember your name. You know he’s a bit slow.”
“Not where it matters,” Joe said.
Tommy closed his eyes. “He said you’d figure it out.” He chuckled, his eyes closed. “He told me that if you didn’t, I was to figure out how to get to Fort Laramie.” He settled in on Joe’s lap. “He said he knew I could.”
“I know you would have, son,” Joe said, and kissed Tommy’s head.
Tommy slept. Joe held him all night. Once he thought he heard a noise in the brush, just beyond the light from the campfire. He wondered if Nick Martin would always be just out of his vision, a step behind or a step ahead, guarding his dear ones.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tommy rode without complaint to Fort Laramie, taking his turn caring for the horses, and even holding four of them rock-still when Lakota attacked and even Joe joined the troopers on the firing line. Maybe it was good for his image, for Tommy looked at him with real respect when the Indians rode away. Obviously firearms trumped field surgery.
“Your mama’s going to be angry with me for exposing you to danger,” Joe said, and sewed a flap of skin back onto a trooper’s forearm.
Tommy just shrugged. “I’d like to know how we were supposed to get to Fort Laramie without trouble.”
“I’ll sign him on any day,” Captain O’Leary said as the boy walked back to his horse and calmed the still-skittish animal with a few words spoken nose-to-nose.
“He’s only twelve!” Joe protested. “I believe his mother will have different ideas. I will, too.”
Hard riding brought them to Fort Laramie as the shadows of early evening gathered on the parade ground. Tommy had gone completely silent, straining forward as he rode, as though he could urge his tired mount to go faster.
They came first to the cavalry stables, where K Company peeled off, with a salute from Captain O’Leary.
“We must go to the hospital first,” Joe said as he took the reins from the soldier with the wound in his leg. “Private, you will spend the night in the hospital so I can look at your leg in the morning. End of the trail, Tommy.”
The boy did as he was asked without question, dismounting and handing the reins of his horse to the bunkie, who saluted Joe and headed back to the stable with the horses. It took only a few minutes to sit the private down on a cot and turn him over to the hospital steward. A few words with Dr. Petteys relieved Joe of night duty.
“Your mother has been waiting for you for months,” Joe said, his hand on Tommy’s thin shoulder.
“Longer, sir,” the boy said. “I haven’t laid eyes on her since … since that night she ran away. It’s been a year and more.” His expression turned wistful, and Joe had an inkling what the time had cost Thomas Hopkins. “I was barely eleven and now I am twelve.” He frowned. “I know I have changed. Has she?”
“Probably, but let me assure you she is wonderful.”
“Then she hasn’t changed.”
They walked slowly down the hill toward the parade ground and Officers Row. More tents had sprouted on the ground between the storehouses and infantry barracks, probably reinforcements for General Crook. Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Joe knew there was to be a picnic at nearby Deer Creek. He hoped Suzie hadn’t committed herself to anything beyond preparing some food that someone else could take.