visited. Now he’s showing up at Aunt Kate’s diner several times a week.” She winked. “There are a few of us who would love to see the two of them find love the second time around.”
Annie harrumphed. Perhaps some woman could picture Lieutenant Bear Arnold as a nice man, but not her. “He’s helping me only because Mrs. Peate asked him to. How can my plan work if he opposes it?”
Mama stuck her needle in the trouser leg. “Annie Abigail Bliss, you’re giving one man too much power. If God is for it…”
“…who can be against it?” Annie rubbed her forehead. “You’re right, of course.” She forced a smile. “But you have to admit it would be easier if he was as excited about it as I am.” She cut off the end of the yarn that she had twisted too much to use. She shifted to green, to remind her of spring, and dug in her basket for larger knitting needles. This time her first row came out evenly spaced and with the right number of stitches. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Easier, perhaps—but not as much fun.” Mama’s laughter resounded in Annie’s ears, and she made short work of the mitten’s cuff.
Chapter 4
A loud cry awoke Jeremiah in the night. He battled his blankets and sat up straight in bed, his Colt in his right hand. His head swung around, but no one moved in the shadows. Chaswell, the only other officer in the bachelor’s quarters, snored, his sleep uninterrupted.
No enemy threatened Jeremiah or the regiment’s safety; only his own painful nightmares troubled him, the same ones he’d suffered after Fannie’s death followed on the heels of his parents’ deaths. Those dreams had ended years ago until Annie Bliss and her knitting project had disturbed his peace.
The women Jeremiah had dealings with as chaplain fell into two categories. He offered officers’ wives the same respect he afforded their husbands. As far as camp followers and other such women in every station and town in the west, he warned his soldiers to keep out of their way and took care to follow his own advice.
He had minimized his contact with pretty young things like Annie Bliss. Chaswell likened his behavior to a horse with blinders. But Annie had burst on the scene, tearing the blinders from his eyes and forcing him to see the spirited, godly young woman with a mission from God.
The sky had lightened to a predawn gray, and he saw no point in seeking slumber again, “perchance to dream,” as Hamlet despaired. After he scrubbed his face, he grabbed his Bible and headed for the stable. He had enough time to ride to his favorite place to greet dawn, about a five-minute ride from the fort.
He had spent more time on horseback in the past ten days than he had in the past ten months, and today he would add more miles to that total. He had to ride into town for his second meeting with the self-proclaimed missionary to the military.
Inside the stable, familiar odors greeted Jeremiah, and his horse’s soft nicker welcomed him. He rubbed her nose while feeding her a bit of carrot. “I’m spoiling you.” She stood quietly while he saddled up and led her outside before closing the door and climbing on her back.
The guard at the gate called, “Morning, Chaplain.” Waving back, Jeremiah headed into the cool spring Kansas morning. Winter snow had disappeared only a week ago. God knew Jeremiah needed a place to escape and think things over.
Once he reached his spot and settled his mare, he reached for a blade of new spring grass. He tried whistling down the shaft, without success, before he stuck it between his teeth. David might have done the same thing when he was a shepherd. The habit lingered from Jeremiah’s boyhood.
The mare matched Jeremiah well, but she was getting up in years. If he chose to reenlist, he would need a new horse. She deserved to end her years in peace, but where could he find her a home?
Annie’s horse was well cared for, as was everything he noticed about her home.
Annie, again.
Annie harrumphed. Perhaps some woman could picture Lieutenant Bear Arnold as a nice man, but not her. “He’s helping me only because Mrs. Peate asked him to. How can my plan work if he opposes it?”
Mama stuck her needle in the trouser leg. “Annie Abigail Bliss, you’re giving one man too much power. If God is for it…”
“…who can be against it?” Annie rubbed her forehead. “You’re right, of course.” She forced a smile. “But you have to admit it would be easier if he was as excited about it as I am.” She cut off the end of the yarn that she had twisted too much to use. She shifted to green, to remind her of spring, and dug in her basket for larger knitting needles. This time her first row came out evenly spaced and with the right number of stitches. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Easier, perhaps—but not as much fun.” Mama’s laughter resounded in Annie’s ears, and she made short work of the mitten’s cuff.
Chapter 4
A loud cry awoke Jeremiah in the night. He battled his blankets and sat up straight in bed, his Colt in his right hand. His head swung around, but no one moved in the shadows. Chaswell, the only other officer in the bachelor’s quarters, snored, his sleep uninterrupted.
No enemy threatened Jeremiah or the regiment’s safety; only his own painful nightmares troubled him, the same ones he’d suffered after Fannie’s death followed on the heels of his parents’ deaths. Those dreams had ended years ago until Annie Bliss and her knitting project had disturbed his peace.
The women Jeremiah had dealings with as chaplain fell into two categories. He offered officers’ wives the same respect he afforded their husbands. As far as camp followers and other such women in every station and town in the west, he warned his soldiers to keep out of their way and took care to follow his own advice.
He had minimized his contact with pretty young things like Annie Bliss. Chaswell likened his behavior to a horse with blinders. But Annie had burst on the scene, tearing the blinders from his eyes and forcing him to see the spirited, godly young woman with a mission from God.
The sky had lightened to a predawn gray, and he saw no point in seeking slumber again, “perchance to dream,” as Hamlet despaired. After he scrubbed his face, he grabbed his Bible and headed for the stable. He had enough time to ride to his favorite place to greet dawn, about a five-minute ride from the fort.
He had spent more time on horseback in the past ten days than he had in the past ten months, and today he would add more miles to that total. He had to ride into town for his second meeting with the self-proclaimed missionary to the military.
Inside the stable, familiar odors greeted Jeremiah, and his horse’s soft nicker welcomed him. He rubbed her nose while feeding her a bit of carrot. “I’m spoiling you.” She stood quietly while he saddled up and led her outside before closing the door and climbing on her back.
The guard at the gate called, “Morning, Chaplain.” Waving back, Jeremiah headed into the cool spring Kansas morning. Winter snow had disappeared only a week ago. God knew Jeremiah needed a place to escape and think things over.
Once he reached his spot and settled his mare, he reached for a blade of new spring grass. He tried whistling down the shaft, without success, before he stuck it between his teeth. David might have done the same thing when he was a shepherd. The habit lingered from Jeremiah’s boyhood.
The mare matched Jeremiah well, but she was getting up in years. If he chose to reenlist, he would need a new horse. She deserved to end her years in peace, but where could he find her a home?
Annie’s horse was well cared for, as was everything he noticed about her home.
Annie, again.
Similar Books
