the pass before it hit, and could have been stranded here at the fort until it passed. Maybe one with a little blonde girl who didn’t speak.”
The major thought for a moment. “I don’t recall stranded pilgrims. Or a blonde girl. But I do remember several wagons coming through just ahead of a three-day storm. When you arrived, asking about the girl, they were long gone.”
“Can you tell us anything about the travelers?” Lacy pressed. “How many were in their party, where they were going? Any small remembrance might help.”
They discussed it at length over buffalo steaks marinated in tequila, braised carrots with pine nuts, and creamed sliced potatoes. But no one remembered hearing anything about a lost child.
Lacy felt almost ill—both from the rich food and the disappointment. She looked at Daniel, wondering why he had said nothing throughout the meal, but he continued to eat in silence, listening and observing, his scarred face betraying nothing of his thoughts. It wasn’t until they were finishing an overly sweet dessert of warm bread pudding topped with brandied nuts, raisins, and currants that he finally spoke.
“Lieutenant Grigsby,” he said, turning to the portly quartermaster. “Do I hear a hint of Germany in your speech?”
Pushing back his empty plate, Lieutenant Grigsby nodded. “You do, sir. My parents came to this country when I was a youth. German was the only language spoken in our home for many years.”
“Do many German immigrants pass this way?”
“A few.”
“Around the time Hannah disappeared,” Daniel went on, “do you remember two big Conestoga wagons coming through? Maybe from Pennsylvania?”
“I do. Took two teams of oxen to pull each one.”
“Do you remember the people traveling in them?”
“Pacifists.” A distasteful look crossed the old quartermaster’s deeply lined face. “Old Order. Planned to go all the way to California and start up their own church.”
“Old Order?” Lacy asked, wondering what Daniel was leading up to.
“Old Order Mennonites,” Lieutenant Grigsby explained. “Not outgoing like others of their sect. Plain dressers and standoffish like the Amish. But they do know how to build a wagon. Fine work, those Conestogas.”
“I remember.” The commander signaled the trooper to clear the dessert plates. “An interesting group, but difficult to understand. Barely spoke English, as I recall. Luckily Lieutenant Grigsby and one of our sergeants were available to translate.” He rose. Chairs scraped as his officers followed his lead. Turning to help Lacy from her chair, he said, “My thanks to you, dear lady, and to your brothers, for sharing dinner with us. It’s always nice to see new faces at the table.”
But Daniel had one last question as they filed out of the dining room. “Do any of you know if they made it to California? Or if they settled around here?”
“They didn’t settle on this side of the pass,” Major Barnes answered. “But one of my patrols reported a new settlement at Jasper Lake. Might be the immigrants you’re looking for. I’ll check with Sergeant Mueller. If there are any other Germans in the area, he would probably know.”
The gathering broke up soon after, and after thanking their host, Lacy and her brother and Daniel left the headquarters.
The night was still and cold, the sky clear, except for a white ring around the moon. Lacy watched her breath fog and was relieved they would be indoors tonight. Even sandwiched between the hound and her brother the previous night, she had felt chilled to the bone.
Until she woke up with Daniel Hobart’s hand stroking her back.
Tom kicked at a clod of snow that had rolled down from the shoveled mounds lining the path. “Well, I guess that’s it. Another dead end.”
“Maybe not.”
Lacy looked up. “Do you think the German immigrants by Jasper Lake might have Hannah?”
“Maybe.”
“Why would you think that?”
He hesitated a long time before
The major thought for a moment. “I don’t recall stranded pilgrims. Or a blonde girl. But I do remember several wagons coming through just ahead of a three-day storm. When you arrived, asking about the girl, they were long gone.”
“Can you tell us anything about the travelers?” Lacy pressed. “How many were in their party, where they were going? Any small remembrance might help.”
They discussed it at length over buffalo steaks marinated in tequila, braised carrots with pine nuts, and creamed sliced potatoes. But no one remembered hearing anything about a lost child.
Lacy felt almost ill—both from the rich food and the disappointment. She looked at Daniel, wondering why he had said nothing throughout the meal, but he continued to eat in silence, listening and observing, his scarred face betraying nothing of his thoughts. It wasn’t until they were finishing an overly sweet dessert of warm bread pudding topped with brandied nuts, raisins, and currants that he finally spoke.
“Lieutenant Grigsby,” he said, turning to the portly quartermaster. “Do I hear a hint of Germany in your speech?”
Pushing back his empty plate, Lieutenant Grigsby nodded. “You do, sir. My parents came to this country when I was a youth. German was the only language spoken in our home for many years.”
“Do many German immigrants pass this way?”
“A few.”
“Around the time Hannah disappeared,” Daniel went on, “do you remember two big Conestoga wagons coming through? Maybe from Pennsylvania?”
“I do. Took two teams of oxen to pull each one.”
“Do you remember the people traveling in them?”
“Pacifists.” A distasteful look crossed the old quartermaster’s deeply lined face. “Old Order. Planned to go all the way to California and start up their own church.”
“Old Order?” Lacy asked, wondering what Daniel was leading up to.
“Old Order Mennonites,” Lieutenant Grigsby explained. “Not outgoing like others of their sect. Plain dressers and standoffish like the Amish. But they do know how to build a wagon. Fine work, those Conestogas.”
“I remember.” The commander signaled the trooper to clear the dessert plates. “An interesting group, but difficult to understand. Barely spoke English, as I recall. Luckily Lieutenant Grigsby and one of our sergeants were available to translate.” He rose. Chairs scraped as his officers followed his lead. Turning to help Lacy from her chair, he said, “My thanks to you, dear lady, and to your brothers, for sharing dinner with us. It’s always nice to see new faces at the table.”
But Daniel had one last question as they filed out of the dining room. “Do any of you know if they made it to California? Or if they settled around here?”
“They didn’t settle on this side of the pass,” Major Barnes answered. “But one of my patrols reported a new settlement at Jasper Lake. Might be the immigrants you’re looking for. I’ll check with Sergeant Mueller. If there are any other Germans in the area, he would probably know.”
The gathering broke up soon after, and after thanking their host, Lacy and her brother and Daniel left the headquarters.
The night was still and cold, the sky clear, except for a white ring around the moon. Lacy watched her breath fog and was relieved they would be indoors tonight. Even sandwiched between the hound and her brother the previous night, she had felt chilled to the bone.
Until she woke up with Daniel Hobart’s hand stroking her back.
Tom kicked at a clod of snow that had rolled down from the shoveled mounds lining the path. “Well, I guess that’s it. Another dead end.”
“Maybe not.”
Lacy looked up. “Do you think the German immigrants by Jasper Lake might have Hannah?”
“Maybe.”
“Why would you think that?”
He hesitated a long time before
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