Chapter 2

Confluence of Yellowstone River and Rosebud Creek

June 23, 1876

Late Evening

"Where's your mount, Miss Beckett?" Castle asked as they stepped off the steamer's gangway on to the riverbank. Kate glanced back at the officer who had caught up and was striding along beside her.

"It's Kate, Major Castle. My friends call me Kate."

"Am I your friend, Miss Beckett?" Castle met her glance with a somewhat strained grin.

"Since I'm counting on you to keep me alive long enough to file my rep…er, story, I would hope so," she replied archly, desperately hoping he hadn't noticed her unintended slip up.

Kate Beckett would quickly learn that Major Richard Castle missed very little. "Who are you reporting to, Miss Beckett?" A touch of harshness crept into his voice.

"I'm a reporter," she stammered. "That's what I do…report." She attempted to turn away to hide the blush that she felt warming her cheeks. Castle grasped her biceps gently but firmly and turned her until the flickering light of the nearest campfire illuminated her features.

"If we are going to be friends, Miss Beckett," there was no warmth in his tone and she couldn't suppress a tiny shiver, "then the first commandment is Thou shalt not take me for a fool."

"Oh no, Major, never."

He awarded her a stern, slightly skeptical look. "Then let's try this again. Who are you reporting to?"

Kate braced her shoulders and looked him square in the eye. "I can't say."

"Miss Beckett…" His protest died as she shrugged off his hold and addressed him in a tone that brooked no argument.

"It's a long story, Major, one that's better you don't know just yet. I promise that I'll tell you everything I can, as soon as I can."

"But…"

Her basilisk gaze caused him to take a half step back. "Major, do you not clearly understand your orders? Do we need to go see General Terry and have him refresh your memory?"

"No, ma'am," he coughed, bracing subconsciously.

A few steps farther along they reached the end of the 7th's picketed mounts. The mass of horses whinnied back and forth as they settled for the night. Castle felt a little sorry for the beasts. As badly as Custer wanted the glory of bringing the Indians in single-handedly, Castle knew that he wouldn't hesitate to run both his troopers and their horses into the ground in his pursuit.

Kate gave a soft whistle and a horse tethered a few yards away lifted its head and nickered back softly. "There's my big boy," she crooned as the animal nuzzled her gently.

"Major Castle, this is Pasha."

"Mmm," Castle murmured, his gaze locked on the striking gray equine. He noticed the arched neck, distinctive profile, and sleekly muscled body. "What a gorgeous creature." His gaze drifted to Kate as he spoke.

She knew he was referring to the horse but couldn't entirely suppress a brief flutter in her abdomen. The major was a very handsome man and while her social life had always been left far behind in the fanatical pursuit of her career, she was still a woman. Get your mind back on your assignment, she admonished herself. But she couldn't help one final thought before she refocused on the business at hand. I wonder if Major Castle has ever been to Chicago?

"An Arab," Castle blurted.

"What?"

"Your horse, it's an Arab, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kate replied. "Is that a problem?"

"Oh no, not at all. If he can keep up, that is. It's just that I've never seen one in the flesh."

"Pasha can run any horse here into the ground and do it on less food and water if necessary. He's bred for the harshest conditions. I'm surprised you recognized him. Not many people do."

"My family was in the horse business. …Damn, why did I tell her that? I don't know her. I surely don't know that I can trust her; she could ruin everything.

"Was?" Kate asked, sensing a story. "As in no longer?"

"That's right, Miss Beckett." Bitterness seeped into his voice. "No longer a farm, no longer a family."

"I'm sorry. I seem to have caused you some distress."

Major Castle was silent for several seconds, wrestling with the emotions aroused by Kate's question. "Not your fault, Miss Beck—"

"Kate," she insisted.

"Uh, yes, Kate. To borrow your earlier phrase, it's a long story and at best only remotely relevant to your current assignment."

She decided to not press the issue any further…for the moment. Though she suspected that the major's personal history was more relevant to her assignment than he knew.

Kate pointed to a small pile of gear on the ground near where her mount was tethered. "The captain of the steamer said he would leave my things here."

"The Second's camp is just around the bend," Castle informed her. "I'll carry your tack if you want to lead your horse and tote your bedroll?"

She almost protested his help but considered her endeavor to transport her gear by herself. It was a little awkward navigating an unfamiliar riverbank in the dark. The added burden of horse, saddle, and her personal gear made a possible tumble more than a remote possibility. A broken leg would end her assignment before she even started. She decided to be gracious and accept his offer. He was just trying to help, not implying that she was incapable.

"Thank you, Major," she responded as he scooped up her saddle, saddle bags, and bridle. Kate tucked her blanket roll securely under her arm and leading Pasha, followed Castle as he picked his way carefully down the bank toward the flickering campfires of the 2nd Cavalry.

"Kate?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, Major?"

"If I may be so bold, how did you come to be in possession of an Arabian horse in the middle of Montana?"

She chuckled softly. "Pasha was a gift from my father. And I'm sure you're going to ask how my father got him."

"Might as well."

"Simple, the president gave him to my father."

"The president," Castle sputtered. "Our president? President Grant?"

Kate grinned. "The very same. Pasha was a gift from the Viceroy of Egypt to President Grant. He owed my father a favor, so I ended up with an amazing horse."

Suddenly, a few things started to make sense. "Your father is James Beckett?"

Kate nodded.

"Congressman James Beckett."

Kate nodded.

"Chairman of the House Committee on Indian Affairs."

Kate nodded.

"So it's no accident that you find yourself riding along on a campaign to subdue what is possibly the most powerful coalition of Plains Indians ever assembled."

"Not even close, Major. My presence is the product of the utmost deliberation and resoluteness."

"This is a woefully bad idea, Kate. I foresee a desperate fight at the end of this trail. We'll likely kick over a rather large hornet's nest."

"I take it that the hornets are not apt to be amused."

"You have no idea." He halted abruptly, spun on his heel, and stretched out his arm as if to take her hand.

"What on earth are you doing?" she demanded, making no attempt to disguise her annoyance.

"Taking you back to the steamer."

"Like hell you are," she snapped. "Don't be stupid, Major. My presence here is of some importance to people whom neither of us should anger frivolously."

He dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet like a small boy. "I'm sorry, Kate. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Even though she thought it was kind of adorable, his chivalrous instincts had to be nipped in the bud. They would only make her task more difficult. "Major, it's imperative that you not draw undue attention to my presence, so I insist that as much as possible you treat me as one of your troopers."

"Easier said than done, ma'am, but we'll do our best."

They tied Pasha to the picket line. And strode into the camp.

They were soon challenged by a sentry at the outskirts of the camp. Castle gave the countersign and they picked their way through little clumps of men clustered around small campfires. The air was heavy with the scent of woodsmoke, bacon, and coffee. Near the center of the encampment stood a simple wall tent with a slightly larger campfire in front. A handful of men lounged about the fire apparently focused on preparing or consuming their evening meal.

The major strode up to the gathering. "Good evening, gentlemen."

They started to scramble to their feet but he waved them back down. "At ease. We're on campaign." He turned to see Kate standing a few paces to the rear, her features indistinct in the harsh shadows cast by the firelight. "We have a visitor; she'll be with us for the remainder of the campaign."

Kate struggled to stifle a laugh as she felt the accumulated thud of a dozen jaws hitting the ground. Castle motioned her to come forward. "Gentlemen, may I present Katherine Beckett." He paused for a pregnant second, but his normally voluble staff held their tongues, waiting to see if their major planned to drop another bombshell into their midst.

"Miss Beckett, if I may introduce my staff?"

"Of course, Major," Kate nodded graciously.

"Captain Lance Faircloth, Commander of Company A and second in command of the battalion."

The slightly built officer rose to his feet and offered his hand for a shake. "Pleasure, ma'am."

"Captain," she returned with a smile "1st Lieutenants Carter Wilson, George Ramseur, and Bates Hamilton, Commanders of Companies B, C, and D respectively."

"Gentlemen."

"And finally, 1st Lieutenant Kevin Ryan, Commander of the Indian Scouts, and Sergeant- Major Javier Esposito."

"Delighted, Miss Beckett."

Kate addressed the young Irish officer and the gruff, grizzled noncom. "It's an honor to meet you, and you as well, Sergeant."

She glanced at the group of men. "Sorry to interrupt your supper."

"Won't you join us, Miss Beckett?" a chorus of voices implored.

"I would love to," she replied, directing her dazzling smile at each of them.

Major Castle arranged her saddle to make a seat and placed it in an advantageous location close by the fire but not too close. Kevin handed her a tin plate and a cup full of liquid. The plate contained several strips of bacon, cooked thoroughly. One might even say charred. Additionally, two square biscuit-like concoctions graced the battered plate.

Castle, who had seated himself next to her, offered a bit of advice. "Hardtack is called that for a reason; don't try to bite off a piece. Soak it in your coffee first. That'll soften it enough that your teeth will probably survive."

"Coffee?" Kate responded gratefully. Ignoring the fact that the tin cup was quite warm, she snatched it up and drank a deep gulp. She sighed contentedly. It was readily identifiable as coffee which was better than she expected.

Major Castle excused himself to check on the sentries.

Predictably, Lieutenant Ryan raised the question everyone wanted to ask but couldn't quite get up the nerve. "Miss Beckett, did I understand the major? You're going to be with us for the entire campaign?

"That's correct, Lieutenant. There and back again, barring catastrophe."

"Why?" Captain Faircloth blurted. His face aflame with embarrassment, he stuttered, "I'm s-s-sorry, Miss B-Beckett, I d-didn't mean to p-p-pry."

"Quite all right, Captain. I'm a journalist. I have an assignment to report on this campaign. Now, would you help me do my job and answer some questions?"

The officers traded looks. "What would you like to know?" Captain Faircloth asked with reluctance, having gained control of his stutter.

"What's it like having Major Castle for a commander?"

"Never a dull moment," Lieutenant Ryan chuckled and the others immediately joined in.

"Can you give me some examples?" Kate requested, extracting a leather-bound journal and a pencil from her saddle bag. She flipped to a blank page and waited expectantly with the pencil poised for action.

"Well," Lieutenant Wilson mused, "the major is definitely a busy soldier is a happy soldier kind of officer."

"Is that unusual?"

"It is the way he does it."

Kate subconsciously leaned forward, sensing a story.

Lieutenant Wilson continued without any further prompting. "Take training for example…"

"Don't all cavalry units train? General Sheridan told me that the 7th Cavalry was considered an elite regiment. He wanted me to accompany the 7th," Kate said, puzzled.

Lieutenant Ramseur spoke up. "Consider one of the basic skills of a soldier, marksmanship. The Army allots twenty rounds of carbine ammunition per trooper per year for target practice. So any pretensions to eliteness are a bunch of hogwash. From what I hear, the 7th hasn't done any marksmanship training in over a year."

Lieutenant Hamilton found himself compelled to contribute. "I used to be with the 7th and I can assure you that what you just heard is true. Don't get me started on horsemanship. If you can't ride and can't shoot, you can't fight."

Kate shivered and not from the relatively mild night air. That's the regiment the general wanted me to be with. It sure looks like he lied to me. What's going on?

"Miss Beckett…? Are you okay?" Captain Faircloth's voice broke her out of her ruminations.

"Sorry, Captain. Faircloth, Just chasing a couple of thoughts. Does your regiment have a different approach to training?"

"It starts when a recruit arrives at the post. Most recruits are not familiar with guns. So, one of the marksmanship instructors works with them until they can hit a man-sized target ten out of ten shots at two hundred yards. Once they pass that test, each trooper is required to fire twenty rounds per week and requalify every quarter."

"That's quite a program," Kate admitted. "How did you get the Army to provide the extra ammunition?"

The officers broke out in a paroxysm of throat clearing. "The Army didn't provide it."

"How did you get it then? Steal it? Confiscate it?"

"Captain Castle knows people."

Kate filed that fact away in her mind for later investigation. "What else can you tell me?"

Lieutenant Ryan piped up immediately. "He's writing a book."

"Is he now? What kind of book?"

"A book on cavalry tactics. He was a professor at the Virginia Military Institute immediately after the war. There seems to be a kind of black cloud that follows him everywhere he goes. He was only at VMI for a little over a year. He left suddenly and disappeared for a while."

Lieutenant Wilson took up the narrative. "I was a student of his at VMI. He was a brilliant teacher. There were, of course, lots of rumors as to why he left but no one really knows. When he reappeared he was teaching at the Indian school at Camp Supply down in Oklahoma. While he was at Camp Supply he had some sort of falling out with Custer and disappeared again for almost a year. He finally ended up at Fort Ellis."

"Seems a bit controversial," Kate noted.

"Oh, he is, Miss Beckett, you have no idea," Lieutenant Ramseur said. "I think some of his trouble is because he's a Reb."

Major Castle was a Confederate?" That was news.

"Yep, Forrest, Wade Hampton, Mosby, he learned cavalry tactics from the best."

"General Terry and Colonel Gibbon seem to have a high opinion of him."

"That's because they are good judges of men." Sergeant-Major Esposito spoke for the first time. Kate noticed that the others nodded their agreement. "Miss Beckett, if you'd permit, I'll escort you over to the picket line to make sure that your horse is set for the night

"Thank you, Sergeant, that's kind of you." Once they were out of hearing range of the group around the campfire, Kate addressed Sergeant-Major Esposito. "How long have you been with the captain?"

"Six years, ma'am. He's one of the best cavalry commanders in the Army. If anyone can get you through this campaign alive, it's Major Castle." They reached the picket line and found Pasha settled in nicely. Kate gave him a quick rubdown and made certain he had an extra ration of oats. She had no doubt that he would need as much energy as he could get, come sunrise.

As they made their way back to the tent Sergeant Major-Esposito turned to Kate. "Ma'am, there's a lot of hurt in the major's past. It's his story to tell but if you get him to talk it might help him.

Whoa, Kate thought. Wasn't expecting that. She halted and turned to face Esposito. "Why me, Sergeant? I only met Captain Castle a couple of hours ago."

The sergeant weighed his words carefully. "I believe you're a woman who will tell the truth and damn the consequences. Captain Castle knows things that need to be told. He's a good man, a good soldier, and a good commander. He shouldn't be carrying some burdens alone. And you seem to be a good listener."

Kate drew a deep breath before answering. "Sergeant, I will keep my ears open and ask questions. If I find a story that needs telling then I will tell it. That much I can promise you."

"Thank you, ma'am, that's all I could ask."

By the time they reached the campfire Major Castle had returned from his inspection and he and Lieutenant Ryan were discussing how to best utilize the Indian scouts. The other officers had retired to their bedrolls and manly snores soon reverberated across the bivouac.

"Sergeant." Castle addressed Esposito.

"Sir."

"Your mission for the balance of the campaign is to stick with Miss Beckett come hell or high water."

Sergeant Esposito gave a sharp nod. "Understood, sir. By life or by death, I will protect her."

Kate predictably protested. "I can take care of myself."

"You've fought Plains Indians before; have you, Miss Beckett?" Castle replied with only the merest hint of snark.

"Er…no, of course not."

"Then allow me to keep you alive until you actually can take care of yourself." Kate rolled her eyes, causing Castle to chuckle. "You are clearly a strong, independent woman. There's no shame in someone watching your back."

Kate was only slightly mollified but blaming Major Castle for her insecurities was patently unfair. He had treated her with utmost respect to this point and her assignment was much too important to blow up on some perceived slight.

Sergeant-Major Esposito cleared his throat with a gravelly cough. "You can watch my back, Miss Beckett."

Kate's brows peaked for a second. "It would be an honor, Sergeant," she responded with a smile.

Castle was trying to stifle a belly laugh. Esposito was a total hard case, not much given to sentiment. But this woman had him wrapped around her finger in a couple of hours.

"Miss Beckett," Castle stated, "your back watching would be more effective if you were familiar with firearms."

"Major, I think you will find me adequately proficient with almost any type of firearm." She reached for her saddlebag and withdrew a small pistol. "This is always with me. I'd be glad to give you a demonstration if you'd like."

"I'll take you up on that, tomorrow."

.

When Kate seemed, a little disappointed Castle hastened to reassure her. "Discharging a weapon in the middle of a bunch of sleeping soldiers is not a good idea."

"What time should I wake the men, sir?" Esposito queried.

"I want to be on the trail at dawn."

"I'll be retiring then, sir. Good night, miss."

"Good night, Sergeant. Major Castle, may I have a few minutes of your time?"

"Of course. Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to flesh out some details from my discussions tonight." At Castle's suggestion they strolled down to the riverbank, giving them a modicum of privacy.

"Kate, I'll answer your questions with one proviso. If I say something is off the record, then you don't publish it."

"All right, but I reserve the right to try to convince you otherwise."

"Fair enough. So ask away."

"Is there some sort of bad blood between you and General Custer?

"Yes, and it's colonel."

"What?"

"Custer's rank is lieutenant colonel. He was a brevet (temporary) major general during the Civil War.

"I take it that you don't like him very much."

"I hate the bastard."

Kate shivered. She wouldn't have believed that the genial officer she had just met was capable of such fury and vitriol. "What happened?" she questioned.

Castle was silent for several minutes before releasing an audible sigh. "Kate, this is one of those things you can't publish."

She nodded her understanding.

"Prairie Flower."

"A flower?" Kate asked, puzzled.

"No, a woman. Prairie Flower was the daughter of Two Moons, one of the principal chiefs of the northern Cheyenne. I taught at the Indian school in Oklahoma for a while. She was one of my students."

"How old was she?"

"Fifteen or sixteen. She was beautiful, smart, and one of the kindest people I ever met."

"Sounds like you cared for her," Kate observed.

"I was head over heels in love with her."

"A little young," Kate commented.

"Nothing untoward ever happened," Rick asserted. "Anyway, they found… I, ah, had to leave and I never saw her again." He released a sigh that was laden with such angst that Kate felt the sting of tears.

"That's not the whole story, is it?"

"No. Custer arrived at Camp Supply to prepare for his campaign against the southern Cheyenne. Prairie Flower caught his eye and he was ultimately able to charm her into a relationship. She became pregnant and he abandoned her. Her father refused to accept her and her baby so she went to stay with her uncle, Black Kettle, Chief of the southern Cheyenne. When Custer's troops attacked Black Kettle's village at the Battle of the Washita, she and the baby were killed. So, Miss Beckett, now you know."

"I'm very sorry, Major." Kate had a sudden thought. "Is that why you got so upset when General Terry threatened to have me accompany the 7th?"

"Yes, you deserve better than being a notch on his bedpost."

"I think I could have handled the situation," Kate said. "But it's sweet that you were concerned about me." She tried but failed to stifle a yawn.

"We should get some sleep," Castle suggested. "Long day tomorrow."

Kate looked around. "Where should I…?"

"Just pick an open spot and spread your bedroll."

Ten minutes later they were both sound asleep.