Fun facts about the forts of Dakota Territory: Fort Abraham Lincoln was originally called Fort McKeen and did not exist until 1872. It happened to be run by the one and only General Custer until his death at Little Big Horn in 1876. That site is now a state park, which features the Custer family home, on the west side of the Missouri River. Fort Lincoln (without the Abraham) was built in 1895, on the east side of the river. The second Fort Lincoln was used during WWII as an internment camp and then later as the United Tribes Technical College campus. It still serves as the UTTC campus today in Bismarck, ND.

None of this has anything to do with the story, since this takes place in 1864, but I thought I'd share just in case anyone else finds these things interesting! Clearly, I'm taking some creative licensing here to stick with Jess declaring he "rode dispatch out of Fort Lincoln".

Another huge thanks to those who continue to read, comment, and support this work in general! It is hugely appreciated.

Might want to take a peek back at chapter 1 if it's been a while since you've read it… *hint hint*

Enjoy!

Chapter 15: Jess in the West

Jess and twenty-odd other men from the prison went north with Major James Stanton and his contingent. From St. Louis they traveled by steamboat up the Missouri River to Omaha, where they picked up needed supplies and transferred to wagons for the rest of the trip. The journey was long and relatively uneventful. Like Jess, many of the other former prisoners were malnourished and weak. The regular rations and fresh uniforms were a welcome relief from what they'd faced before.

Jess found being in such close proximity to Major Stanton interesting to say the least. The other man was definitely a guide and seemed to be a fairly gifted one at that, but his methods were much less subtle than either Beth's or Colonel Young's had been. Colonel Young had usually placed a subtle hand on Jess's shoulder when he needed a little grounding, nearly drowning Jess with feelings of calm and safety. Major Stanton, on the other hand, was much more likely to cuff Jess on the back of the head and simply order him to sort himself out. This came as a shock to Jess, who had assumed all guides must be gentle, patient, and understanding, but he had to admit that he found the brusque strategy effective. He was starting to realize just how little he knew about others like him. Despite the heavy ache of losing Tommy, missing Knute, and parting on poor terms with Duncan, Jess was feeling more like himself than he had in months.

Jess spent most of their northbound journey resting and trying to gain back some of the weight he'd lost. As they got closer to their destination, Jess started to learn just how cold a place could be. He'd always believed the preachers when they told him hell was hot. After relocating to the northern plains in January, though, Jess wasn't convinced there could be anything worse than the brutal, frozen wind slicing across the flats. It whipped through the wagons and settled straight into a man's bones, no matter how many layers he wore. He vowed to himself that as soon as the war in the east was over and his contract was up, he was headed straight back to Texas faster than a grass fire with a tail wind. On the coldest of nights, Jess did his best to conjure up home in his mind. He'd imagine the green grass and the blue sky, with a few puffy white clouds up above. Most of all he'd imagine a sun that actually gave off warmth like it should, instead of just the watered-down illusion of it. He'd finally drift off to sleep once he could recall the smell of the sun-soaked prairie. He missed it dearly.

When they finally did reach the fort, it was well after dark. The men and the stock alike were ready to drop. The new recruits were ordered directly into their barracks, choosing bunks as they went, and the entire group was asleep in minutes. The next morning the staff sergeant issued them each another winter uniform kit, a rifle, and a sidearm with a holster. After they were fully outfitted, they were instructed to fall out for inspection. That was the first time Jess met their commanding officer, Colonel Elliot Shaw.

Jess stood at attention with the rest of the men, his eyes straight ahead, as the colonel made his way slowly down the line. Jess observed him silently. He was a tall man, broad in the shoulders, with salt and pepper hair. His face was creased from years of sun and wind, and he looked to be in his later forties. The colonel paused when he reached Jess, and Jess had the distinct impression that the colonel was looking straight through him. He worked hard not to blink or follow the other man with his eyes as he moved on again. Out of the corner of his gaze, though, Jess clearly saw the cock-sure grin on Stanton's face. He huffed out a small puff of air through his nose, nearly silent, in response to that arrogant smirk. Immediately, the colonel turned his head sharply to look back down the line. His gaze settled on Jess, and Jess had no choice but to stand frozen. He didn't even dare to breathe.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the colonel turned around again and moved on with the inspection. Jess soon felt a bubble of amusement that wasn't his own. Intuitively, he knew without a doubt that it was Stanton, silently laughing at him. Jess closed his eyes as realization dawned on him. He's a sentinel, like me, Jess thought, and Stanton is his guide. There was no other way the colonel could have heard Jess's exhale from half-way down the formation. The silent little flutter of approval from Stanton confirmed that Jess was right.

Colonel Shaw turned out to be the opposite of Major Stanton in just about every way. Where Stanton was loud and expressive, Shaw was reserved and almost regal. It seemed like the two could share an entire conversation with just a look. Shaw undoubtably called the shots, but Stanton voiced the orders. They couldn't have been more different, but the two of them worked together seamlessly. Jess was amazed. After all, he'd never met another sentinel before. Seeing a real pair work together was truly a sight to see. Jess was curious and eager to get to know the colonel better, maybe to even ask him questions, but he didn't know how to go about approaching someone so far above his own rank. The colonel was a quiet man to everyone, but for whatever reason he seemed especially aloof to Jess. Jess tried to tell himself he was just imagining things. Besides, Jess had other things to worry about.

It was no secret where Jess and the others had been recruited from, and names like "traitor" and "coward" were thrown about freely in the barracks and the mess. Jess was involved in more than a few fistfights on account of his past affiliations. Even though he was still under-weight and his reach was a bit shorter than average, Jess still managed to give about as good as he got. As a result, he quickly became acquainted with extra night guard duties. The first time they were forced to defend the fort from a raid, though, the entire company watched Jess put his own life on the line to protect the rest of them. No one dared call him a traitor after that. Slowly but surely, Jess settled into the life of a "galvanized yank" fairly well.

One morning in mid-March, a few hours before dawn, Jess and his sergeant, Billy Jacobs, were headed back to their bunks after finishing their shift of night watch. Jess kept thinking it must be nearly spring, but the weather remained stubbornly cold and damp. At least the snow had mostly stopped by this time. Before he could even touch the barracks door, Jess heard his name.

"Harper!"

It was Colonel Shaw. Jess groaned internally but turned and stood at attention anyhow. The sergeant stood beside him as they waited for the colonel to approach.

"Yessir?"

"You were a scout before, is that correct?"

"Yessir."

"Good. Directly after morning roll call, get yourself a mount and trail supplies. I have orders for the captain at Fort Totten; see that they are delivered. And Harper, don't forget to pack a map. Can't have you getting lost on your first assignment," he said, already turning away. The words were delivered with little emotion. Even with his keen senses, Jess couldn't detect a single change in heart rate or twitch of a facial expression beyond colonel's typical attitude of vague superiority.

"Yessir," Jess responded, as he watched the colonel walk back toward his own quarters. He and the sergeant stood there for a while longer, watching the colonel's back fade into the pre-dawn darkness. Jess groaned out loud as soon as the colonel was out of sight. He turned to see the sergeant smiling.

"What do you look so pleased about?" Jess groused, finally opening the barracks door. Jess knew he only had a couple of hours to rest before he needed to leave, and he intended to take full advantage of it. "Sarge, didn't your mama ever tell you it ain't kind to take pleasure in another man's misfortune?" He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the rest of the company.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it misfortune, Harper," the sergeant responded, equally as quietly. He was a dedicated leader, born and raised here in the north, who enjoyed getting to know the men under his command. "I'd say the colonel just plain don't cotton to ya," he finished with a teasing smile. He sat down on his bunk and started pulling his boots off.

Jess took off his cap and ran his fingers through his curls before scrubbing his hand across his face. "I know, sarge, and I just can't figure it. I ain't hardly said two words to the man beyond yessir or no sir, and I know it ain't because I'm southern, he treats the rest of 'em just fine." Jess lay down on his own bunk with his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. He didn't even bother with his boots.

Billy looked at Jess curiously. "You really don't see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

Billy scoffed. "Boy, you really are younger than I realize. You young'uns who grew up in the war know a lot about shootin' but not much about people. The colonel just don't like to share, is all."

"Now what in blazes might I be takin' away from him?" Jess asked, slightly exasperated, as he swung his legs back down to the floor and sat up again. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands as he waited for the explanation. He prided himself on noticing more details than most, but clearly the sergeant knew something he didn't.

Billy looked back at Jess, incredulous. "Why, the attention of one particular major?" he said quietly, glancing around to make sure the rest of the men were sleeping soundly. "Stanton?"

It was Jess's turn to look incredulous. The sergeant did his best to contain his snort of laughter.

"Harper, I've been stationed here for a lot longer than most, and I'd like to think I know those two pretty well. They're closer than any other command team I've served under. Now, mind you, I've seen them both chase a skirt or two when the opportunity came around, so don't go getting' the wrong idea. But still, I've never once seen the major take an interest in another man the way he has with you. I'd bet a month's pay the colonel is jealous, plain and simple." He nodded as he finished, as if that settled the matter. He lay down in his bunk. Jess still sat at the edge of his own, staring at the sergeant, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a response. There was no way that could be.

"Sarge, have you heard the way Major Stanton talks to me? You'd think he'd never met a dumber, more worthless excuse for a soldier. I don't think he's ever once praised a single thing I've done, and you think he's takin' an interest in me?" Jess shook his head. "Sir, with respect, you're wronger'n last year's almanac."

The sergeant shrugged. "You're tellin' me you ain't ever pulled a pigtail in class?"

"Never been in a schoolhouse," Jess said, laying down again. He heard the answering chuckle and rolled his eyes.

"That explains it, then," Billy said with a yawn. "Get some shuteye, Harper, and take the big bay gelding in the morning. It's a long haul to Fort Totten. He's usually in the middle stall."

Jess gave an affirmative grunt and rolled over to try and sleep for a while, but his mind kept going over Sarge's words. Could the colonel really be jealous of him? Jess knew there was no doubt which sentinel Stanton was loyal to. He may enjoy giving Jess a hard time while helping him stay balanced, but Jess knew he didn't hold a candle to Colonel Shaw as far as the Major was concerned. They were partners through and through. The last thing he wanted was to come between two men who worked as well together as those two, and he still benefitted from the major's guiding. If riding dispatch kept him out of camp and helped everyone get along then so be it. He found himself looking forward to the challenge of a new assignment despite the sleepless night. Finally, just before the night outside started to lighten into dawn, Jess drifted off to sleep.

-Laramie-

Over the next several months Jess covered more miles than he had in his entire life. He crisscrossed the territory, riding from fort to fort and settlement to settlement, delivering news, orders, and a touch of gossip here and there. Although he was always officially stationed at Fort Lincoln, he spent much more time out of the fort than in it. Jess had learned a lot about hiding from patrols while riding for the confederacy. Now, he used the same skills to hide from Indians while tracking down the patrols to deliver orders. His skillset was a perfect match for the job. Whenever he returned to Fort Lincoln, though, Major James Stanton would be there at the gate with a head slap and a scathing remark. Things were just about as good as Jess could hope for.

The big bay had become his closest companion. He'd privately named him Scout, since they were scouting the country together, but he would never have admitted it to anyone. Army mounts weren't named as a general rule, and he didn't want anyone thinking he was soft. Today, he and Scout were traveling to the outer edges of the territory to warn the folks at Fort Meade about Cheyenne war parties in the area. He was tired, Scout was tired, and with so many war parties around, Jess was anxious to be inside the walls of the fort. He could already see the Black Hills rising on the horizon, and he hoped they could make it before dark. Of course, nothing was ever simple where Jess Harper was concerned.

Jess pulled Scout to a stop next to a small creek and dismounted. The horse drank while Jess splashed water on his face and filled his canteen. He sat on a nearby log for a moment, letting Scout rest, while he took in his surroundings. Jess wiped the sweat from his brow. He'd never understand how a place could be so dadgummed cold in the winter and blazing hot come summer. He sincerely wished this territory would just pick one or the other and stick with it.

As he mounted up again, he thought he heard something out of place. He focused in on his hearing. Sure enough, there it was again: A scream from a young woman, followed by the whoops of nearby braves. Jess dug his spurs into Scout and took off toward the sound.

Jess was nearly two miles away from what turned out to be a small farm, under attack by a small raiding band of nine braves. As Jess crested the last rise he watched as the woman was dragged from her home and out into the yard, one of the braves attempting to tie her arms behind her back with rawhide. There was no time for planning. Jess dropped the reins, urging Scout on with his knees instead, as he drew both his pistol and his rifle. His only hope was to fire enough rounds that it sounded like many more than just one lonely cavalry soldier. The only body Jess actually aimed at was the one holding the woman. That unlucky one dropped like a stone.

Luckily, caught by surprise and with little to gain from a fight, the remaining braves grabbed their ponies and took off into the hills. Jess continued firing until they were beyond his hearing range. Only once he was sure they weren't coming back did he return to the yard and cautiously approach the house.

He left Scout ground tied by the porch. The place was a bit rundown but not too bad by most standards. The door had been wrenched from its hinges in the attack and was now sagging open. Jess knocked anyway. He felt silly, but he couldn't bring himself to just barge in after such a traumatic scene.

"Ma'am? Are you alright? It's safe to come out now, they've all gone," Jess said. "There's no one here but me." His boots made the floorboards creak as he gingerly stepped around broken window glass and a tipped over table; the place was a mess. Clearly, the woman had put up one hell of a fight. He could hear breathing coming from the bedroom and only one heartbeat. One woman, home alone, scared out of her wits and probably still armed. Jess paused, thinking through his options.

"Tell ya what, ma'am," he said, trying to make his tone as gentle as possible. "My name is Jess Harper, and I'd like to help ya, if you'll let me. I'll be out in the yard, cleanin' up. You can join me when you're ready." With that, Jess turned and walked back out onto the porch.

The first thing Jess did was drag the body of the one dead brave away from the house and out of sight. He could tell by the smell and lack of any sound that all the stock had either been run off or killed. Based on the scene before him, Jess figured the woman had been sitting out on the porch mending clothes when the raiding party came. He righted the rocking chair and set it under the front window. The contents of the sewing basket were strewn through the roses beside the porch. Jess grabbed the overturned basket, kneeled down, and started picking up each tiny button one at a time. As the minutes went by, he listened to the heartbeat inside the house start to slow and the breathing become less ragged. Between the thorny bushes he found a pair of scissors, several quilting squares, and one pocket sized horse figurine that captured his attention. Putting everything else into the basket, Jess sat on the edge of the porch and held the figurine up to take a closer look.

He could tell by both the color and the smell that the horse was made from walnut and had been treated with some sort of neutral smelling seed oil. All of the edges had been worn smooth by years of someone running their fingers over the wood. There was a little notch cut in the horse's face that puzzled Jess, but when he looked up at Scout, he understood. A blaze! He chuckled. Holding it up close to his nose, he could pick up the faintest whiff of pine that must have fallen out at some point. It would have been nearly white.

"Well, would ya lookee there, Scout, it's you!" he told the horse. Scout just snorted at the ground in answer, but it made Jess smile.

The voice behind Jess started him so badly he nearly fell straight off the porch.

"I've had that nearly my whole life," said the girl, standing in the doorway of the house. Jess couldn't believe he'd been so focused on the little figurine that he'd missed hearing her approach. Luckily, when Jess turned, she was no longer holding the shotgun up to her shoulder. Instead, it dangled from her grasp, the muzzle pointed safely at the ground. "Sorry I startled you," she said, stepping out fully onto the porch now. Jess stood and removed his hat.

"No reason to be sorry, ma'am," he said, "I reckon I just wasn't payin' enough attention. I've just been pickin' up your sewing things." Jess subtly looked her over. She seemed to be okay, aside from the general shock of the whole situation. "They didn't hurt ya, did they?" he asked, as he placed the little horse back into the sewing basket.

The young woman leaned the gun up against the wall and dropped into her rocking chair. "No, I'm not hurt," she said. "You arrived just in time." She hugged herself and looked out toward the barn. Jess realized then just how young she really was. She couldn't be any older than he was himself.

"Is this your spread?" he asked, hoping a little conversation would help her settle down. He sat back down on the edge of the porch.

The girl nodded but didn't elaborate.

Jess looked around too, at a loss for what to say next. Thankfully, the girl saved him from having to decide.

"You goin' someplace, soldier?"

"Yes ma'am," Jess replied. "I'm headed to Fort Meade, just at the base of the Hills. There've been raiding parties all through east of here, and I was hopin' to warn them before they got this far. Looks like I'm a little behind schedule," he said, with a small wince.

"As far as I'm concerned, Jess, you were right on time." The girl took a breath and blew it out again. "I reckon I can't stay here and the only safe place to be is that fort. I'd be obliged if you'd take me along."

Jess nodded, glad he hadn't had to try and convince her. "Of course, ma'am. I've only got the one horse, though, and your stock ain't around anymore." He looked over to the barn. "There a buckboard or wagon in there?"

"Should be," she said, "and my name is Sue Ellen Whitlock. You can call me Sue Ellen."

"Pleased to meet you, Sue Ellen," Jess said, as he stood to move toward the barn. He grabbed Scout's reins. "You pack what you need to, and I'll see about that wagon."

Jess was relieved to find out that Scout didn't mind a harness, since he hadn't had a back-up plan. The quarter horse had clearly pulled something before. Jess idly wondered if it had been artillery. While he was hitching the wagon, Sue Ellen had packed a canvas bag with clothes along with one crate containing her sewing basket and photographs. Jess helped her up onto the seat and climbed up beside her. She held her head up high, looking determinedly forward, and they set off toward the hills.

-Laramie-

Jess and Sue Ellen ended up camping one night on the trail thanks to the slower speed of the wagon. It was a cold camp, but Sue Ellen had at least had the presence of mind to pack sandwiches and a few apples for dinner. Jess had been living on biscuits and jerky, so the roast beef was a very welcome change even if it was cold. Jess gave his bedroll to his companion despite her protests, electing to stand guard instead. After Sue Ellen had been able to sneak up on him that afternoon, he wasn't confident in his ability to snap awake. Soon it became apparent that Sue Ellen couldn't sleep either. Both of them ended up sitting side by side on the tailgate of the wagon, watching the stars and listening to the night sounds.

Jess, curious about this young woman, married yet alone, asked a seemingly simple question into the darkness.

"Sue Ellen, where are you from originally?"

She answered with a sigh and for several minutes Jess figured he'd have to stay curious forever, but eventually she started to speak. Once she started, it was like a dam broke inside of her.

She told Jess all about growing up in Illinois, her brothers and sisters, and the store her pa had owned. Her pa had always loved adventure. When her mother had died of cholera, her father decided the whole family needed a change. They joined a wagon train and headed for the western territories.

"He told all us kids that there weren't any stores out west yet, and how much money a man could make if he was the first one in a good spot. He was quite the businessman," she said with a soft smile.

Jess decided she was right pretty when she wasn't scared to death.

She told Jess all about the hardships and tragedies of life going west, with the dispassionate tone unique to those who understand real suffering. Jess definitely understood. Her pa never managed to open up that new store. As his health failed, he arranged that his two remaining daughters be cared for in the local Cheyenne orphanage with the rest of his savings.

"He died a few weeks later," she said, wiping a renegade tear from her own cheek. "I was nine at the time."

Jess stayed quiet, unwilling to intrude into her grief. Unexpectedly, she turned to Jess and smiled. "That's where I came to find my first friend," she said, as she leaned back and reached into her crate. She pulled out the little horse.

"At Christmas time one year, they had a box of donated toys for us. My sister, she chose a ragdoll, but I chose this little guy. I renamed him more times than I can even remember and made up all kinds of stories about him. Stories about someone who would one day come and save me, as if I was a princess in a storybook. I guess, in a way, that finally did happen. Thanks to you and Scout."

Jess was glad it was dark enough she wouldn't see him blush, but he smiled in spite of himself. "I reckon Scout was always destined to find you, ma'am."

She giggled. "I knew it was silly. Anyway, when I was sixteen, Mr. Alexander Whitlock came to the orphanage. He was kind and he knew all the right words to say. Simply put, Alex needed a wife and I needed a home, so I married him. Sure, he was a bit older than the prince I had pictured, and his horse was gray instead of a bay, but he's been a good husband to me. I never planned for my life to turn out this way, but it's better than a lot of alternatives."

Jess nodded. "I s'pose you're right about that," he said, looking up at the stars again. They sat quietly a while longer, as the moon rose in the sky.

"Alright now, Jess Harper," Sue Ellen said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "You've heard my whole story now, front to back. It's your turn," she informed him, her chin held high.

Jess snorted out a laugh at her attitude. In that moment though, she reminded him a lot of Francie and how she'd spoken to him the day he left with Tommy. Something about that, combined with the warm, soft night air, had Jess spilling his guts before he could even consider denying her.

He told her a significantly abridged version of his life in Texas and his time in the war. He told her about Tommy, about Knute and Duncan, and about all the places he'd been. Finally, before he could chicken out, he told her about Francie and how he hoped to track her down again once he could return to Texas. He talked so long his throat felt hoarse, and he had to reach for his canteen. He hadn't shared his life with anyone in so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like.

Sue Ellen sat quietly beside him the whole time, never interrupting, but she did gently squeeze his hand in the darkness when he spoke of losing Tommy. When he finished his story, she squeezed his hand again.

"You'll find her, Jess," she said, with a quiet sort of confidence. "I've got a powerful feeling about that. You'll make it back to Texas and I'm sure you'll find her someday, somehow." She smiled, and Jess smiled back. Just for a little while, here in this moment, Jess found he could trust her words. She believed it, and so would he. Sue Ellen hopped down from the tailgate and cautiously, as if afraid to spook him, kissed Jess on the cheek. That small innocent act had Jess's face burning again in less than a heartbeat.

"Good night, Jess," she said, moving over to the blankets again.

"Good night, Sue Ellen."

Jess was forever grateful that his voice held steadier than his hands did.

-Laramie-

They reached the gates of the fort by midmorning the next day. Even before Jess had helped Sue Ellen down from the wagon, there was quite a commotion behind them.

"Ellie! Ellie! Oh, thank the Lord you're safe, Ellie!" a man yelled, running across the compound.

Sue Ellen, hearing the nickname, ran to meet him. He swung her around, her skirt making a wide arc, before pulling her in close. That must be Alex, Jess thought. He smiled at the look of pure joy and relief on both of their faces. He handed Scout off to another private with instructions to feed and water him while he went to find the commanding officer.

The next morning, Jess was already saddled and ready to leave again. As he led his horse back toward the gate, he heard the rustle of a woman's skirts behind him. Turning around, he realized that Sue Ellen had managed to sneak up on him not once but twice now. He smiled.

"Good morning, ma'am," he said.

"Oh, now stop that, Jess, it's still just Sue Ellen," she said, shaking her finger at him with the other hand on her hip. He could see now just how wonderful of a mother she'd make one day. "Before you go, I have something for you."

Jess started to stumble through an excuse, that a gift wasn't necessary, but Sue Ellen wouldn't have it. She just grabbed his wrist, put the little wooden horse in his palm, and folded his fingers over it.

"In case you find anyone else who needs rescuing," she explained, still holding his hand closed around the gift. "I figured you ought to have this with you. I already had my rescue, so it's someone else's turn now."

Jess was floored, and Sue Ellen looked downright pleased at that. She simply gave him another quick peck on the cheek, said goodbye, turned on her heel, and walked away.

Without anything else to do, he carefully packed the figurine in his saddle bags. Once it was securely wrapped in a handkerchief, he swung up into the saddle and rode through the open gate and headed north to Fort Lincoln.

He knew that no matter how many more trips he made through the territory, this was one he'd never forget.