Off to Fort Apache–or Not?

May 1878, Fort Laramie, Wyoming

I no sooner got settled here at Fort Laramie in Wyoming Territory, and the Army has decided to transfer Pa down to Arizona. Fort Apache to be specific. The only good thing I can say about this move is that maybe . . . just maybe . . . I won’t have to endure another Wyoming winter. Last winter was brutal, as I wrote in another journal entry.

The sad thing is . . . well . . . I reckon I’ve lost my horse-training job. Really, five dollars a month is a lot of money for a twelve-year-old boy, and I love that job, even in the bitter cold. Sergeant Tulley, the stablemaster, shook his head at the news. “Boy, why don’t you let Captain Prescott and the missus head down to Apache country and leave you here? I can’t lose you. Them horses all perk up the minute they see ya comin.” He gave me his sergeant scowl and went on. “You could bunk with the enlisted men, or even bunk with Randy McGuire, and I’d keep ya under m’ wing. Now, what do you say about that? And,” he added as an after thought, “I’ll raise your pay to six dollars a month, even if I hafta pull it from my own meager pay.”

“And just so’s you know,” the sergeant added gruffly, “I’ve already talked to the major about it, and he’s on board with you sticking around.” He winked.

I’ve been thinking the sergeant’s offer through, and the more I think about it, the more I like it. I don’t want to be separated from the fort’s horses, not when I’m really getting the hang of being an expert horse trainer. Who knows if the commander of Fort Apache would let me anywhere near their horses? I pondered for a whole week before asking Pa about Sergeant Tulley’s offer. I brought it up at suppertime, when Pa’s belly was comfortably full of Mama’s beef stew and cornbread. Pa was leaning back in his chair, relaxing when I told him my idea. I made sure I mentioned that Major Bradford was on board too.

The chair legs banged on the wooden floor, and Pa sat up straight. “You want to do what?”

I explained again, trying not to put a pleading note in my voice. “The soldiers here at Laramie all know me, Pa. They’ll look out for me. I can’t leave the horses . . . I just can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can, young man,” Mama piped up just then.

I groaned, almost forgetting that my staying on at Fort Laramie was a joint decision by Pa and Mama. I should have buttered her up more instead of just blurting it out, I thought.

I turned to Mama. “Please, Mama? Randy’s my friend, and I know my way around the fort. It’s safe as safe can be. No Indian wars. Just lots and lots of soldiers and horses. Plenty of kids too. I promise I’ll keep up my studies with the tutor Major Bedford uses for his own children. And”–I swallowed–“it would just be through the summer. I promise I’ll come down to Fort Apache before school starts in the fall.” Then I gave Mama my best grown-up smile.

Mama didn’t say a word. I think she knew how much I loved working with the horses and earning a man’s pay. She’s seen me grow up mighty fast these past couple of years after leaving the Circle C, faster than I think she’d like.

I waited on tenterhooks for her to say something. Anything.

She looked at Pa and said, “What do you think, Robert?”

Pa shrugged. “Our Riley is twelve years old, going on thirteen. He’s older than his tender years might make you think. I remember what I was doing at age twelve.” Pa sighed. “Plowing like a man from dawn to dusk and running the farm when my father had to be gone on his trips up and down the Erie Canal. I was the oldest and had to look after my mother and three younger siblings.” He smiled at me. “Riley has already been on his own for three years, since he was a small fry, with only Uncle Sid to look out for him, out on that California ranch. Look how he turned out? Better than I ever could hope.”

This was true. Cook and Sid worked me mighty hard on the Circle C, and most days they trusted me to get it done without bothering to check up on me. I think I only let them down once or twice, and Cook only had to cuff me a couple of times too. Yep, I grew up fast on my own. Sid sure couldn’t follow me around all day long. The one thing my uncle did, for which I’m forever grateful, is that he taught me the most exciting tricks on a horse’s back. But he kept it secret from the boss…that is, Chad Carter. Cuz Chad was pretty much against any of that kind of folderol.

Pa nodded at Mama. “Yes, indeed, Carrie. I believe Riley is old enough to stay on at Laramie and work. It’s just for four months. He’ll be with us at Fort Apache soon enough.”

Mama pondered a few moments then–reluctantly it seemed to me–nodded.

“Oh, thank you!” I leaped from my seat before she could change her mind. Then I rushed around the table and gave her a hug. Then I gave Pa a hug.

Pa slapped me on the back and promised to put in a good word with his new commander at Fort Apache about my horsemanship skills. “By the time you join us at the fort, I’m quite sure there will be a job open for you, especially if Major Bradford sends along a letter of recommendation.”

When Pa and Mama had loaded up the wagon and headed out of the fort, all the soldiers stood at attention and gave him a nice good-bye. I stood next to Midnight, part of me missing them already, but part of me excited that I was staying behind. Pa actually put me under Sergeant McGuire, Randy’s father, so that makes Randy and me practically brothers for the rest of the spring and summer.

That same day, a new bunch of mustangs showed up at the fort. “Get to work!” Sergeant McGuire yelled, scowling at me. “Private Louis is waiting in the corral back behind the stables.”

“Yes, sir!”