A Bride For The Asking -- (on hold)

Chapter 27--More Unwelcome Surprises

Chapter 27--More Unwelcome Surprises

7:30AM, June 2, 1868

Yankton Hotel, Dakota Territory

Matthew peered into the tiny mirror hanging above the washbowl and frowned, disheartened, at his own image. Danged if his homecoming had not turned into a genuine hen squabble. Between his Ma and Rose’s insults at each other, and Uncle Woody carting his new wife off for home by force foretold no peace for his Pa or Uncle for some time to come.

A preemptive knock set the china washbowl in front of him to vibrating on its stand. Michael dried his face on a towel the hotel provided, blocking out his scowling visage, and reached to pick up his hat.

“Come in,” Matthew called, draping the towel carefully over a rack on the side of the washstand. “It’s not locked.”

“Lieutenant McFarland, I presume,” boomed a stern voice behind him as Matthew set his hat upon his head.

“Major Chambers, Sir,” said Matthew whirling around, his right hand slapping against his forehead, The sound of boot heels clacking together as he came to full attention, his cheeks mottling, echoed in the room.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Major Chambers nodded briskly.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early, Sir,” Matthew tried to apologize.

“Obviously not, Lieutenant McFarland.” Major Chambers said dryly and harrumphed to hide his smile at the officer’s discomfiture. “The truth of the matter is a call of nature had me up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 AM. By the time I got back from the latrine,” Major Chambers confided, sliding his gloves off, and tossing them on to the Lieutenant’s military-neat bed. “I was wide awake and decided to get an early start. Have you had breakfast, yet, Lt. McFarland?”

“Uh, no Sir, Major Chambers,” Matthew stammered.

“Well, I’m hungry as a bear. Do you know any good restaurants?”

“Only one that I know of, Sir. The Yankton Café.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Major Chambers scooped up his gloves and tucked them into his belt. “Lead the way.”

Matthew’s eyebrows rose up level with his hat brim. “Uh, Yes Sir.”

Warily, Matthew led the way out of the room, doing his best to hide his disappointment at this turn of events. He would not get to see Mrs. Rosenthal, Eleanor as he thought of her already, before he returned to Fort Randal. Surely, Major Chambers would oversee her care, and personally escort her back to Fort Randal himself.

***

The Yankton Café was jumping when Matthew squeezed passed a buckskinned clad mountain man nearly blocking the doorway.

“Well, there you are,” boomed Big Nate, slapping Matthew on the shoulder as he passed. “You’d think in a town this small, I’d of run into you sooner than this. I wanted to let you know --.”

Suddenly Big Nate’s eyebrows disappeared into the edge of his fox-fur cap. “Uh, I see you found Major Chambers. I got a table right over here.”

Without waiting to see if they followed, Nate turned and plowed a path through the crowded café of mostly male patrons at this early hour to a table almost directly beneath the moth-eaten moose head. Matthew swallowed back his bile and sat down beneath the sad creature, and eyed the table for fallen moose hairs.

“I’m telling you, this won’t be the last incident concerning the Indians,” Major Chambers mourned between sips of steaming, black coffee a few minutes later.