The Guardian

Chapter 15

Jack sat on a hard bench in the sweltering hall filled with mostly men and a very few women. The uniform he wore was made of wool and sweat clung to his body having nowhere else to go. The cigar smoke hung about the room and stung his eyes. He'd never been fond of the things, but wouldn't say no to a stogie if the situation called for one. This one did not.

Nora arrived and squeezed onto the bench next to him. "They haven't started yet," she whispered.

"They've been prattling on for a while now," he replied. "Our place is secure. We're part of the command leading a regiment to Fort Point with supplies and a team of oxen."

"We as in..."

"Myself."

"Jack! You know nothing about the wagon trail. And despite your uniform, you have very little military experience."

"But I know Indians," Jack countered. "I suppose that will be enough."

Nora fanned herself. After a few waves, she turned the fan to Jack. It did nothing to relieve his hellish condition.

Somehow in his subjective mind, Jack understood he was dreaming now. He knew this was important, and so he was desperate to pay close attention to the details. He looked around the room. It was strange to see things through his own eyes, while in the dream experiencing it for the first time.

They were in a courthouse in Washington, D.C. A sign in the town hall noted that this was a public meeting to discuss the wagon train heading to San Francisco, California. He glanced at the flyer in his lap, and the date read March the 25th, 1850. So it must have been all the people in the room heating it up and not the outside temperature.

He looked down at the list in his hand with the supplies he was to requisition: corn meal, flour, crackers, bacon, sugar, coffee, tea, beans, rice, dried apples, dried beef, candles, salt ... The journey would take months and they would hunt on the trail. Nora had been meeting with wives of men making the trip, and she had her own list of what they would need for their personal use, as well as duties she would be expected to perform as the Major's wife.

"All these people seeking gold," she murmured. "How many will die along the way?"

"That's maudlin," Jack smirked.

"I have read accounts of wagon trains. They're dangerous, Jack. Indians are hostile."

"I have some experience with Indians."

"The Comanche?"

"Yes. The Comanche, too." Jack replied. "Never forget, Nora, we encroached on their lands. It is we who have committed the atrocities. They're merely fighting for their right to survive. If we leave them be, no harm should come to us."

"That's not likely, is it?" Nora snorted. "The states look to the west to expand. The Indians will be in the way."

"The Indians won't make it easy."

The organizational meeting seemed to be coming to a close. As a high-ranking officer with the United States Army and second-in-command to the colonel leading the wagon train to California, Jack was given the list of the names of all people joining them, both military and civilian. There were almost 200 names to list. His eyes zeroed in on one name.

One, "Maguire, Bridget – Teacher," was making the trip.

They had just struck gold.

When Jack came to, his head felt like it was about to explode off his shoulders. He took in his surroundings. The horses and cart still remained, but Nora was gone. With the stone.