Summer of Promise by Amanda Cabot Read Free Book Online Page B

ghoul, waiting for some captain to die so I can have his rank. Awful, isn’t it?” He frowned again. “You’re lucky. I wish I had a grandfather like yours to pull wires for me. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get you transferred somewhere good.”
    “You don’t know my grandfather if you think he’d do that. He hates the fact that I’m in the Army.” As he mounted the steps to the captain’s office, Ethan didn’t bother to hide the anger that often accompanied thoughts of Grandfather. “I joined the Army despite him.” More precisely, because following in his father’s footsteps was the best way Ethan knew to spite his grandfather.

     
    “Attention!” The company lined up in front of him thrust their shoulders back, their heads up. Ethan’s gaze moved down the row, noting that, despite the constant grousing over ill-fitting uniforms of dubious quality, most of the men would pass even a West Point inspection. Unfortunately, that was not the reason he’d summoned the men. An inspection would have been far easier than today’s duty. Though Ethan had hoped to be leading a search party for Johann Schiller and his accomplice, the captain had informed him that Lieutenant Montgomery would be doing that, while Ethan dealt with another problem. The captain’s idea of priorities didn’t mesh with Ethan’s, but an order was an order.
    “We’ve got ourselves a problem, men.” As if on cue, a pack of snarling dogs bounded toward them, teeth bared, tails announcing that each member of the pack wanted to be the top dog. “Captain Westland is displeased with the number of unleashed canines at the fort. Each and every one of them must be captured.” Although how that would occur, Ethan could only guess. There were at least a hundred dogs, and when they sensed that they were being hunted, they could be as wily as coyotes.
    “If they’re registered,” he continued, “you will return them to their owners and inform said owners that it’s time to register again. Furthermore, you will advise said owners that once their canines are registered, the dogs must be kept under control, either restrained by a leash or kept in a fenced area. Beginning tomorrow, any canines found running loose will be killed.”
    A corporal requested permission to speak. “What happens to the unregistered dogs, sir?”
    “Either you find someone who wants to register them and pay the tax, or . . .” Ethan gestured toward the river. “They meet their fate. Understood?”
    “Ve haf to bathe the dogs?” a private asked.
    “No!” Ethan glared at the men whose faces broke into grins at the absurd question. “No baths. You will drown them.”
    “Down?”
    Swallowing his annoyance, Ethan tried not to be dismayed by the realization that the soldier wasn’t attempting to be amusing. He simply didn’t understand.
    “Hold them down in the river until they drown .”
    The way the soldier shook his head told Ethan it wasn’t because he disagreed with the dogs’ fate but because he still didn’t comprehend the command.
    “Begging your pardon, sir.” Corporal Keller stepped out of formation. “Request permission to translate.” Though his accent was heavy, he always understood Ethan.
    “Permission granted.” What a sorry state the Army had come to, when enlisted men needed an interpreter. They were amateurs, rank amateurs, like Schiller and the other deserter. The would-be bandits hadn’t realized that their chances of success would have been far greater if they’d approached the stagecoach from opposite sides. Amateurs!
    The corporal spoke rapidly, and as he did, Ethan saw comprehension dawning in several of the men’s eyes.
    “Good work, Corporal Keller.” Maybe now Ethan’s day would improve.

     
    It was good that Fort Laramie had boardwalks. Thanks to the rain, the road that circled the parade ground was muddy and dotted with puddles, and the parade ground itself appeared soggy. Abigail would have taken Charlotte’s advice to