27
Fort Daniels, 3 March, 1871
Late Friday morning, Chad was walking to the mess hall for an early lunch when the sound of a crowd gathered in the square in the middle of the base pulled him from his frustrated thoughts. He pushed aside the memory of the conversation he ruminated over—Perkins was being difficult again, and since Chad’s last conversation with Claire, he didn’t have the patience he once did—and followed the noise. The crowd parted for him, and he took note of the facial expressions. The soldiers smiled, even the ones on crutches or with empty sleeves pinned up.
He reached the front of the crowd, where he found Patrick and Claire, both smudged with dust and looking exhausted. Not that he could see much of their faces under their tinted goggles, but the slump of their shoul
