on a worn towel, Poppy trundled forward. She saw Sergeant McCoy and Kuchana walking her way. Beaming, she stepped outside and into their path.
Kuchana had never seen such a huge woman in all her life. There was warmth in the woman’s big brown eyes and an even warmer smile on her thick lips. She heard Gib chuckle.
“Poppy, you look like a sly fox.”
“Sergeant McCoy, I just wanted to thank you.”
Gib glanced at Kuchana who was politely trying not to stare at the Negro woman. “Better thank Kuchana, then. That was her kill we dropped off.”
Picking up her blue calico skirts, Poppy barreled toward the Apache woman. She grinned broadly and gripped Kuchana’s hand. “My name is Poppy, chile. We just got the meat and wanted to thank you.”
Kuchana was overwhelmed by Poppy’s gushing warmth. She stared down at the woman’s ebony skin, amazed at how pink her palms were in comparison. “The food is for all,” she said. Poppy’s callused palms dwarfed her own slender hands.
“And we’ll use it, chile.” Poppy released her hands and grinned at her. “You’re a purty thing. Isn’t she, Sergeant McCoy?”
“Yes she is,” he agreed.
Poppy saw a dull red color creep into Kuchana’s cheeks. “The girl’s blushing.”
Gib grinned. “She’s not used to such personal remarks from strangers, Poppy. Her people are very reserved in comparison to us.”
Nettie leaned forward then, gingerly touching Kuchana’s outstretched hand.
“And I thought Apaches were tough as nails,” Nettie said.
“They’re people just like us,” Gib said with a chuckle.
“They’ve got heart,” Poppy corrected her daughter, relinquishing Kuchana’s hand. “They ain’t got thick skin, Nettie.” A rumbling laugh erupted from her. “I know some officers that are thick-headed as mules, though.”
Gib laughed as he watched the rapport between the three women grow. He saw the glow in Kuchana’s features and her eyes sparkling with new life. Poppy’s motherly nature was making her feel at ease for the first time.
“Nettie, fetch Sergeant McCoy’s pressed clothes. And Kuchana, you come with me, chile.” She grabbed her hand again and led her into the tent.
Poppy opened one of the large, battered leather trunks. “Now, you just stand there, chile. I’ve got something for you.”
Kuchana strained to look over Poppy’s shoulder—difficult, for the woman was as large as a mountain. And Poppy’s friendliness was genuine. She came from the heart.
Poppy threw several pieces of clothing to one side, digging deeper in the trunk. “Now, I know I’ve got them here. Unless Nettie gave them away to the children…”
Kuchana saw Gib saunter to the front of the tent. Nettie came rushing back from another tent, his pressed and folded clothes in her arms. Gib took them and thanked her. He dug out some coins from his pocket and gave them to her.
“Sergeant McCoy, you always pay us too much.”
“Keep it, Nettie.” Ten cents was a lot of money. It could buy a pound of food, and Gib knew that Poppy would put it to good use. The woman was forever feeding the scouts and the other enlisted men who couldn’t afford to buy enough food for themselves. Malnutrition was a real problem within the cavalry. Poppy was always making deals with men who hawked fresh food at the post. She kept it on hand in her large trunks to dole out to the men.
“I found it!” Poppy crowed. She brandished a stick of candy she’d pulled from the trunk. Turning, she gave it to Kuchana. “Here, chile, you suck on this. I bet you never had peppermint before.” Her eyes danced as she watched Kuchana stare at the candy. “Go on, now, eat it.”
Sniffing it cautiously, Kuchana noted it smelled wonderful. Poppy stood there, grinning, as Kuchana put the stick in her mouth. It was pleasantly minty and sweet. Surprised, Kuchana took it out of her mouth and studied it more closely.
“It is sweet, but it is not honey.”
Chuckling, Poppy clapped her on the back. “Chile, you just come around once a day, and Poppy here will fatten you up.”
Kuchana needed some care, Gib thought. And he couldn’t give it to her without being accused of favoritism. Poppy gave him a knowing look, and Gib breathed a sigh of relief. Kuchana might not have a place among the Apaches or the white world, but if he was any judge of the situation, Poppy had just adopted her as part of her own family.
Chapter Five
“Sergeant, I want you to go pick up the food supplies from Jacobsen’s Mine,” Carter ordered, triumph blazing in his eyes. During the two weeks since that woman savage arrived, Dodd had been giving her every detail he could think of. Although she had brought in fresh meat twice, he still didn’t believe she could track. McCoy must have brought down the game and lied for her, he was certain. He saw the disgust in the sergeant’s eyes at his command.
“And take Kuchana with you. You’ll need help with that string of mules to and from the mine. Go get a voucher over at Supply to pay for it.”
What was Carter trying to do? Get Kuchana shot? Gib had watched a pattern develop the past couple of weeks. Carter was trying to get Kuchana in trouble. If Gib hadn’t been as alert as he was with his enlisted men, Carter might have gotten his way. Kuchana was rapidly learning about army and post life, but her naiveté could be her downfall.
Holding on to his temper, Gib drilled the officer with a scathing look. “Sir, it isn’t wise to send a scout up to Jacobsen’s. Those miners are constantly getting raided by Apaches. If I take Kuchana along, there could be real trouble.”
Carter shrugged. The day was just beginning and the sun was already sending hot streamers across the arid land. “Sergeant, just do as you’re ordered. Pick up the ten mules and get up to Jacobsen’s.”
“Sir, those miners hate Apaches.”
“I don’t care,” he said irritably.
“You’ve never ordered one of our scouts along on this supply trip before. Why now?” Sweat was forming on McCoy’s upper lip. He longed to wipe it away with the back of his hand. Carter stiffened, his eyes blazing with anger.
“Sergeant, are you questioning my orders?” he snarled.
“Sir,” McCoy said evenly, “I’m not questioning your orders, just your choice of who should go with me. Normally, one of the cooks goes along to help pick up the officers’ supplies.”
Setting his mouth, Dodd glared up at the tall sergeant. He hated McCoy. The Negroes jumped to carry out the sergeant’s orders. While, when he gave orders, the men were sullen and slow about obeying them. “You may have been considered a brilliant Indian campaigner at Fort Apache, Sergeant, and you may have more medals than I’ll ever get, but you’re not an officer any longer. What you think isn’t important. It’s my responsibility to give orders.” He punched McCoy in the chest. “It’s
