the words.
Custer chuckled quietly. Then he reached over and put his hand on Libbie’s. “My dear sunshine,” he said. “How flattering it is to have you worry about me after all these years.”
“I confess to being a little worried,” Libbie replied. “This next scout is a little different from the sightseeing expedition you took into the Black Hills. On this one, you are looking for Indians.”
“Libbie, don’t you worry about Autie,” Tom said. “I’ll watch out for him.”
“And who is going to watch out for you, Uncle Tom?” Autie Reed asked.
“Sonny, I have two of these,” Tom said, pointing to the Medals of Honor that were pinned to his tunic. “I assure you, I am quite capable of looking out for myself, my big brother, my little brother”—he looked at Boston—“and especially my little snot-nosed nephew.” He looked at Autie Reed.
“I don’t need you to look out for me,” Autie Reed said, stung by the suggestion. “I can look out for myself.”
“Really? Well, nephew, you were sure looking for me when the bullets started flying over your head,” Tom teased.
“Bullets were flying over your head?” Lorena asked.
“Yeah, Tom’s bullets,” young Autie Reed replied.
“You should have seen him,” Tom said. “I was hiding behind a rock when he came riding up. I shot a couple of bullets over his head and he turned and ran.”
“Which is exactly what he should have done,” Libbie said. “After all, he’s just a boy.”
“I’m old enough, Aunt Libbie. I wouldn’t have been so frightened except I wasn’t expecting anything there.”
“Which should be a good lesson for you,” Custer added, holding up his finger. “Always expect the unexpected.”
“Believe me, Uncle, it is a lesson I have learned well,” Autie Reed said.
As they were just finishing dinner then, Lorena offered to help with the cleanup.
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” Libbie said. “Mary and the servants will take care of everything. Won’t you, Mary?”
“Yes, ma’am, we sure will,” the maid answered with a broad smile.
At that moment, there was a knock on the front door and one of the servants answered. A moment later, she came back into the dining room.
“It’s the singers, sir,” she said.
“Oh, good, good,” Custer said. He looked at his dinner guests. “Come, the singers are here. I think you will enjoy this.”
“Singers?” Lorena asked.
“My dear, every army post goes to great lengths to make sure it has men who can sing,” Libbie said. “And I think we are blessed to have the very best here at Ft. Lincoln.”
“Come,” Custer said. “Let’s step out onto the front porch and listen to them.”
The dinner party moved out onto the front porch where, standing on the lawn before them, there were three ranks of smartly uniformed men. The sergeant in charge saluted, and Custer, Tom, and, belatedly, Falcon returned the salute.
The sergeant turned to his men, held his hands up for a moment, then brought them down. The men burst into song:
After the singing, those on the porch applauded.
“Sergeant Cassidy,” Custer said. “March the chorus to the sutler. Tell Mr. Smith to charge the first drink to my account.”
“We thank the general, sir!” Sergeant Cassidy replied, with a salute. He turned to the chorus. “Detail, right face. Forward, march!”
