Dorman laughed. “Well, if I was a pretty woman, why would I be waistin’ my time marryin’ up with the likes of you? No, sir, I’d go to New Orleans and work in a fancy house makin’ a lot of money.”
Falcon laughed as well. “Mr. Dorman, when we go out this time, I’d like to stay out ten to twelve days. You think we can draw rations for that long?”
“I’ll take care of it for us,” Dorman replied. “But I’d be pleased if you’d drop the mister, and just call me Dorman. I tell you the truth, for a colored man like me, it’s hard to get used to bein’ called mister.”
“I figure every man has the right to be called mister until he does something that changes my mind about him,” Falcon replied. “But if you want me to drop the mister, I’ll do it.”
“Seems a mite friendlier to me is all,” Dorman said.
The encampment was busy with drivers hitching up their teams and with soldiers tending to their mounts. Then, just as Falcon and Dorman were finishing breakfast, Custer’s orderly, John Burkman, came over to them.
“Sir, the general sent me over to tell you that, in case you wanted to tell them good-bye, the ladies are leaving camp now. They’re goin’ back to Ft. Lincoln.”
“I’d be glad to tell them good-bye.” Falcon looked over to where the ladies were getting ready to leave. “Mary isn’t going back with them?”
Dorman chuckled. “No, sir, he ain’t goin’ to be sendin’ her back. Mary, why, she’ll travel with the gen’rul at least till we get to base camp. The gen’rul, he’s a fella that don’t like army rations all that much, so he keeps Mary along to cook for him.”
“Well, having eaten some of her cooking last night, I can’t say as I blame him,” Custer said.
“Now you done gone and hurt my feelin’s Colonel,” Dorman said. “Talkin’ that way ’bout Mary after you was tellin’ me what a good cook I was this mornin’.”
“Here, don’t you go getting all jealous on me, Dorman,” Falcon said, laughing as he walked over to Custer’s tent, where the general, Jimmi Calhoun, and Tom Custer were standing out front to tell the three women good-bye. He stood back, close enough to be there, but far enough back to allow them a little privacy.
“Oh, I have yellow ribbons for all of you to wear until we get back,” Custer said. Reaching down into the side pocket of his buckskin jacket, he pulled out three yellow ribbons. One he gave to Jimmi Calhoun, and one he gave to his brother Tom. “We’ll pin them on you,” he said.
“You do know what it means when a woman wears a cavalryman’s yellow ribbon, don’t you?” Tom asked.
“No, not exactly,” Lorena replied.
“It means you are his girl,” Tom explained, pinning the ribbon on her before she could protest.
As Tom pinned the ribbon on Lorena, she glanced over at Falcon with an expression as if to say,
“Good-bye, Colonel,” Maggie called over to him.
“Good-bye, Mrs. Calhoun.”
“Excuse me a minute, Tom,” Lorena said. She walked over to Falcon and extended her hand. “Colonel, it has been delightful meeting you,” she said. “I do hope we meet again.”
“I’m sure we will,” Falcon said.
Lorena glanced back toward Tom. “He is a very good man, you know,” she said quietly.
“I’m sure he is.”
“He asked me to be here for him when the regiment returns.”
“And will you be?”
Lorena nodded. “Yes, I think I will be,” she said.
“I’m sure he will appreciate it.”
“Colonel, I—”
“You don’t have to say anything, Miss Wood,” Falcon said, interrupting her. “Like you said, Tom Custer is a good man.”
After Lorena walked back to the paymaster’s ambulance, Libbie came over to speak to Falcon. She was smiling brightly as she approached.
“Colonel MacCallister, it was so nice of you to come visit us.”
“It was nice of you and the general to invite me,” Falcon said. “I thoroughly enjoyed my visit.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at Tom Custer, who was now helping Lorena into the ambulance.
“Tom seems quite taken with Lorena. He”—she paused for a moment—“needs someone, if you know what I mean. I hope that isn’t a problem for you.”
“No, of course not. Why should it be a problem?”
“I don’t know. I thought the first night that there seemed to be some mutual interest between you and Miss Wood.”
“Please, Mrs. Custer, don’t worry about it,” Falcon said.
The smile left Libbie’s face, to be replaced by a look of anxiety. “I told Autie’s orderly to look after the general. I would never say anything like this to the general’s face but, oh, Colonel MacCallister, of all the engagements Autie was in during the war, of all previous Indian engagements, I have never had such an overwhelming sense of
