The Fugitive Son by Adell Harvey, Mari Serebrov Page A

deal with a captive. “He is one of yours, then?
    “Not exactly one of ours. But a good man. We’ll take care of him.” Major Crawford replied. Turning to Andy, he said, “The chief tells me you were looking for the Army. Wanting to join up?” He grinned widely to show Andy he was joshing and that he knew full well why Andy was looking for them. “Still scouting for Old Brigham?”
    “It’s a long story,” Andy said quietly.
    “We’ll have plenty of time when we head back to Laramie. You can tell me all about it.”
    So he was to be a prisoner – probably the first in the Utah War. Andy wondered whether the Army shot prisoners or locked them up.
    “Untie him and let him stretch his legs,” Major Crawford ordered his men. “And give him back his horse, his rifle, and his duffel. He’ll need them on the long ride ahead.”
    The soldiers seemed bewildered as they returned Andy’s possessions. And Andy was equally bewildered. Why was Major Crawford being so kind to him? Was he plotting some wicked revenge later, when they were away from the friendly Indians?
    The soldiers finished their business with the Bannock, doing some highly effective trading. They loaded plenty of berries, dried fish, and other natural provisions into their saddle packs in exchange for the beaver and buffalo robes they had previously bargained for in the north.
    The chief and Major Crawford decided to forgo the usual day of games and sports, as both groups had important business to attend to. The Bannock needed every spare minute to get their hunting done before returning to their own boundaries. The soldiers knew the Mormons were heading their way, and they were hoping to meet up with the troops from Kansas as soon as possible.
    Major Crawford invited Andy to ride with him at the front of the contingent. “Still don’t trust me, do you?” Andy asked.
    “Should I? What are you really doing here?”
    Andy looked over at the major. “I’m not exactly sure. I spent the winter at Devil’s Gate with a few others. We ‘bout froze our tails off, waiting for somebody from Great Salt Lake to rescue us.” He shrugged, a rueful look crossing his face. “Instead, Porter Rockwell and his men showed up and conscripted us all into the newly reorganized Nauvoo Legion. We didn’t even know there was a war going on and still don’t know what’s happening.”
    “I heard about the tragedy at Devil’s Gate,” Major Crawford said, his voice full of sympathy. “And the girls? What happened to Ingrid and Anne Marie?”
    Andy choked back a huge sob. “Anne Marie died in childbirth. Ingrid and I helped deliver the baby, but it was too late for Anne Marie.” Anger resonated in his voice. “She’s lying in a cold trench with about fifty other unfortunate bodies.”
    “And Ingrid? Where is she?”
    “I don’t rightly know. Relief wagons came from Salt Lake right after Anne Marie died, and I put Ingrid and Ammie, the baby, on one of the wagons. I knew you told her to ask Jim Bridger for help, but I don’t know if she managed to get away.”
    The major paused, thoughtful. “We were by Fort Bridger a month or so ago, and some of the Indians who hadn’t left for their northern hunting grounds mentioned a golden-haired white girl with a baby who had spent the winter there. I hoped against hope it was Ingrid, but nobody knew what happened to her. I’m praying she caught a ride with a wagon train heading to Oregon.” His voice grew wistful as he confessed, “I really loved that girl.” He turned and looked Andy in the eye. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
    “Strongly suspected it,” Andy admitted. “I saw the same look in your eye when she was around that I got when Anne Marie came by.”
    The two broken-hearted young men rode along in silence, each contemplating all they had lost. With a sudden “Halt!” Major Crawford stopped his riders at a beautiful clearing along the river. “We’ll set up camp here tonight,” he ordered.