“Major,” Drew said to a man seated behind a large table covered with papers and ledgers. One pile of paper was weighted down with a pistol. “This is young William McDougall. McDougall, this is Major Pinkney Lugenbeel, commander of Fort Boise.”
“Sir.” Will gave a small bow to the fort commandant.
“I had a telegram a few weeks back from a Caleb McDougall,” Major Lugenbeel said. “You know him?”
Will was confused for a moment, thinking the major referred to his brother Cal, then he realized. “Mac,” he said. “Caleb McDougall is my fa-father. Everyone calls him Mac.”
“Yes, he said you were his son.” The major ruffled through the papers on his desk. “Here it is.” He picked up a page and read, “‘My son with Drew’s expedition. When Drew expected Boise?’”
Will stood mute. So the Army had discovered his and Jonah’s flight from home. What would Drew do to him now?
“Your father didn’t know you were on this expedition?” Drew demanded.
“No, sir,” Will said. “Not until I sent my mother a letter in the last dispatch to Fort Klamath.”
“I see,” Drew said.
Major Lugenbeel looked down at his desk, a hand over his mouth, like he was hiding a grin.
“How old are you, boy?” Drew asked. “You and young Jonah Pershing.”
“Jonah’s seventeen,” Will said. “I’ll be seventeen next week.”
The fort commander chortled behind his hand. “A birthday you’ll be having, is it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, Colonel Drew,” the major said, after another guffaw. “What will you give him for his birthday?”
“Dock his wages for the telegram I’ll send his father,” Drew said. “This isn’t the first time the lad’s made trouble.”
“I’ve done everything you asked of me, Colonel,” Will protested.
Drew shook his head. “You’re a decent scribe, all right. But remember how you got the job? Running away to find your horse in the middle of an Indian attack? Seems you have a propensity for running.”
“Those Indians weren’t attacking,” Will muttered.
“We didn’t know that at the time,” Drew countered. “You disobeyed my order then, and it seems you also hired on as a packer under false pretenses. What shall I tell your parents? That you and young Jonah will return home as soon as we get to Fort Klamath?”
“Yes, sir,” Will said. What else could he say?
Will stood silently while Drew dictated the telegram to Mac and Major Lugenbeel arranged for it to be sent. Then Drew gestured for Will to follow him back to his quarters.
Once Drew was seated at his desk, he frowned at Will. “You’ll be treated as a regular packer from now on. No more scrivening. No more special treatment. You’re a young runaway, not the aspiring officer I had hoped to make of you.”
“Yes, sir,” Will said.
“Your father must be worried sick over your absence, not to mention your mother. How could you do that to them?”
Will remained silent. He wanted to shout that Mac wasn’t his father, would never be his father. He wanted to tell Drew and everyone else in camp that he was no better than the man who had fathered him—whoever that was. A criminal. A violent rapist. He wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.
“Report to Sergeant Geisy,” Drew ordered. “You’re to follow his orders until we reach Camp Alvord. Along with the other packers.”
“Yes, sir.” Will could see his future now—he’d be sent home in disgrace. Mama and Mac would never let him leave Oregon City. He wouldn’t be able to make anything of himself. He’d be stuck doing whatever Mac let him do, never part of the family, and never able to escape it either.
“What happened?” Jonah asked as soon as Will returned to the mules. “Why’d Drew want to talk to you?”
“They know we ran away.”
“What?” Jonah said. “How?”
“Mac wrote the fort commander here. Now Drew knows we didn’t have our parents’ permission to join the militia.”
“Your pa? How’d he know we was here?”
Will shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Major Lugenbeel responded to Mac’s telegram weeks ago. So Esther and Daniel must know, too.”
“So?” Jonah asked. “We’re both seventeen now. Or near enough. Old enough to join up.”
“We were only sixteen when we left,” Will said. “Drew knows we lied.”
“Damn,” Jonah said. “Is he mad?”
Will nodded. “He won’t let me scribe for him anymore.”
