The Scout's Bride. Kate Kingsley

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СКАЧАТЬ had returned to Fort Chamberlain.”

      Ducking his balding head, the teamster mumbled into his beard, “Got in last night. How are you, Mrs. Emerson?”

      Jack frowned, taking note of her wedding band. He hadn’t seen it yesterday. And he hadn’t been looking for it just now when she had felt so nice in his arms. Mrs. Emerson, eh? Well, damn.

      “Sorry to hear of your husband’s passin’, ma’am.” Malachi struggled with the formal words. “I ain’t had time for a proper call, but I aim to visit you soon as I can to pay my respects.”

      “That’s very kind, Mr. Middlefield. I’ll look forward to it.” Rebecca favored him with another smile before turning to Jack. “How is your arm this morning, Mr. Bellamy?” she asked coolly.

      “Better,” he answered, his tone just as aloof.

      “And how is Private Greeley?”

      “Sleeping, but Doc says his leg looks as well as can be expected.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Thank you for your kindness to Teddy… and to me.”

      She glanced up at him, alert for any sign of insinuation or mockery in his blue eyes, but he stared off across the parade ground and went on uncomfortably, “I suspect I wasn’t the easiest patient you ever had, though the closer I got to the bottom of my flask, the hazier things became.”

      He didn’t remember what had happened, Rebecca realized, almost limp with relief. Then, irrationally, she felt a stab of disappointment. That kiss had shaken her to the soles of her boots and he didn’t even remember.

      “I woke up this morning, almost as good as new,” the scout concluded, smiling and far too handsome and clear-eyed for her liking.

      “If you gentlemen will excuse me—” she nodded briskly in farewell”—I must get home.”

      “I’ll walk you,” Injun Jack informed her, offering his arm.

      She balked. “No, thank you.” It was one thing to chat with him on the headquarters porch and quite another to be alone with him. What if he remembered, after all?

      “Pardon me, Injun Jack.” Private Ballard appeared beside them. “Colonel Quiller wants to see you and he has ordered me to take Mrs. Emerson home. At once.”

      The big scout’s jaw set belligerently. “Tell him I’ll—”

      “Mr. Bellamy, you really should go to the colonel,” Rebecca blurted, grateful for the interruption. “After my conversation with him, I doubt he’s in the mood to be kept waiting.”

      “He is pretty riled, sir.” The orderly stepped between them, nervous but insistent. “I’ll see her home.”

      “I’m perfectly capable of finding my way across the parade ground alone in broad daylight, Private,” she cut in hotly, “and you may tell your commander as much. Good day, gentlemen.”

      “Whatcha reckon Quiller said to that poor little widder?” Malachi mused as she marched away. “She’s usually got a downright sunny disposition.”

      “The ‘poor little widder’ seems to have a temper, too,” Jack said with a chuckle. She had fire behind that cool, proper and— the idea crept up on him—soft exterior. Frowning thoughtfully, he went into the colonel’s office.

      

      “Botheration,” Rebecca mumbled under her breath when she heard a shout behind her. Turning reluctantly, she allowed the adjutant to overtake her. “Good day, Lieutenant.”

      “Isn’t it warm to be playing chase, Rebecca?” he grumbled as he crossed the quadrangle toward her. “I’ve been calling since you left headquarters. Didn’t you hear me?”

      Handsome and dashing, Francis Porter was everything an adjutant should be, from the toes of his polished boots to his lush, waxed cavalry moustache. But just now that moustache drooped in the heat and his aristocratic face was flushed from exertion.

      “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t listening.”

      “I guess you weren’t thinking either, wandering around without an escort,” he sighed, shaking his head indulgently. “Whatever shall I do with you, Becky, except see you home?”

      “It’s really not necessary.”

      “It’s most necessary.” Taking her hand, he placed it in the crook of his arm. “Don’t you know I want to take care of you?”

      “You’ve been very kind to me since Paul’s death, Francis,” she said quickly, hoping to escape the inevitable.

      “I could be kinder,” he persisted as they walked to Officers’ Row. “I’ve only just learned of your bill at the trading post.”

      She glanced at him sharply, unwilling to ask how he knew.

      “Paul, God rest him,” he continued, “had extravagant taste. You shouldn’t have to bear the burden alone. Let me help you.”

      He had no idea what he was asking, Rebecca thought, shaking her head firmly. “You are a good friend, but no, thank you.”

      “A friend,” he muttered. “You know how I feel about you, Becky. I can hardly believe you think you must seek employment to stay at Fort Chamberlain.”

      “You heard about my conversation with the colonel?”

      “It sounded more like an argument from where I was, on the other side of the partition.”

      They walked in silence, Rebecca’s spirits sinking with every step. No doubt the gossip was already spreading. Everyone at the fort would know about the scene by nightfall. And everyone would be just as disapproving as Francis.

      When they reached her house, the young officer turned to her. “I know Paul has been dead a short time, Becky, and I beg your forgiveness if my haste seems indecent. But surely you’ve deduced my intentions by now.”

      Imagining she could feel her neighbor’s nosy stare from behind lace curtains, Rebecca tried to stop him, but once the lieutenant had begun, the words poured from him in a rush.

      “Marry me and stay in Kansas. I’m sure the Old Man will grant permission, even though your mourning period is not over. As he told you, he wants what’s best for you.”

      “Oh, Francis…” She hesitated, framing a tactful refusal. “You are kind, but it is too soon for me to remarry. Thank you, though, for your gallant offer.”

      “Will you promise, at least, to consider my suit, Becky?”

      “I promise,” she agreed, unwilling to hurt his feelings. How could she explain, when he regarded her so hopefully, that she would not marry again except for love?

      “Then I will ask no more for now.” With a possessive smile, he carried her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Good day, Rebecca.”

      “Good day.” Reclaiming her hand, she fled to the relative privacy of her quarters.

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