The Scout's Bride. Kate Kingsley

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “What’re you grinnin’ at?” Craning his neck, Mal grinned, too, when he saw her. “Don’t she beat all creation?”

      “She does indeed,” the scout murmured, watching her join the officers’ wives in an open tent near the flagstaff. Clustered in the shade, they observed their husbands with pride. Guard Mount, the only duty on this holiday, was proceeding with rousing music and great pomp. Jack scarcely noticed.

      What was it about Rebecca Emerson? he brooded. She was pretty, but no great beauty. She was prissy and stiff, two traits that did not appeal to him. Why, then, was he intrigued by her? And why was he unsettled by faint, improbable fancies… the feel of her trim body molded against his and the taste of her lips?

      The moment the companies were dismissed, Flora nudged her friend and whispered, “Look, that man is staring at us.”

      Rebecca could not tell whether she was affronted or flattered. “What man?”

      “The big, good-looking one under the cottonwood. Who is he?”

      Rebecca stole an inconspicuous peep across the wide stretch of parade ground just as the man turned a broad, familiar back. “Injun Jack,” she muttered, an unwelcome blush staining her cheeks.

      “Injun Jack?” Mrs. Little overheard. “Do you know him, Mrs. Captain Emerson?” she demanded.

      “I… I just met him at the hospital.”

      “What a terrible man,” she said with a shudder. “I hope you were not subjected to the same crude behavior as I.”

      “No, ma’am.” Rebecca nearly sighed in relief when the woman turned to speak to someone else. If Mrs. Major Little did not know that Injun Jack had kissed her, then no one did.

      “I don’t think he looks crude or terrible,” Flora murmured in Rebecca’s ear. “I think he looks exciting and rather handsome. Brian never mentioned that. Of course, he wasn’t concerned about looks at the railroad camp the other day. He was just glad Injun Jack was his scout. He said—”

      “There are the two loveliest ladies at Fort Chamberlain,” Brian’s jovial voice interrupted their conversation.

      “The loveliest in Kansas,” Francis amended, beaming.

      “Do I hear a ‘loveliest on the frontier’?” Flora fluttered her eyelashes at her husband.

      “You are shameless.” Laughing, Brian summoned the striker. “Leave the basket, Private, and go enjoy your first Independence Day in your new country.”

      “Merci, mon capitaine.” The Frenchman saluted smartly.

      “Doesn’t that fellow speak English?” Francis frowned as St. Jean hurried away.

      “Not much and not well,” Flora answered, “but he performs miracles in the kitchen, even with rations.”

      “And he pampers madame outrageously,” Brian added affectionately. “Shall we promenade before it gets any hotter?”

      Taking the arm Francis offered, Rebecca could not resist a glance at Injun Jack. Clad in light buckskins, his gun belt riding low on slim hips, the scout faced in her direction. One broad shoulder was braced against the tree trunk as he talked to Malachi Middlefield. She could not tell if his eyes, shaded by the brim of his hat, rested on her. She did not know why it should matter.

      As the couples strolled, children capered around them in the dry brown grass. They chatted, stopping here and there to visit with friends and greet new faces from town.

      It was good to be out among people, Rebecca mused, even if she did look like a crow among songbirds in her widow’s weeds. Though the day was hot, it should be enjoyable if she could keep Francis at arm’s length. And if she could forget Injun Jack’s presence.

      Despite her resolution, her gaze was drawn to the big scout. He was alone now, his arms crossed on his chest, his face unreadable. She nodded. He did not acknowledge her gesture though she knew this time he watched. Suddenly she wished she were somewhere else, doing something besides walking arm-inarm with Francis.

      Sternly she reminded herself that Jack Bellamy was a rude, insulting rogue. He had kissed her and promptly forgotten it…which was exactly what she must do. Determined to get him out of her mind and keep him out, she was careful not to look his way again when they moved to watch the chess game under the tamarack.

      Absorbed in planning his strategy, Doc hardly noticed them. The colonel nodded coolly, but said nothing. Rebecca was not sorry when her friends were ready to go on to the sergeants’ hotly contested horseshoe tournament.

      From the other end of the quadrangle, the scout’s icy blue eyes narrowed when he saw the adjutant lay his hand possessively over Rebecca’s. He had never liked Porter. He liked him less now.

      “What’s it to me if there’s something between them?” Jack muttered to himself, looking away. “Not a damn thing.”

      He did not see Rebecca withdraw from Francis’s grasp and walk toward the officers’ tent. He did not notice that the adjutant followed her sulkily, with Flora and Brian trailing behind.

      As she neared the tent, Rebecca realized that the women within had fallen silent. Steeling herself, she met Mrs. Major Little’s eyes and read unmistakable censure in them. Caroline Johnson and Sally March chatted with each other. Only Willa Plath smiled in welcome. “Come, join us in the shade,” she invited.

      “Thank you.” Closing her parasol, Rebecca took a seat in the circle of officers’ wives. “It’s very hot out there.”

      “I fear she is not accustomed to the Kansas sun yet.” Francis arrived and placed himself beside her.

      “You really must be careful, Mrs. Emerson,” Mrs. Little lectured. “Sunstroke is all too common on the prairie.”

      “You won’t have to worry about sunstroke much longer, will you, Rebecca?” Caroline asked enviously, holding onto her squirming young daughter. “I understand you’re going back east.”

      “That’s Colonel Quiller’s wish.” Rebecca smiled blandly.

      “I wish I were going,” Caroline murmured, seemingly unaware that her daughter had slid down and stood beside her chair.

      “We were just remarking that the fort is so full of people,” Mrs. Little changed the subject. “It is hard to avoid socializing, even when bereaved. Will you attend the dance this evening, Mrs. Emerson?”

      “No, the picnic is the extent of my socializing today.” Smiling when Caroline’s daughter presented herself, she took the child into her lap. “Hello, Phoebe.”

      “You’ll be there, won’t you, Lieutenant?” Mrs. Little turned her attention to Francis.

      “Of course he will, Mama,” Amy Little proclaimed as she joined them. Newly arrived from finishing school in New York, she was Fort Chamberlain’s reigning belle.

      Rebecca nodded pleasantly at the girl and her escort. The young cavalry lieutenant, George Davis, had taken Paul’s command.

      “How would СКАЧАТЬ