The Scout's Bride. Kate Kingsley

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СКАЧАТЬ good, Private.” Dismissing him with a nod, Colonel Quiller invited, “Do come in, Mrs. Emerson, and sit down.”

      “Thank you.” Rebecca looked around, glad to see Lieutenant Porter, the ever-present adjutant, was absent. She could speak to the commander in relative privacy, though his staff worked on the other side of the high partition covered with maps and rosters. She longed to leap to her appeal, but she forced herself to sit and ask serenely, “You wished to see me, sir?”

      Reluctant to begin, the colonel observed his visitor across the desk. Not a hair was out of place despite the infernal wind, and she looked cool, even in the heat. But, as usual, he found her to be a study in contradictions. Though she was not wearing the obligatory black of mourning, her appearance was thoroughly decorous. He preferred her purple dress to her widow’s weeds, he decided. Their stiffness always seemed out of place with her lively hazel eyes. Those eyes had been sad in recent days and he found he missed her laughter and dimpled smile.

      But when she turned that smile upon him now, he mentally girded himself for battle. That she was a worthy adversary had come as a surprise at first, but he was beginning to recognize signs of her mettle. Though she looked soft and demure, he knew from experience her proper demeanor masked considerable intellect and a will of pure steel, a formidable combination.

      He liked her, he admired the fact that she never resorted to tears, he even enjoyed their skirmishes. But their eventual outcome was never in doubt. She had to go. Women were the worst thing that could happen to an army post. Just look at the folderol involved in a simple Fourth of July celebration. Picnics, cotillions, gazebos…

      Brusquely he turned his attention to the matter at hand. “Mrs. Emerson, I regret that it has been impossible to arrange for your return to the East since your husband’s death. After the massacre at Lookout Station, overland travel has all but halted.

      “That unhappy circumstance is about to change, however. Three companies will leave Texas within the week, bound for Fort Chamberlain. When our joint forces have sought out the Sioux and the Cheyenne and placed them on reservations, you may proceed safely homeward.

      “Unfortunately—” he charged ahead to deter her protest “—I must ask you to vacate your quarters in preparation for our reinforcements’ arrival. You are being ‘ranked out,’ as we say in the army. My apologies for the inconvenience, but I fear you must stay with friends until your departure.”

      She sat forward on her chair. “Colonel Quiller, couldn’t I-”

      “There can be no debate this time, madam.” He silenced her with a gesture. “I do not understand your reluctance to return to the safety and comfort of the East, but it changes nothing. To put it plainly, you are a civilian with no rights, no place here.”

      “Even if I found employment?” She surveyed him challengingly.

      “At Fort Chamberlain?”

      “I could work at the hospital.”

      “What kind of rubbish has Noah Trotter been filling your head with?” the colonel asked exasperatedly. “Be assured, Mrs. Emerson, we all appreciate your help, but a military hospital is no place for a young lady.”

      “Perhaps I could work off my debt at the trading post.”

      “Absolutely not. Mr. Peeples is quite willing to accept payment in installments.”

      “I can cook,” she offered desperately.

      “Enough!” he cut her off. “Your late husband would be shamed to hear you suggest such a thing.”

      “He would be more ashamed to think I cannot live on what he left me.” She kept her voice quiet, hoping it would not carry into the other office as she offered her final gambit, “I will seek a position in Chamberlain, if I must.”

      “You will not. An army wife has no business in a railroad town.”

      “But I am a civilian, as you pointed out,” she argued.

      “You are also an officer’s widow,” he exploded, not caring who heard. “As commander of this post, I try to do what is best for my men and their dependents. I have made my decision regarding your presence here and I expect you to concede gracefully.”

      “Gracefully?” she repeated, rising from her chair. “I have conceded gracefully all my life. I’ve done as I was told. But this time, sir, both grace and docility are in short supply. I intend to stay in Kansas.”

      The commander also stood. He leaned across the desk, his face dark with wrath. “Madam, I’ll load you onto the wagon myself, if I must. Indians run rampant along the Arkansas. My command could burn to the ground if even a spark gets out of hand in this wind. I cannot and will not be responsible for an unmarried, unattached woman.”

      “Then I will take care of myself.” She swept from the office without a backward look. “Good day, Colonel.”

      

      On the steps outside the office, Malachi Middlefield regarded his companion with concern. “What’s ailin’ you, boy? Your face is as white as a fish’s belly.”

      “Took an arrow in the arm yesterday,” Injun Jack growled reluctantly. “I must’ve lost more blood than I thought.”

      “Dad-blame it, Jack.” Dragging him into the shade, Malachi glared at him. “How come you didn’t mention that when you told me ‘bout Teddy meetin’ up with that Cheyenne?”

      The brawny scout glared back, embarrassed by his weakness. “Because I’ve felt worse after poker games at Elvira’s.”

      “Reckon that’s so.” The mule skinner grinned, momentarily distracted. “Cards, whiskey, a pretty gal—” Realizing he had been diverted, he broke off. “You might not hurt so much if you hadn’t throwed that nurse feller through the infirmary winda.”

      “He was interfering with my bath.” Injun Jack straightened and drew a steadying breath. “I needed privacy.”

      “You don’t git it, hollerin’ out the winda, wearin’ nothin’ but a bear’s teeth necklace and a towel. You dang near gave the major’s wife apoplexy.”

      Malachi’s mirth was cut short when the door to the colonel’s office was thrown open and a petite female figure sailed out.

      “Son of a—” The scout winced, catching the woman in his arms. “I mean, careful, ma’am.” The collision threw her against him, tilted her hoopskirt askew and knocked her bonnet lopsided.

      “I’m terribly sorry.” Steadying herself with one hand against his chest, the woman straightened her bonnet with the other and stepped back.

      “Well, well, the Yankee angel.”

      Rebecca nearly groaned aloud. Shaken by her confrontation with the colonel, she did not know if she could face Injun Jack after what had happened between them at the hospital.

      “Good morning, Mr. Bellamy,” she said stiffly, hazarding a look at him. Clean, shaved and wearing a clean shirt, he scarcely resembled the rugged man she had met yesterday.

      One thing had not changed, however. His hands had found СКАЧАТЬ