The Major's Wife. Lauri Robinson

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      Chapter Three

      Millie pulled her hand off his arm, but instantly wished she hadn’t. His solidness had kept her stable during all the introductions, and she found herself needing that support again.

      Squaring her shoulders didn’t help much, but it was all she had. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

      The only movement he made was to lift a dark brow, but it said a lot. Digging deep into the dredges of her mind, she found a fraction of truth to embellish upon. “Millie is...” She drew a deep breath, hoping lightning wouldn’t manifest out of the blue sky and strike her. “Engaged. Millie is engaged to an army man, too.”

      This time Seth frowned.

      She held her breath.

      He took her elbow and guided her along a well-worn pathway. “Really? An army man?”

      “Yes,” she answered, looking everywhere but at him as they walked.

      “In Richmond?”

      Thank goodness. A subject she could discuss freely. There was no reason to lie about Martin. “He’s from Richmond. His family lived only a few blocks away from our house. The three of us grew up together and everyone always said we...that is, the—the two of them would get married. He’s in Texas right now. At a fort there, and Millie is preparing to travel there. Their wedding will take place shortly after she arrives.”

      “What’s his name?”

      “M-Martin Clark.” The conversation was making her stomach gurgle. If or when Martin learned of this escapade, he wouldn’t be happy. They’d been best friends for years, and he’d been her rock when Papa died, but he wouldn’t be happy to know she was saying such things. Especially not as a cover-up for Rosemary.

      “Is that a trading post?” She flinched as she said it. The sign painted the length of the building said precisely that, but she was searching desperately for anything she could use to change the subject.

      Seth had stopped beside her, was staring at her thoughtfully.

      “Oh, I apologise, you have work to do. Forgive me.” She spun, and a stone caught under the ball of her foot, making her recoil at the sting. It also gave her an answer. “I was just wondering if the trading post might have a pair of boots. These slippers are not made for outdoors.”

      His dark eyes went to her feet and then to several men still watching them before he said, “I can spare a few minutes.”

      “The fort is so large,” she said, as they started walking again. “It’s like a complete town inside walls.” Working hard at sounding normal, she added, “Mr. Cutter said there’s a hospital and a church here.”

      “On the other side of the barracks, along the back wall.”

      His answer was clipped, and Millie bit her lips. Rosemary had said they’d be living in tents and cooking over campfires. Though, in the next breath, she’d insisted it was completely safe and that Millie had to go.

      Quietly, not wanting to draw his attention, she let the air out of her lungs. Pretending to be Rosemary might not have been the best idea, but after her abruptness, Seth would probably believe she was Rosemary now.

      Oh what a tangled web we weave. Another one of Lola’s sayings. It didn’t help any better than the first one had.

      Seth stepped to the side as they neared the door, allowing her to enter first. Millie showed her appreciation with a nod, not trusting her mouth to open again. Upon entering the dark and crowded store, she wanted to take hold of his arm again. The space was crammed with shelves, barrels, crates and tables full of merchandise, and Indians. Lots of Indians. Her heart started beating erratically.

      “This way,” Seth said, walking around several tables stacked high with merchandise.

      Very few windows let light into the area, not that sunlight would have helped. She had to get over this. Nothing had happened for her to fear the Indians, yet the way they looked at her had her inching as close to Seth as possible when he stopped to speak to someone.

      “Here,” he said, pulling over a stool. “Sit down.”

      “I’ll have to measure your foot, ma’am.”

      Millie gulped, glancing toward a burly man with a straggly gray beard hanging almost to his belly.

      “I don’t get much call for women’s boots,” the bearded man was saying as he knelt down near the stool.

      She sat, and inched the hem of her dress just high enough to display her day slippers.

      “I’ll have to order them. It won’t take much more than a month or so.” The man measured the length and width of her foot, and then stood, tucking the flat wooden ruler into his back pocket. “I could try to get them faster, but it’ll cost extra.”

      “Get them as soon as possible, Jenkins,” Seth said.

      “Aye, aye, Major. I’ll see what I can do.”

      Seth helped her to her feet, then kept one hand on her elbow. “Don’t see, Jenkins, make it happen.”

      “I ain’t got the pull you do, Major, but I’ll get them.” With a tip of his head, which was hairless compared to his face, the man shuffled toward the long plank laid atop two barrels, with several people crowded along it.

      “Is there anything else you need?” Seth asked.

      Millie shook her head, barely able to keep her eyes from going to the Indians again.

      A little shudder rippled through her. “Are they friendly?”

      His gaze went to the Indians for a moment. “Friendly?”

      She nodded.

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