The Officer and the Traveler (13 page)

He could hardly stand up straight and sagged against the wall for support. He was no better than any of the men he’d despised so much who’d come to the brothel for a quick release, then went on their way, fulfilled.

The air in the room had either grown too thin to inhale or too thick and was choking him. He had to get out of her presence—soon. Gray looked down at himself.  He was dressed well enough to go outside and not evoke too many questions from the others. He turned his attention to Michaela as she hurriedly tried to redress. He had a fleeting thought to offer to help her. She didn’t need it, however, she’d selected a simple gown with buttons that went up the front. Her hair wasn’t as neatly pinned on top of her head as it had been yesterday, but thankfully it didn’t appear too mussed. She reached in her travel bag and removed a lace hair covering which she promptly put on and tied under her chin, covering the majority of that tempting, auburn hair his fingers had itched to touch.

He jerked his eyes from her, grunting. “Ready?”

“
Yes.” She came over to him, and try as he might, he couldn’t force himself to look her in the eyes. She hadn’t deserved such treatment. “Is something wrong?”
 

Gray started. “No.” He winced and cleared his throat. “No. Just thinking.”

“
Are you sure? You look like you’re in deep contemplation.”
 

“
I’m not.”
 

“
I suppose Pa was right then,” she said, something about her tone not right. “He always said most of the men who make a career out of being in the army aren’t the most intelligent men there ever were.”
 

“
Your father retired from the army,” he pointed out, wrenching the door open and waiting for her to walk through.
 

“
I know,” she said with a slight giggle. “But I think he was talking about the ones who join as privates. They don’t have to be strategists. Just do what they’re told without having to think.”
 

Gray paused. She’d just insulted him and he’d fallen right into the trap. Clever girl. He wasn’t a private now, but they both knew when they’d first met the only position he’d ever dreamed he’d be able to have was to one day be a private. Neither of them had ever expected things to turn out the way they had and for him to become an officer.

“
All right.” He drew the words out as he fiddled with the lock on the door. “You want to know
what I was thinking about, I’ll tell you.”
 

“
Please do.”
 

“
Last night.”
 

From the corner of his eye he saw that her face turned a light pink. He rather liked that and for a second he hoped that might be an indication that he hadn’t destroyed every chance of a friendship between them.

The irony of Michaela’s recent increase of time spent communing with God in connection with Gray, which was similar to the same increase she’d witnessed some nine years ago when she’d first met him, was not lost on her. The difference was, nine years ago, she’d prayed he’d notice her and would fall in love with her in a way that would match her feelings for him. Now, she just prayed for him to make sense to her.

One minute, such as last night after they’d gotten married, he seemed interested in her, then when they awoke, he suddenly wasn’t, then once they got outside he was again? So many unanswered questions floated through her mind. What was genuine? Or was he at all? Of course he’d have been interested in her last night. They’d just gotten married and he had...er...expectations. This morning? Well, to be honest, he’d acted almost disgusted with her. Why? Because she was no longer chaste? She almost choked on her laughter. That wasn’t likely. Gray had slept with any number of prostitutes, surely he wouldn’t care that she was no longer untried. She frowned. Perhaps
that
was the reason. He’d had her once and now he wasn’t interested anymore. Did he only bed the same woman once or did she just not measure up? A sick feeling formed in her stomach and she had the strangest urge to tear her hand from where she held his arm and run. But doing that wouldn’t look good for anyone, and might make her vulnerable in a way that wouldn’t bode well for her in the future.
 

Which is probably the only reason he seemed to be willing to play besotted husband right now as he escorted her to the Lewises’ house.

“
Here you are,” he said as they climbed the steps. “I’ll come by this afternoon to walk you home.”
 

She nodded once. Allison and Ella had mentioned that most days their husbands came to eat lunch with them when time allowed. Michaela didn’t even have to ask to know that Gray wouldn’t be joining her for the noonday meal. Ever. She released his arm and walked inside, halted by the four curious faces waiting for her in the sitting area.

Michaela swallowed. What was going on? “Is everything all right?” she asked past the cotton that seemed to have grown in her mouth within the past three seconds.

“
I don’t know, is it?” Aunt Lucille asked with a wink.
 

Michaela stared at her. What was she talking about? Her eyes drifted to Sarah Ridgely who still appeared gaunt, but was present, holding a piece of folded silk, the corners of her lips twitching. Michaela’s gaze slid to Allison, humor and intrigue both alight in her eyes. What was wrong with these ladies? Just before Michaela could try to read the expression on her own sister’s face, which should be easy to do considering they’d shared a room for almost twenty years, Ella broke the silence, “How was your night?”

Michaela flushed. Everything suddenly made sense and she flushed again. They were not simply asking how she enjoyed the look of her new room and if she’d had a good night of sleep, they wanted to know about...about... She flushed yet again.

“
I’ll take that to mean it went quite well, indeed,” Aunt Lucille said with a chuckle.
 

“
I’m not sure there was ever really any question,” Sarah chimed in. “Gray is known for his experience, I’m sure he took every care to make sure it was enjoyable for you.”
 

Michaela wasn’t sure what to make of the slightly high pitched tone Sarah used, and wasn’t given time to ponder it when Allison rushed to add, “Not that any of us believe for one moment that Gray will continue his habit of entertaining...” she trailed off, blushing.

Michaela waved her off and took a spot next to Ella on the threadbare settee. She didn’t rightly know if Gray would stop seeking the company of loose women, and wasn’t sure if she even cared. For if she did, then she’d only set herself up for heartache. It had been his lusty desire to visit a prostitute that had crushed her heart before. Fortunately, she wasn’t in love with him anymore so what he did wouldn’t matter. She clenched her fists and repeated those words to herself,
it wouldn’t matter
. It
couldn’t
matter. He’d do what he wanted, just like all other men, and she’d have to learn to accept that. She had no claim on him. She’d agreed to marry him to rescue him from a bad situation, and in the bargain she’d get to stay closer to her sister and perhaps have a few children to help fill her heart with the love Gray would never be able to give her.
 

“
Is something wrong, Michaela?” Ella whispered in her ear.
 

Michaela started and forced herself to look at Ella, releasing her fists. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

The others seemed to accept that, but Ella didn’t. Michaela jerked her attention away from her sister and murmured for Aunt Lucille to pass her sewing materials.

“
We’ll talk later,” Ella whispered.
 

Dread settled in Michaela’s chest, and with a silent prayer that Ella would forget her purpose, she nodded and began sewing.

***

Gray wasn’t sure why he thought he’d be relieved to enter the officers’ office this morning, but discomfort swept over him like one of those heavy spring thunderstorms this part of the country was prone to receiving.

At their desks, sat every single commissioned officer assigned to the fort all staring at him as he walked to his desk. He wasn’t late, he knew that, which could only mean one thing: they’d all gotten here early to see his arrival. Even Jack and Wes. He scowled. His scowl deepened when he caught sight of the slight grin and teasing gleam in Wes’ eyes. Wes’ room was adjacent to his so it was no use in pretending nothing happened. That was one of the more unfavorable things about living in a fort. Walls and floors were paper-thin. Everything, even simple conversations had a way of being overheard. Gray couldn’t count the times he’d been an unwilling audience to hearing other bedroom activities happen when he had to sleep in a room directly below Wes and Allison.

He locked gazes with Wes, a simple warning, reminding the man that anything he might know about Gray, Gray also knew about him.

Wes didn’t look like he cared. And perhaps Gray wouldn’t care who knew what he and his wife did in their bedroom, if not for the crushing guilt that had settled over him this morning when he’d spotted the bloodstain. That was all he needed to sour his mood as he took a seat at the desk he shared with Wes.

“
And here I thought you’d be more excited than either of us the morning after our weddings,” Wes said softly.
 

Gray ignored him. Wes had lied to everyone saying a lady who’d been stranded here was his mail-order bride. Sleeping in the room under theirs, Gray had a hard time believing Wes’ story for a while, but didn’t care to question it. He liked Allison quite well and didn’t wish to embarrass her if she were to find out he’d said anything to Wes about their nighttime activities. Besides it wasn’t his business.

Jack, on the other hand, was a perfect candidate to having had an explosive wedding night. Only...when he’d been exchanging letters with Ella and encouraging her to be in truth his mail-order bride, he’d left off what most would consider crucial details involving his life and where it was that he lived, thus leading her not to be exactly enthusiastic about sharing her body with him. That wasn’t even two weeks ago, and to be frank, Gray still didn’t know if Jack had weaseled his way into her heart and under her skirts. Once again, it wasn’t any of his damn business. Just like it wasn’t anyone else’s concern about his intimate relationship with Michaela. How unfortunate that this place crawled with heathens who didn’t respect that.

He jerked his desk drawer open, garnering a chuckle from a few of the men.

“
You do know the blood was supposed to be there,” Wes whispered just above Gray’s ear.
 

Scowling, Gray dug out what he needed, then slammed the drawer shut. How the blazes had Wes known he’d been concerned about that?

Wes’ soft chuckle pulled Gray from his thoughts. “Considering the types of women you’ve bedded before, I imagine it was alarming. But it’s supposed to be there.”

“
I know that,” Gray snapped. He did know there was supposed to be a few drops of virgin’s blood on the sheets, but this wasn’t just a couple of drops. Paying no heed to the curious faces of the other men at the table with him, he started rolling gunpowder and balls of lead into paper to make bullet cartridges.
 

“
I didn’t realize marriage to my daughter was enough to make a man want to do himself in,” General Davis said from behind Gray.
 

Gray fought his grimace and opened a second box of lead balls. When had
he
come in? More importantly, why couldn’t the man leave Gray alone? “It’s not her I find so disagreeable,” he murmured, untying the string to another little bag of gunpowder. “It’s the family she comes with. Specifically her father and brother-in-law.”
 

General Davis chuckled and Jack grinned in his typical jackal-like manner.

“
Well, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her,” Lt. Bryce McCorkle said from his seat beside Jack.
 

Gray jerked his head up to look at the young and foolish boy who’d said that. “I think not. She might come with a few less-than-pleasing family members, but I—” He broke off and swore under his breath. Thankfully he’d caught himself or who knows what he might have revealed about his feelings for Michaela. Not that there was anything to reveal. His feelings for her were more or less those of gratitude for helping him and it was up to him now to protect her.

“
You what?” her father goaded, eliciting snickers and chuckles from Wes, Jack and a few of the others.
 

“
I have work to do,” Gray announced. He scooted his chair back, delighting in the way the ends of the legs scraped the floor and made the men wince. Standing, he gathered the supplies he’d retrieved to make bullet cartridges and slipped them into his pockets. Ignoring the stares from the others, he looked right at McCorkle and said, “Michaela is my wife and as I told you the other day, you touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
 

Some might think he was being besotted or paranoid, perhaps, but he’d seen the way McCorkle had looked at her when she’d walked by herself through the fort to find her sister. Gray wasn’t a fool. McCorkle was young and had urges. Urges he’d better not even think about satisfying with Michaela.

“
Is he your suspect?” General Davis asked without preamble when Gray had exited his office and had begun walking to where his men were to be assembled for target practice.
 

Gray halted. “Suspect?”

General Davis nodded.

“
You mean for the rape of Soft Dove?”
 

General Davis nodded again.