The Unlikely Wife (6 page)

He shook off the loneliness. He would miss Annie, of course. And that was why he found his teasing little charge at all attractive. And no doubt that explained why he kept picturing one of his medals dangling from the breast of her uniform blouse.

“He sent out a hunting party,” Brooks announced as soon as Rebecca crawled into the seat beside him.

“You’re sure?” Rebecca caught sight of the bay as the column started up an incline. He was closer than he had been the day before. Half the troops had been pulled out of formation and positioned along either side of the caravan.

“Sergeant was asking for the best marksmen,” Brooks said. “Sent out five. Don’t get me wrong, ma’am. I don’t begrudge you a good meal. Nor them other ladies neither.”

“But?” she prompted.

“But nothing. I’m just talking. What did you think of the old man’s story last night? You reckon we’re in for trouble?”

Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t think we’re especially vulnerable. Besides, most of the trouble’s west of here.”

“Ain’t that the way we’re going?”

Rebecca had to grin at him. “As a matter of fact, it is. But didn’t you join the army to fight Indians?”

“No, ma’am. I joined to eat. And I think I made a mistake.”

Rebecca knew the soldier was at least half serious, but she couldn’t help laughing. “The army doesn’t want you getting too fat for your uniform.”

“The army don’t have to worry.”

He smiled but it wasn’t very pleasant. Rebecca turned away, preferring to watch the lieutenant’s back. “Oh, look!” she cried. “Another visitor.”

As before, Forrester stopped the column and rode forward to meet the stranger. Rebecca wished she was with him to know who it was and what news he might have brought. In a moment the two came riding back, but Forrester didn’t signal the column to move. Instead they skirted the troops and cantered toward them.

Rebecca spared the stranger barely a glance. Forrester was such a pleasure to watch. He rode as if he had been born to it, his back straight, his head high. He drew up beside the ambulance with the slightest
touch on the reins. She smiled, knowing he had to have seen her watching him.

He showed no sign, however. “Miss Huntington,” he said. “Mr. Kolchek has an invitation for you.”

Rebecca turned to the stranger. Evidently Forrester hadn’t warned him about her attire. It took him a moment to find his voice.

“Miss Huntington,” he said, snatching off his hat. “I understand you’re one of three women traveling with the soldiers.”

“That’s right,” she said, smiling.

“I own a ranch west a ways. It doubles as a stage station. We’d be pleased to have you ladies as our guests at noon. And the lieutenant, if you can persuade him.”

“That’s most kind of you,” Rebecca said, beaming. “My aunt especially will be grateful for the change of scene, not to mention diet”

“And clothes,” Forrester added.

Rebecca sent him a wicked grin.

Kolchek looked from Rebecca to the lieutenant and back. “Yes, well. I best be headed home to see that everything is ready.”

He turned his horse and rode away. Forrester turned to follow, but Rebecca stopped him. “Lieutenant What did he mean if I can persuade you?”

Forrester hesitated. “We’ll arrive in a little over an hour. You ladies might want to change as we travel. I’ll try to give you plenty of time to enjoy Mr.
Kolchek’s hospitality, but you can’t have the whole of the afternoon.”

He started away again.

“Wait!” He was polite enough to turn back, and his irritation was barely visible. “Aren’t you eating with us?”

“That depends.” This time he turned away with enough resolve she didn’t try to call him back.

She sank down into the seat and watched him go. In a moment they were moving again.

“He’ll eat with you,” Brooks said, startling her. She had nearly forgotten him.

“Depends on what?” she wondered aloud. Didn’t he want to eat with her?

Brooks shrugged. “Care to make a friendly bet?” he asked in a low voice.

She laughed. “Want me to bring you a steak if you’re right?”

“I got more on my mind than food. I was thinking more like a kiss.”

Rebecca’s stomach turned queasy. She tried to laugh it off. “What do I get if I win?”

He was quiet for a moment than offered softly, “You could bet the same thing.”

“No deal,” she said, trying not to sound as revolted as she felt. “Gambling’s frowned on in the army.”

“Is kissing, too?” he whispered. “We could skip the bet and go straight to the payoff.”

“I need to go change.” She rose to climb over the seat, taking more care than usual not to touch him.

“I’ll be thinking of you,” he whispered.

Rebecca scrambled under the canvas and tied the front flap in place. She turned to find Belle and Alicia staring at her. Had they been listening to her conversation with Brooks? They could hardly blame
her
for what he said.

“Did you hear we’ve been invited to dine at a stage station?” she asked, making her way to the back of the rocking wagon. It seemed unbearably close. She pulled aside the canvas to let in a hint of a breeze, realizing how peculiar that might seem after tying the front flap.

“It’s not proper,” Aunt Belle said.

“Proper? Aunt Belle, I’m sure they invite most travelers to eat with them.”

“I mean the way you talk to that lieutenant. You are far too familiar. He’s bound to remember how you made eyes at him on the train.”

Rebecca resisted a sigh of relief. If she had heard Brooks she wouldn’t be so concerned about her behavior toward Forrester. From experience she knew the best tactic with Aunt Belle. “I’m sorry,” she said, letting her head hang slightly. “I forgot myself. I’ll try to act with more decorum in the future.”

“Good,” stated Belle, evidently willing to accept her vow at face value. “Now, I’m ready to get out
of these awful clothes. We’ve only an hour to make ourselves presentable.”

Approximately an hour later the ambulance rolled to a stop in front of Kolchek’s station. Rebecca got her first glimpse of the long low building when Brooks came behind to help them out of the wagon. Aunt Belle had forbidden either her or Alicia to part the canvas for so much as a peek for fear their dresses would get dusty. “It’s hard enough dressing in such a confining space without dust billowing in as well,” she had said.

The house was built of rough-hewn wood and completely devoid of paint. The roof didn’t even seem to be level. Alicia stepped up beside Rebecca as she studied the building. “That’s ghastly,” she whispered.

“Rustic,” Rebecca corrected.

Aunt Belle made an audible gasp as she climbed from the wagon. “My,” she said, joining the girls. The wagon clattered out of the yard, and Belle looked after it with something akin to panic.

A large woman emerged from one of the three doors that ran along the front of the house. Shading her eyes with one hand she waved with the other. “Come on in out of the sun and have a cool drink. Dinner’ll be ready in no time.”

“It’s bound to be cooler inside,” Belle said, stepping
forward. Rebecca and Alicia followed her onto the porch.

After they had all introduced themselves, Mrs. Kolchek expressed a need to get back to the kitchen. “You folks just make yourselves at home.”

“I’d like to walk around a little,” Rebecca said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Alicia touched her mother’s arm. “I’ll go with Rebecca and see that she doesn’t take too long.”

“Good idea.” Belle followed the woman into the station.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Alicia said. “I wanted to apologize for letting Mother overhear your conversation with your lieutenant. I parted the canvas to see why we had stopped. It muffles sound quite effectively the rest of the time.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Rebecca said, turning in a slow circle. Where was the lieutenant, and what could she have done to assure his presence? She made out the soldier’s camp nearer the creek.

“What is there to look at?” Alicia asked. “Or should I say look for?”

“Horses,” Rebecca said, pointing. “I want to look at the horses.”

“Certainly,” Alicia muttered, following along. “And your lieutenant will see you standing out here and won’t be able to resist coming in.”

Rebecca grinned. “Do you think he’ll notice me?”

“If Mother had known how bright that red dress
was, she would have objected. It looked more subdued in the wagon.”

At the corral fence Rebecca climbed onto the lowest rung and reached her hand toward an iron-gray gelding. “Come here, boy,” she coaxed.

“Rebecca.” There was a note of warning in Alicia’s voice.

“He won’t hurt me,” she murmured in the same soft tone. “Will you, handsome? Come on. I just want to talk to you.”

Rebecca’s father had taught her about horses, and the gelding was a beautiful animal. He tossed his head and stepped closer.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

The horse took the last few steps and let Rebecca rub its nose and neck.

“I see your charm works with horses, too.”

At the softly accented words Rebecca spun around, nearly falling off the fence. Strong hands caught her and settled her on the ground. He backed away much too quickly.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” The light in his eyes made a lie of the statement.

“Why of course you didn’t, Lieutenant,” she said, giving him her biggest smile. “I’m lucky you moved quickly enough to catch me.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

Alicia had to clear her throat twice before either of them turned toward her.

C
lark tore his eyes away from the smiling beauty.

“Perhaps we should go in,” the younger girl said.

“Of course. Ladies.” He offered each an arm.

“Tell me, Lieutenant,” Miss Huntington began, acting as if she were strolling down a city sidewalk. “What exactly was your presence here for dinner dependent on?”

“The hunting party,” he said. At her questioning look, he added, “They brought down a good-sized deer. The men are dressing it out now. There’ll be enough for tonight as well as their noon meal.”

“And if the hunters hadn’t gotten back in time, or had come in empty-handed?”

“I’d be enjoying the government’s famous pork with the rest of the men.”

“You’re an honorable man, Lieutenant,” Miss Huntington said, turning toward him as she stepped onto the sloping porch. Her smile seemed more sincere
than flirtatious, but with this young lady, he didn’t trust his perceptions.

“I hope so, ma’am. But it isn’t so much honor as common sense.”

He let the ladies precede him into the squat little station. The room was smoky from oil lamps and cigars. Mrs. Evans, sitting in a high-backed chair, seemed relieved to see them.

“Our host has gone to help bring in the meal,” she said. “It seems some of our food was cooked ‘out back’ as he put it I’ve been afraid to look out and see what he meant.”

The younger ladies indicated a desire to wash, and their senior offered to show them where she had earlier been directed. Alone, Clark looked around the crudely furnished room. There wasn’t much to recommend the place, except Kolchek himself. Clark had met him twice before, and Sergeant Whiting knew him well. He had the reputation of knowing everything that went on in his portion of the state.

In a moment the ladies returned. Clark found it difficult to make polite conversation when his eyes kept returning to the beauty in the red dress. Her short curls were even more incongruous with the elegant attire than they were with the men’s trousers. He refused, however, to feel guilty.

The Kolcheks joined them, and in a few minutes they were seated before a veritable feast. Kolchek pointed out buffalo roast, venison steaks and his own
cured ham, as well as early peas and last year’s sweet potatoes.

Once the women were deep in conversation, Clark asked Kolchek for any news of the uprising.

“Some raids,” he said softly, obviously not wanting to concern the ladies. “Railroad workers west of Ellsworth, mostly. They seem to know that track means the end of their hunting ground.”

“They can’t expect to stop the construction of the railroad,” Clark said.

“They have, at least for now. They don’t look at progress quite the way we do. Besides, they’ve been promised things they never got, and they’re mighty sore.”

Clark’s eyes went across the table, as they did every few seconds. This time they locked with Miss Huntington’s. The other ladies were discussing recipes, but her attention had shifted.

She turned from him to their host. “Why won’t the government give them what they want?”

“They want Kansas, ma’am. And Nebraska, Colorado, the whole of the western plains. It may be theirs by rights, but they’ve already lost it.”

Clark wondered what she was thinking as she returned her attention to her plate. Next he wondered why he cared. Her only interest would be for her own comfort.

His suspicion was confirmed a moment later. She raised her head, her sparkling smile back in place. “I
noticed some beautiful horses in your corral, Mr. Kolchek. Do they belong to you or the stage line?”

“Some of both out there, though the best ones are mine.”

Clark stood, excused himself and promised to send the wagon in half an hour. Getting the ladies’ assurances that they would be ready, he thanked the Kolcheks and left.

Out in the sunlight again, he wondered why he gave Miss Huntington more than passing notice. Why was he curious about her opinions? She probably didn’t have any beyond what she had been told. Why was he fascinated by the slightest change in her expressive lips?

He swung into the saddle and turned to gaze for a moment at the station. He had tasted those lips once and wanted to again. His attraction was purely physical. He only pretended there was something more to excuse his reaction.

Even that realization filled him with some alarm. Since when had physical attraction left him searching for excuses? And this woman had already threatened his career. He should keep an eye on her the same way he was watching a distant storm cloud. And for precisely the same reasons.

The door opened, and Miss Huntington stepped out. Kolchek was right behind her. Clark turned his horse away, but the flash of red against the gray, drab building stayed in his mind.

* * *

Rebecca brushed her hand over the neck of her newly acquired horse. While the others sat on the porch and chatted, she led the gelding around the dusty yard, stroked him, talked to him, everything but rode him. Not in this dress. At least not with this saddle.

Finally, Brooks drove the ambulance into the yard. While he helped Belle and Alicia into the wagon, Rebecca tied her horse on behind.

As soon as she was inside, Rebecca enlisted Alicia’s help in getting out of the dress. She was slipping into the pants when the wagon stopped. “Find out what’s going on,” she said.

Alicia pulled the canvas aside a fraction. “Why are we stopped?” she asked. She turned back to Rebecca. “We’re waiting for the rest to start moving.”

“How much time does it look like I’ll have?” Rebecca asked, hastily buttoning the uniform blouse.

“I don’t know.” With a resigned sigh, Alicia returned to the crack in the canvas. “Just a few minutes.”

“Minutes is fine,” Rebecca said, pulling on her socks. “I was afraid I only had seconds.”

“I think this is positively disgraceful,” Aunt Belle said. “I for one, intend to continue wearing my dress until evening. I can’t believe you’re not eager to do the same.”

Rebecca tossed her a quick smile as she hastily
tied the boy’s work shoes she had bought at Fort Riley and grabbed her hat. “If you have any problems, let Brooks know. If he has to pull out of line, have him send one of the soldiers to find me.”

“You’ll be in front flirting shamelessly with that officer. Honestly, Rebecca—”

But Rebecca scrambled out the back of the ambulance before her aunt could finish. “I don’t know what’s to become of you,” she mimicked under her breath. She untied the gelding and led him away from the wagon, wanting to take a little time to get reacquainted before she tried to mount him.

The ambulance rolled forward just as she sprang into the saddle. The gelding tossed his head and circled once before giving in to her lead. She put him at a canter and soon joined the lieutenant at the front of the column.

“Afternoon, Miss Huntington,” he said, barely giving her a glance.

She smiled at him, not revealing her disappointment. She had hoped to surprise him. Of course, he had such a poker face she might not have known it if she had. How could he be so aloof?

“Afternoon, Miss Huntington,” called the sergeant riding on the other side of Forrester. “You picked a fine horse there.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Whiting. I think he’ll do nicely.”

“Kolchek’s known around here for his horses.
He’s careful what he buys and likes to do his own training.”

“He said this one’s a four-year-old he bought as a colt.”

Rebecca watched Forrester’s profile as she talked to the sergeant She truly loved that jaw. And the straight line of his nose and nearly straight brow were appealing as well. His gray eyes flicked in her direction, and she wondered if he sensed her scrutiny.

“How did you pay for the horse?” he asked, his eyes on the trail ahead.

Was the question simply a way to join the conversation, or was something else implied? She kept her voice light as she answered, “My mother left me some money. I closed out the account before we left Chicago, and I took some of it with me to dinner intending to buy a horse if one was available. So it wasn’t quite the impulsive decision it may have appeared. Did you think I charmed the horse away from him, Lieutenant?”

His head actually turned in her direction then. His eyes shot her a warning, and her grin broadened.
You don’t want me to tease you in front of the troops? Then let me get you alone.

“I know Kolchek pretty well, ma’am,” Sergeant Whiting said. “He loves his horses, and he knows the value of a dollar. I can’t imagine him giving a horse away. Though if anyone could charm him, you could, Miss Huntington.”

“Why, thank you, Sergeant,” Rebecca said, still grinning at the lieutenant.

He turned away, leaving her to study his profile again. The only hint of his annoyance was in the compression of his lips. She didn’t really want to make him angry with her, but it was hard to resist teasing someone so stiff, someone so determined to ignore her. She could guess that he regretted even speaking to her. He didn’t again for quite some time.

She and the sergeant spoke occasionally about the names of the creeks they crossed, and other landmarks in the monotonous plain.

Rebecca was in heaven. She loved riding, she loved the prairie and had longed for it the past six years. And she liked being near good-looking men even if they pretended to ignore her.

The last thought made her smile. “Isn’t it a perfect day?”

“Unless you take that storm into account.” The lieutenant pointed ahead and to the left.

Rebecca looked at the deep blue settling on the south-western horizon and knew it meant rain, possibly wind and hail as well. She sighed dramatically. “There’s only one cloud in the sky, Lieutenant. Does that define the whole day?”

“My guess, ma’am, is that it will pretty well define this evening.”

Rebecca laughed. She couldn’t help it. Forrester worked so hard at being serious. “Right now, the sun
is shining. And whether it rains tonight or not, I’ll be closer to home than I was yesterday.”

“That brings up a question I’ve been meaning to ask you, Miss Huntington.” He didn’t turn toward her for more than a glance from the corner of his eye. “You said you had been gone for six years. How—”

Rebecca interrupted. “When did I say that, Lieutenant?”
On the train.
Of course he remembered, too.

He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed once. “Early in our association.”

Rebecca grinned. He clearly wanted to forget the incident. She wanted to make it just as clear that she liked remembering it. “Yes,” she murmured. “I did say six years.”

It was a moment before he returned to his question. “How is it that you’re
returning
home when Fort Hays didn’t exist six years ago, or even six months ago?”

Ah, was he wondering if she had been lying to him? “That’s easy, Lieutenant.” She swept her arm across the horizon then held her hand to her heart. “The prairie is my home.”

“Very poetic, but it doesn’t answer my question.” There was the barest sparkle of humor in his eyes when he glanced toward her.

“I’ve lived in forts all over the West. Wherever my father is, is home. I don’t know why I didn’t explain that at the time, unless I was distracted.”

He missed her wide-eyed, innocent expression entirely
by refusing to look at her. She rode in cheerful silence until they made camp at what Whiting called Spring Creek.

After Rebecca had fed and watered the gray gelding and picketed him with the cavalry horses, she made her way to the ambulance. Evening was coming on quickly, and there was a definite smell of rain in the air. The campsite was set up but empty. “Aunt Belle,” she called. “Alicia?”

“They went down to the creek to wash.”

She spun around to find Victor Brooks standing directly behind her.

“I was hoping you would turn up before they got back,” he said. “I missed you this afternoon.”

“That’s sweet of you,” she said. She walked around the camp pretending to study its layout as a way of moving away from him. It didn’t work; he soon intercepted her.

“I can be sweeter still,” he murmured.

“Mr. Brooks,” she said, choosing now to stand her ground. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake.”

“Is that so?” He stopped too close to her. He was taller than she had noticed, broader. The tension in his posture, the sharpness of the softly spoken words, even his smell seemed threatening. Alcohol, she realized.

“Yes, it’s so,” she said firmly. “I’ve given you no reason to expect…”

He touched her cheek lightly. She drew back and watched his brows come together in a scowl. “You gave me every reason to expect plenty. All your bright smiles.” His voice lowered as he added, “Your whispers.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and she stepped away. “No,” she said again, crossing her arms in front of her. “I intended to be friendly. That’s all.”

“You know that’s not all you intended. We ain’t got time for you to play coy. The others’ll be back any minute.” He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her roughly toward him.

Rebecca jerked her hands upward, intending to push him away. One curled fist caught him on the chin. He swore and shoved her away. She staggered but caught her balance, eyeing him warily as he tested his tongue for blood.

“You tease!” he croaked. “Ain’t I good enough no more? Since you got a horse now, you got your eye on a officer like Dixie Boy? Well, don’t worry,
lady,
I understand completely.”

He turned on his heel and stalked toward his messmates’ fire. Rebecca let out a deep breath. Had he really interpreted her friendly smiles as flirting? Perhaps he had seen what he wanted to see. She sank into one of the folding chairs. Could flirting have become second nature to her until she did it without realizing it?

A few minutes later her aunt and cousin returned.
They were both in the dresses they had worn at noon. “Don’t say anything,” Aunt Belle said, marching past her. “I will not believe that there are Indians lurking about in this weather.” She climbed into the ambulance and let the canvas drop back into place.

Alicia came to sit beside Rebecca. “I thought it would be all right,” she said. “I didn’t tell her what you said about the lieutenant’s bluff.”