Oklahoma Bride

“Well, he tackled me and knocked me in the mud,” Karissa defended between bites. “What was I supposed to do? Thank him kindly for nearly drowning me and squishing me down in the slime?”

Micah ambled over to sit down in the chair—backward. He draped his muscled arms on the back of the chair and regarded her with blatant admiration. “Rafe might find you a bit unconventional, but I like your style. I always did admire a woman with pluck and gumption.”

Karissa sank down at the table to devour her meal. “And I’m cautious of men who are quick with compliments.” She eyed him with amused curiosity. “What do you want from me, Micah?” she said informally. “And do keep in mind that you won’t get it.”

He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “No small talk for you, I see. Just cut to the chase.” He nodded approvingly. “No wonder Rafe is having a hard time dealing with you. You’re nothing like the women he’s accustomed to.”

“The dainty and dignified types who bat their lashes and compliment his striking good looks and intelligence?” She sniffed in disgust.

“My sentiments exactly,” Micah agreed. “I’ve never trusted a woman who fawns and flatters. It means she wants something and that makes me suspicious. But then, I was raised in an Indian camp, not in the posh drawing rooms of the highest military echelon on the East Coast.”

“Like Rafe Hunter,” she presumed. “So what’s a man like him doing on this outpost of civilization? I suspect that he has the necessary connections to land a plum commission in someplace that’s safe, civilized and dignified.”

Micah shrugged. “He does and he could. Rafe graduated with high marks and honors from West Point. But he isn’t the type who is satisfied with taking the easy way out. We’ve faced hostile Apaches and Comanches together and he’s guarded my back while I guarded his. He likes the rigorous challenges of defending the country and protecting its honest citizens.”

A dyed-in-the-wool career army officer, Karissa mused. It was just her luck to be arrested by the gung-ho major.

“He’s damn good at his job,” Micah added. “He’s earned the respect of most of the soldiers under his command. Except for the lazy few who expend more effort trying to avoid work than carrying their share of the load. Rafe has a low tolerance for that type,” he added. “He never asks one of his men to do something he isn’t prepared to do himself. Despite his privileged background he isn’t afraid of hard work and he doesn’t shy away from trouble or tough decisions.”

“Enough on that dull topic,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “How long am I to be detained? I’m certain my brother and his wife are concerned about me. I would like to get word to them. Even better if I could reassure them in person.” She tossed Micah a meaningful glance.

“Does this imaginary brother know you were trespassing on the unopened territory?” Micah asked.

Karissa set down her fork and stared the ruggedly handsome half-breed squarely in the eye. “My brother and sister-in-law are very real. They are camped along the river, about five miles from this fort. At the very least I would like to relay the message that I’m alive and well. Of course, I would prefer to omit the part about being under arrest. No need to upset them, after all.”

Micah inclined his head agreeably. “I’ll see what I can do to reassure them, but I’m afraid Rafe has his rules about immediately releasing squatters who jumped the gun before the Land Run. You, my dear lady, have to accept the fact that you will be detained until Rafe decides to release you.”

Karissa’s shoulders slumped in frustration. While she was stuck at the garrison, someone else might sneak into the territory and stake the property that she had fallen in love with the moment she walked over the rolling hill and saw the lush countryside spread out before her. That wild, untamed land had called out to her as nothing else ever had. She could have sworn she heard home whispering in the gentle breeze.

“If I’m to be detained then I need something to occupy my time,” she insisted. “I’ll be climbing these walls if I have nothing to do. Can you arrange for me to become a laundress? Surely with so many soldiers about, I can earn wages by washing and cleaning.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Micah replied. “Rafe might, however. He doesn’t trust you not to break and run the first chance you get.”

Karissa glanced up when she noticed a shadow hovering outside the window. Ten feet away, the fort commandant loomed over her, watching her like an eagle-eyed predator. The man obviously trusted her so little that he volunteered to stand watch so she didn’t make a break for it via the window.

Out of pure spite, Karissa emulated the mannerisms of a gushing female by batting her eyes and waving enthusiastically at Rafe. Sure enough, he frowned skeptically at the sudden contradiction of her feisty temperament.

When Rafe disappeared from sight, Micah snickered. “As much as you seem to delight in antagonizing Rafe, that’s no way to gain his favor and respect.”

“I couldn’t care less about gaining his respect. The less contact we have with each other the better.” She glared at the resolute presence beyond the window then turned away to polish off her meal.

When the door swung open a few minutes later, Karissa glanced up to see His Truly towering over her. Instant but unwanted awareness sizzled through her. The mere sight of Rafe Hunter in his dress uniform—which boasted decorative gold braid and dozens of medals—was enough to take a woman’s breath away. Even a hopeless cynic’s like herself.

His dark hair had been recently washed and combed. His eyes gleamed like silver in the flickering lamplight. Standing tall, masculine and distinguished in his polished black boots, he truly was a sight to behold.

It was easy to understand why gently bred ladies from his social circle would consider him a prize catch. Yet, there was something about him that testified to the fact that the army was his life and that he took his duties very seriously. A woman could never compete with that single-minded devotion, she predicted.

However, Karissa thought with wry amusement, this distinguished officer—who practically radiated authority—chose to approach her while Micah was present. Karissa found small consolation in the knowledge that Rafe Hunter wasn’t sure how to handle her and was leery of being alone with her again.

Why was that? she wondered. Didn’t he trust her? Or didn’t he trust himself? Whatever the reason, this man wasn’t going to take her for granted the way she suspected he took other women for granted.

“Miss Baxter,” Rafe said in an overly polite tone, “one of the officers’ wives offered you decent clothing.” Stiffly, he thrust the dresses at her then shifted awkwardly. “As for the…um…feminine paraphernalia that goes beneath it, I won’t be able to provide that until the post trader’s store opens in the morning. As for proper shoes, that might take some time in acquiring. You’ll have to wear your cloddish boots.”

Difficult as it was to be gracious, Karissa rose from her chair to accept the dresses. “Thank you,” she murmured, uncomfortable with accepting charity. “I was just telling Captain Whitfield that I would like to occupy my time and earn wages by becoming a fort laundress.”

Rafe’s thick brows flattened over his narrowed eyes. “I think not. You’ll have to find something to occupy yourself in my room. Perhaps you can sew buttons back on uniforms and darn socks. But you will not be permitted to have the run of this garrison.”

Karissa hitched her chin in the air and defiantly strode over to the cot. She proceeded to jerk off the blanket and sheets. Holding Rafe’s fuming gaze, she dumped the bedding on the floor then made short shrift of transferring his personal belongings from his trunk to the floor.

Beside her, she heard Micah camouflage a chuckle behind a cough. She glanced over her shoulder to see him battling to keep a straight face—and failing miserably.

Rafe glared sabers at her. “Are you finished making your point, Miss Baxter?” he growled.

“Not quite.” Karissa knew she was sliding on the thin edge of his temper, but it was her nature to spit in the face of defeat. She made a beeline for the bookshelf that was lined with military manuals and dumped them, one by one, atop the bedding. “Now I’m finished and I’m bored again.”

Micah bounded from his chair, his eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. “I think I had better leave before the next skirmish starts. Don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire.”

“No, you’ll stay,” Rafe demanded without taking his eyes off Karissa.

“You definitely have to stay, Captain,” Karissa chimed in then flashed Rafe an impudent grin. “The General is afraid to be alone with me. Terrified, in fact.”

She almost cackled when he puffed up with so much indignation he nearly popped the brass buttons off his uniform.

“Given my position of authority here, there are a lot of people who are afraid to cross me.” He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “You should be one of them.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were God’s brother,” she sassed him.

Micah snickered, but he schooled his amused expression when Rafe shot him an irritated glance.

“Might I remind you, Miss Baxter,” Rafe said through clenched teeth, “that your other option here is to be jailed with the male prisoners in the stockade.”

Karissa shrugged carelessly. “I can take care of myself, General. And believe me, I have found myself in more harrowing situations than being thrust into a stockade with male prisoners.” Her green eyes sparkled with challenge. “Of course, if you wish to contend with a full-scale riot that voices objections to being crowded into unsanitary conditions that, no doubt, plague your stockade, then lead me to it.”

“I don’t think she’s spouting an empty threat, Rafe. It wouldn’t take much to incite the imprisoned settlers. Joan of Arc here looks all too eager to champion a rebellion,” Micah interjected. “However, we are short on laundresses at the moment and we could use her offered services. You can always put a guard on her so you can keep track of her constantly.”

Karissa graced Micah with her best smile. “Ah, a man who shows reason and common sense.” She turned back to the stony-faced commander. “I can understand why Captain Whitfield has been chosen as second in command to serve as your advisor, consultant and mentor.”

She waited, wondering if Rafe would relent, especially after she had purposely goaded him. He stood there so stiffly for so long that she almost gave up and resorted to taking the rest of his room apart and leaving it in shambles. Finally he blew out his breath and nodded curtly.

“Very well, Miss Baxter, you can begin your duties as laundress and housekeeper in the officers’ quarters first thing in the morning.” He glared at her again. “And you can start by undoing the damage to my room. I want this place to look exactly the way it did before you performed your whirling dervish act.”

She flashed him a mocking smile and noticed his jaw clenched in determined restraint. She suspected he would enjoy strangling her for maneuvering him into agreeing to her request. Well, tough. She would like to choke him for detaining her at the post.

“You are too kind, General,” she cooed pretentiously.

“For the last time,” he gritted out, “stop calling me General!”

When the door swung shut behind Rafe and Micah, Karissa half collapsed on the bed. Squaring off against Rafe Hunter was exhausting. She decided to postpone her escape attempt for a day. Besides, she could use the extra money and she would have the opportunity to familiarize herself with the daily routine at the fort. With money jingling in her pocket she could plan the perfect time to make her escape without drawing too much attention to herself. Then she would return to the property she hoped to claim for her brother and sister-in-law.