The Scout's Bride

“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 their way to her waist again and lingered there. Realizing her own hand rested on the front of his snowy shirt, she yanked it back and retreated.

“Mr. Middlefield, what an unexpected pleasure.” She beamed when she saw Malachi. “I didn’t know you had returned to Fort Chamberlain.”

Ducking his balding head, the teamster mumbled into his beard, “Got in last night. How are you, Mrs. Emerson?”

Jack frowned, taking note of her wedding band. He hadn’t seen it yesterday. And he hadn’t been looking for it just now when she had felt so nice in his arms. Mrs. Emerson, eh? Well, damn.

“Sorry to hear of your husband’s passin’, ma’am.” Malachi struggled with the formal words. “I ain’t had time for a proper call, but I aim to visit you soon as I can to pay my respects.”

“That’s very kind, Mr. Middlefield. I’ll look forward to it.” Rebecca favored him with another smile before turning to Jack. “How is your arm this morning, Mr. Bellamy?” she asked coolly.

“Better,” he answered, his tone just as aloof.

“And how is Private Greeley?”

“Sleeping, but Doc says his leg looks as well as can be expected.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Thank you for your kindness to Teddy… and to me.”

She glanced up at him, alert for any sign of insinuation or mockery in his blue eyes, but he stared off across the parade ground and went on uncomfortably, “I suspect I wasn’t the easiest patient you ever had, though the closer I got to the bottom of my flask, the hazier things became.”

He didn’t remember what had happened, Rebecca realized, almost limp with relief. Then, irrationally, she felt a stab of disappointment. That kiss had shaken her to the soles of her boots and he didn’t even remember.

“I woke up this morning, almost as good as new,” the scout concluded, smiling and far too handsome and clear-eyed for her liking.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me—” she nodded briskly in farewell”—I must get home.”

“I’ll walk you,” Injun Jack informed her, offering his arm.

She balked. “No, thank you.” It was one thing to chat with him on the headquarters porch and quite another to be alone with him. What if he remembered, after all?

“Pardon me, Injun Jack.” Private Ballard appeared beside them. “Colonel Quiller wants to see you and he has ordered me to take Mrs. Emerson home. At once.”

The big scout’s jaw set belligerently. “Tell him I’ll—”

“Mr. Bellamy, you really should go to the colonel,” Rebecca blurted, grateful for the interruption. “After my conversation with him, I doubt he’s in the mood to be kept waiting.”

“He is pretty riled, sir.” The orderly stepped between them, nervous but insistent. “I’ll see her home.”