Carol Finch (7 page)

Karissa was sincerely grateful when Rafe fell silent and urged his mount into a gallop. She was more than ready to reach the fort and put some distance between them. Having him so close was a tormenting reminder that she had recklessly succumbed to kissing an engaged man who was still more enemy than friend.

Obviously, she had suffered a severe lapse of good judgment when she had come crashing down from her adrenaline rush and felt the overwhelming need to lean on someone for support and compassion.

She should have leaned on a tree until she pulled herself together.

R
afe escorted Karissa to his room and helped her begin to restore the place to order. He called to Micah to join them, noting the shocked look on his friend’s face when he noticed the quarters were a disheveled disaster.

“What the hell happened in here?” Micah asked as he picked up shards of glass. “It looks as if someone had a knock-down-drag-out fight.”

When Karissa flashed Rafe an I-told-you-so glance, Rafe shoved the bookshelf back against the wall and crammed the books into place haphazardly. Although he’d had serious doubts about Karissa’s character and scruples when he had first captured her, he had observed her behavior during several telling situations that made him feel as if he had known her much longer than a few days. She was a scrappy fighter who refused to whimper in the face of difficulty or defeat. She acted and reacted quickly and decisively. She didn’t get scared; she got
mad
when she encountered frightening situations.

True, she might have used her alluring sexuality as bargaining power in the past, but the moment she tore a strip off her gown to serve as a bandage for the man who had come dangerously close to abusing her, Rafe
had discovered something else about her. Karissa Baxter could be compassionate and forgiving. When he learned that Karissa had risked arrest in order to help her injured brother, he realized she was self-sacrificing and attended to the needs of her loved ones before her own.

And, yes, Rafe intended to verify her story about an injured brother, but he was pretty sure there
was
a brother out there on the prairie somewhere, waiting to attempt to stake his claim. She might have mocked Rafe for his unswerving loyalty to duty, but she was guilty of that same single-minded devotion to her family.

“Micah, I have pressing business to attend to,” Rafe announced as he headed for the door. “Will you see to it that this place is cleaned up, then draw a bath and send a supper tray for Karissa. She’s had a rough night.”

“I sure as hell hope you weren’t the cause of it,” Micah muttered as he stared pointedly at Karissa’s bruised cheek and tattered dress. “I knew you were furious with her, but—”

“He didn’t lay a hand on me,” Karissa cut in, tilting her chin upward. “He’s too much the gentleman for that.”

Rafe cocked a brow. She was letting him know straightaway that she wasn’t going to hold that amorous interlude over his head like an ax on a chopping block. Obviously she had meant what she said. To her, the encounter hadn’t happened.

He wished his body would stop screaming reminders at him that it most certainly
had
happened. Staring at her, disheveled though she looked, made him want her all over again. And that left him feeling guilty and frustrated and disappointed in himself.

“So,” Micah said, his piercing gaze darting back and
forth between Karissa and Rafe, “who is responsible for abusing you?”

“She can fill you in while I send out a patrol to bring in her assailants and tend to some business at the post,” Rafe said as he spun on his boot heel.

Jaw clenched, fists knotted, Rafe whizzed outside and stalked across the parade grounds to the barracks. He found Harlan Billings hunkered over a table, studying his poker hand.

“Corporal Billings, I want a word with you.” More than
a
word actually, Rafe thought furiously. He was inclined to rain down foul curses on Harlan’s head and then beat him to a senseless pulp. The prospect of one of his men assaulting Karissa—in Rafe’s room no less—made him boiling mad.

“Outside,” Rafe muttered when Harlan joined him at the door.

“I’m glad you came by, sir, “Harlan said contritely as he fell into step behind Rafe. “I need to report a disconcerting incident that occurred late this afternoon. If you haven’t observed the results of the tussle by now, I’m sure you will soon, sir.”

Rafe grabbed on to his self-control with slippery fists. As commander, he was obliged to hear Harlan out, to let him tell his side of the story. But it was damn hard to stand still when he really wanted to stuff his fist down the man’s throat and yank out his tongue!

“It all started when I refused to let Miss Baxter quit early for the day,” Harlan insisted. “She seemed to think she was entitled to special privileges since she was staying in your room.” Harlan’s eyes dropped and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Granted, I don’t know exactly what the situation is with Miss Baxter, but
I was under the impression she was hired for a full day’s work at the laundry.”

Rafe gnashed his teeth, refusing to comment until Harlan had said his piece. But it wasn’t easy when he was stung by the impulsive need to call the man a liar—right to his face.

“Miss Baxter stalked off to your quarters, sir,” Harlan went on. “I followed her, of course. She swore and cursed at me when I insisted she return to finish her duties. Then she threw a royal tantrum and tore your quarters apart.”

Harlan lifted his arms in a helpless gesture. “I tried to stop her, of course, but she sank in her claws and shoved me aside. She swore she would claim that I tried to force myself on her and see to it that I was punished. She knocked me against the bookshelf, but I tried to restrain her from doing more damage to your room. Then she smashed the lantern over my head. I had kerosene in my eyes and I couldn’t catch up with her when she ran off. I have no idea where she has gotten off to, sir, but I swear that woman is a raging lunatic.”

“And you didn’t immediately notify the officer of the day after the incident?” Rafe said.

“No, sir, I went to see Doc Winston. He washed out my eyes before I took a bath to rid myself of the smell of kerosene.”

“For your information, Corporal, Miss Baxter has returned to the fort, but her version of the incident is in drastic contrast to yours,” Rafe snapped.

Harlan nodded grimly. “She warned me that she would twist the truth. That crazed female might have led you to believe she’s a lady, but she’s the exact opposite. I hope you won’t assign me to guarding her again, sir. Two days with her was punishment enough.”

Rafe waited a beat then said, “I think you’re lying right through your teeth, Corporal.”

All pretense of polite respect gone, Harlan jerked up his head and jeered, “And I’m wondering, as the rest of the men are, if you’re receiving fringe benefits for taking
her
side against me.”

Rafe loomed over the weasely corporal, wishing he could have the man dishonorably discharged, right on the spot. But he didn’t have time for an investigation and lengthy military proceedings, especially with the Land Run looming ahead of him.

His cavalry was already stretched to the limits. He barely had enough soldiers to keep watch over the Cheyenne and Arapaho reservation, to protect the would-be settlers who had pitched their camps along the boundaries of the new territory from brutal ruffians and dishonest scoundrels, and patrol the area for squatters. He needed every soldier he could get, even ones like Harlan who would be digging latrines and mucking the barn from now until doomsday.

“You will be put on report and I will look into this matter further,” Rafe said sharply. “In the meantime, you will be on stable duty and night guard duty until further notice. Your sergeant will be instructed to keep a close eye on you.”

“Yes, sir,” Harlan muttered before Rafe wheeled around and left.

Harlan cursed colorfully as the commander disappeared into the officers’ quarters. It was fine and dandy for Rafe Hunter to bring his own private harlot to the fort, but the rest of the men were denied such lusty pleasures. Obviously, the commander was placing his own interests above the men under his command.

For months Harlan had resented the commander’s po
sition of authority and he swore he was being picked on each time his name was overlooked for promotions. Indeed, he’d been demoted for nothing more than a few charges of drunken and disorderly conduct.

Well, he’d kowtowed to Rafe Hunter for the last time. If that feisty trollop was going to make Harlan’s life hell then he’d return the favor by contacting Rafe’s fiancée. No doubt, she would be interested in knowing that her betrothed was tumbling in the sheets with a camp follower who sought to better her life by cozying up with the commandant of this military post.

Harlan smiled wickedly as he headed for the post’s telegraph office. Rafe Hunter wasn’t going to threaten him with discharge without facing the consequences. Harlan would spread the word around the fort that Commander Hunter wasn’t fit for command and he’d bring Hunter’s harlot face-to-face with his fiancée. That should cause the uppity major more trouble than he’d know what to do with.

Whether Rafe Hunter and his whore knew it or not, they had crossed the wrong man. Harlan grinned in satisfaction. Nothing would make him happier than to see Major Hunter relieved of his command. That would be a crushing blow to him and his highfalutin family.

The prospect of ruining Rafe’s career left Harlan chuckling devilishly as he sent off the message urging Vanessa Payton to catch the first train west if she wanted her wedding to Rafe to take place.

A few days later, Vanessa Payton excused herself from her dance partner when a courier arrived with a message. Stepping into the abandoned hall, she read the brief telegram and gasped in outrage. According to Har
lan Billings—whoever he was—her betrothed had taken a mistress who had set her cap at Vanessa’s intended.

“Blast and be damned,” Vanessa muttered irritably. Whether she was in love with Rafe Hunter—which, of course, she wasn’t since she barely knew him—was not the point. She needed the security of this union and she needed it as quickly as possible.

Rafe had already put her off another few months, using the excuse that his constant duties in Indian Territory demanded so much of his time. But it wouldn’t be long before her peers in the palatial ballrooms in Virginia realized the Paytons were suffering serious financial difficulties.

Vanessa’s father had taken her aside eight months earlier to confide that he needed to make a match with the Hunters. Although Jonathan Payton had social connections galore, he had made several bad investments. He intended for his one and only daughter to marry well and he had struck a deal with his old friend who had served with him during the Civil War.

Of course, Vanessa had no intention of living in some backward army post during her marriage. With a generous allowance from Rafe, she could continue to enjoy the gala affairs in Virginia society. But none of that was going to happen unless she packed her bag, caught the train and persuaded Rafe to move up the wedding date a few months.

He was dallying with a nameless strumpet, she thought with an outraged huff. At least
her
dalliances included wealthy, respectable men from proper society. Men who could shower her with costly gifts that helped her keep up appearances.

Well, Vanessa mused as she called to her escort to see her home, she would marry Rafe before she returned
to Virginia. She knew how to charm and bedazzle men. Charming Rafe shouldn’t be too difficult. He had been an honorable man who stood by his commitments—until that little tramp sank her claws into him.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” her escort asked as he assisted her into his carriage. “You look upset.”

“I will be out of town for a few weeks,” Vanessa said absently. “I need to pay my fiancé a visit.”

William Gable sighed in frustration. “I don’t know why you think you need to go through with this marriage. I’ve made it clear that I love you, Nessa. I know I can’t compete with the Hunters’ wealth and prestige, but I could make you happy—”

“Will you please stop whining, Willy,” she fussed at him. “I have too much on my mind at the moment.”

“But I don’t understand why—”

She kissed him to shut him up. “Nothing between us will change when I return from my trip, but I promised my father I would agree to this match. I see no need to put it off. The sooner I have a ring on my finger the sooner we can resume our affair.”

“I wanted you as my wife,” he grumbled.

And no doubt, that floozy out in Indian Territory wanted Rafe as her husband, Vanessa silently fumed. Not everyone could have their way, but Vanessa was accustomed to getting hers, and she was not about to lose the monetary funds and social prestige she could acquire by hustling Rafe into a quick marriage.

After all, a woman had to do whatever necessary to preserve her social standing and enjoy the luxuries of wealth. Rafe Hunter would marry her, as promised. She was heading west—immediately—to protect her investment.

Micah inclined his head toward the gaggle of soldiers who had gathered around Karissa in the mess hall. She was handing out the uniforms she had mended. “She’s certainly become popular around the fort,” he remarked, while Rafe sullenly finished his meal. “I noticed one of our men had purposely ripped off a button just to have an excuse to take Karissa aside and ask her to mend the garment for him.”

“Yes,” Rafe grumbled, staring at his plate. “I observed the same thing myself on two occasions.”

“So…when are you going to release her?” Micah asked.

That was the same question Karissa had asked Rafe for the past three days. In fact, it was the only thing she ever said to him when he came within speaking distance. He had been avoiding her as much as possible. He’d figured that if he kept his distance maybe she wouldn’t drive him out of his mind. He’d been wrong. Nothing had prevented him from thinking about her all the livelong day. And half the night. Rafe had never had difficulty focusing on his military duties until that red-haired female disrupted his life.

He looked at Harlan Billings, who was staring bitterly at the crowd of men vying for Karissa’s attention. In a way, Rafe understood Harlan’s resentment—even if the woman had caused the corporal a different kind of trouble. But it was trouble Harlan deserved, nonetheless.

“Well?” Micah prompted when he didn’t receive an immediate response. “When are you releasing Karissa? You’ve already released the male squatters who were rounded up about the same time you brought her in.”