Carol Finch (9 page)

Harlan nodded, waiting for Vanessa to offer him a glass of her fancy wine. She didn’t. Neither did her snippy behavior gel with the well-mannered sophisticate he had seen flitting around the mess hall.

Vanessa was a haughty, self-serving bitch—exactly the kind of woman Harlan would have wished on the high-and-mighty Rafe Hunter.

“Just how long has Rafe been carrying on a liaison with that whore?” Vanessa asked bluntly, then sipped her wine.

“A week. I thought you should know that she intends to land your fiancé.” Harlan licked his lips, hungering for a taste of wine. He was sure it was sweeter than Vanessa.

Vanessa sniffed in disdain. “She isn’t going to get her hands on him,” she promised resolutely. “And you are going to help me insure that she doesn’t. Of course, you will be compensated for your services.”

That was what Harlan wanted to hear. He was always eager to acquire enough money to indulge in his two favorite pastimes—guzzling whiskey and paying occasional visits to the red light district in the nearby community that catered to the needs of the soldiers at the fort.

“And just where is that tramp staying? In a tent somewhere outside the fort?” Vanessa asked.

Harlan shook his head. “In the commander’s room.” He delighted in watching Vanessa lose all her polished charm.

“With Rafe?” she howled in exasperation.

“No, he’s bunking with Micah Whitfield.” Harlan
smiled slyly. “Or at least, that’s where he starts the evening, before he sneaks in to join his trollop.”

Vanessa slammed down her glass, slopping wine on the table, then motioned Harlan toward the door. “Get out of here while I dress. I intend to pay that strumpet a visit straightaway. The sooner she leaves the better.”

When Harlan stepped outside, Vanessa hurriedly changed into her velvet gown. Things were worse than she had imagined if Rafe had turned his private quarters over to his harlot.

Everything else around this post was so far below her standards that it had taken all her restraint to prevent snorting in disgust when Rafe took her on a short tour of the garrison. She could not imagine why Rafe had accepted this position in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a company of men—most of whom were uncultured and probably illiterate—keeping watch over a bunch of savages that had been contained on reservations.

With his wealth and social connections he could be back East, sitting behind a desk during the day and attending sophisticated balls at night. He could be rubbing shoulders with the crème de la crème of society.

The man must have some perverse need for challenge that she had failed to comprehend. But as soon as she had his ring on her finger—provided he could even find a wedding band out here in the outback of civilization—she was heading to Virginia to set up housekeeping with the allowance she would insist upon.

If Rafe Hunter’s family wasn’t practically made of money she would have canceled the engagement and caught the next train home. But she needed to seal this match as quickly as possible. With his well-respected family name to open any doors that might slam shut
when her father’s mounting debts became public knowledge, she could avoid embarrassment and disaster.

Her gown gaping, Vanessa whipped open the door and turned her back on the weasely informant who awaited her. “Fasten me up, Harlan.”

“With pleasure, miss,” he said as he accommodated her.

She endured his repulsive touch until he had completed the task then pushed him ahead of her. “I won’t need your services after you show me to that trollop’s room. If she isn’t gone by tomorrow then you must meet me here after dark so we can plan our strategy.”

“For a price,” Harlan reminded her. “I’ve already taken a great risk by summoning you here. I’ll definitely need compensation for sticking my neck out.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes in disgust. She was short on funds herself. Now she would have to share them with this homely cretin in return for his cooperation. But with any luck, she could confront Rafe’s whore and send her packing then turn all her charm on Rafe and persuade him to move up the wedding date.

She could be married within a week and on her way home before the Watham’s annual ball. No one who was anyone would think of missing that grand affair. And Vanessa planned to be there, swathed in an outrageously expensive gown, bought and paid for with the Hunter family money.

The quiet tap at the door brought Karissa upright in bed. She had drifted off to sleep after Rafe left and she planned on rising before the crack of dawn. She did not need late-night interruptions when she had a long walk ahead of her in the early morning.

Serenaded by rumbles of thunder and flickering light
ning that flashed against the window, Karissa rolled off the edge of the bed to dress hurriedly. Raking her tangled hair away from her face, she padded barefoot to the door. To her surprise, Vanessa Payton stood outside, dressed in her expensive gown, wearing a necklace of jewels and sporting sparkling rings on every finger—except the one where a wedding band was supposed to go.

If the woman intended to make her feel dowdy and outclassed she had succeeded. Seeing the striking, statuesque blonde up close was a vivid reminder that their social classes were worlds apart.

Without requesting an invitation, Vanessa swept past Karissa to pan the modest room with visible distaste. She spun around, the rustle of her gown breaking the stilted silence. “We weren’t formally introduced this evening,” she said aloofly. “Small wonder why.”

Reflexively Karissa raised her chin when the prissy chit looked down her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

Vanessa sniffed distastefully. “I should hope so. Obviously I am not going to tolerate your presence in my fiancé’s quarters. And more specifically in his
bed.
”

All pretense dropped away as Vanessa strode purposefully toward Karissa. “Let me be brief and to the point. I want you off this post immediately. I will not be humiliated by your presence. With your passable looks I’m sure you can entice someone else to become your meal ticket. Rafe Hunter is mine and I intend to keep him.”

Karissa blinked, startled by the abrupt change in Vanessa’s demeanor. And Rafe thought Karissa’s tongue was a double-edged sword? This woman had fawned and gushed all over Rafe in the mess hall. Apparently
that was just a pretentious charade to disguise the real Vanessa Payton’s grating personality.

“You have the wrong impression,” Karissa declared. “You obviously don’t know your fiancé well enough to realize that he is a man of honor.”

Vanessa smirked arrogantly. “I certainly do not need a nobody like you to offer advice on men in general or my fiancé in particular.” Her blue eyes narrowed threateningly. “If you are not off this post and out of Rafe’s life for good, I will make your life miserable. And believe me,
tramp,
I have had plenty of experience in getting what I want.”

Karissa met her condemning glare with typical defiance. “I plan to leave because it is
my
wont, not yours, Vanessa. And by the way, you are welcome to the commander. We have nothing in common.”

Vanessa flashed her another contemptuous glance. “
That,
of course, is more than obvious.” Loftily, she flounced toward the door. “Make certain we don’t cross paths again.”

When Vanessa exited, Karissa wasted no time dressing in breeches and stuffing her belongings into her carpetbag. After her encounter with Rafe this evening she had intended to go over the wall and disappear into the dark hours before dawn. Then that snippy sophisticate showed up to reaffirm Karissa’s belief that she had endured this captivity long enough.

This week, while tending to her laundress duties, Karissa had studied the soldiers’ routine of changing guards and surveyed the post so she could utilize the best avenue of escape. After the guard passed by, she sneaked out the window and clung to the shadows to avoid detection.

Most of the guards, she had noted previously, never
glanced upward—which is why she tossed her carpetbag onto the roof then shinnied up the supporting beam and moved swiftly across the top of the barracks. The leap between the barracks and arsenal was a mite unnerving—especially when accompanied by the crack of thunder and streaks of lightning—but she made the jump with six inches to spare.

Rain pounded on her in torrents as she waddled like a duck on the roof. Karissa bypassed the south lookout tower that housed a guard. Reaching out, she clamped a slippery hold of the rough-hewn stockade fence. Slinging one leg sideways, she managed to balance herself momentarily while the wind howled like a coyote and rain hammered at her back. Rolling sideways, she dropped to the ground outside the fort.

She knew the property that she hoped to claim would be the first place Rafe looked for her, so she tramped off to the settlers’ encampment to rejoin her brother and sister-in-law.

Karissa hoped that when Rafe didn’t find her trespassing in the new territory he would simply leave her be. It was for the best, she reminded herself as she scurried through the stormy darkness. Nothing was ever going to come between them, even if she had developed an unexplainable yearning for him. Now that his fiancée had arrived on the scene Karissa’s presence was most awkward and unwelcome.

A rueful smile pursed her lips as she wiped raindrops from her eyes and scuttled toward the encampment that consisted of prairie schooners and tents. Even as aggravated as Rafe made her on occasion she almost felt sorry for him. Vanessa Payton was not the woman he thought he was marrying.

Karissa would bet her last cent that Vanessa was only
interested in the wealth, influence and prestige the Hunter name provided. After all, Vanessa didn’t know Rafe well enough to love him—or even to like him, for that matter.

No, Karissa assured herself during her late-night trek through the wind and rain. Money and prominence motivated Vanessa. Of course, Karissa couldn’t tell Rafe that without appearing spiteful and jealous. She only hoped that, intelligent man that he was, Rafe would figure it out for himself before it was too late.

Karissa wasn’t sure she would wish the haughty Vanessa on her worst enemy. And especially not on the man for whom she had developed this forbidden attraction.

Well, that fascination ended here and now, she told herself resolutely. She would have no further association with Rafe. It was over and done and that was for the best.

R
afe knocked on the door to his quarters then swore colorfully when he peered into the room to find Karissa and her belongings gone. Damn it, how had she sneaked past the guards?

“So she’s gone, is she?” Micah said from behind him. “I’m not surprised.”

Rafe closed the door and glanced suspiciously at his friend. “And I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that you aided in her escape.”

Micah grinned as he ambled toward the mess hall. “Karissa doesn’t need my help. She’s developed impressive survival skills of her own. Besides, it’s for the best and you damn well know it. You can’t keep her underfoot while your fiancée is here.”

Rafe scowled as he fell into step beside Micah. What the hell was Vanessa doing here anyway? He had informed her by correspondence that he would return to Virginia after the Land Run, when things had settled down and law and order prevailed.

And damn it all, he had been perfectly satisfied to make the match until he had encountered the tormenting distraction that went by the name Karissa Baxter. Last
night he’d lain in bed, comparing his sophisticated and attractive fiancée to Karissa—and wishing Vanessa had stayed home.

Well, she was here, nonetheless, and Rafe was obliged to entertain her. “Vanessa asked me to show her around the area,” Rafe commented as they entered the mess hall.

“Not to worry, Rafe,” Micah quickly assured him. “I’ll handle the patrol.”

“If you find Karissa—”

Micah held up his hand and smiled wryly. “I’ll take care of everything, my friend. The resourceful young lady included.”

Although Rafe had no reason to be jealous or possessive he didn’t like the sound of that. He shot Micah a dark look then scowled when his friend snickered.

“It is beyond me how you think you can court one woman when there’s another woman on your mind.” He inclined his head toward the dazzling blonde who had taken her place at the table and was chatting with the officers’ wives. “Enjoy your day, Commander, and I’ll enjoy mine.”

Rafe took his seat and listened to Vanessa prattle incessantly about the balls she had attended during the social season and updated him on the recent activities of their mutual acquaintances. By the time he returned from taking her on a tour of the Cheyenne and Arapaho reservation at Darlington and strolled the boardwalks of the small community, he was sporting a raging headache. Vanessa’s conversation bored him to tears. She batted her long-lashed eyes at him, oozed feminine charm…and he felt oddly disappointed. If he married Vanessa, as planned, this is what he had to look forward to each evening for the rest of his life.

The thought made him grimace.

“I have decided that since I’m here we should make arrangements for our wedding,” Vanessa was saying as Rafe escorted her back to the mess hall for their evening meal. “You won’t have to bother with the plans. I will take care of everything.” She smiled brightly at him. “After all, that is one of the duties of a proper wife. Working behind the scenes to make a man’s life run smoothly and efficiently.”

“We planned to be married in Virginia with our families in attendance, in a few months,” Rafe reminded her. “My time-consuming duties, and the problems in this new territory, will escalate after the Land Run. I’m sorry, Vanessa, but this is a bad time.”

It was an excuse and Rafe damn well knew it. Promise or not, he was not inclined to rush into a wedding that was becoming less appealing by the hour. He couldn’t look at Vanessa without making another dozen comparisons to Karissa.

While Karissa challenged, defied him and kept his emotions in a tailspin, Vanessa merely bored him with inconsequential chatter. He didn’t give a fig how many social affairs she and his former acquaintances had attended. He had obviously been on the frontier too long, because the life Vanessa referred to constantly seemed surreal and meaningless.

And no matter how many times she touched his arm and graced him with her enchanting smile, Rafe couldn’t work up enthusiasm to kiss her. Definitely no attraction, he mused as he ate his meal and listened to Vanessa drone on monotonously. There was simply no spark between them.

And yes, damn it, he specifically remembered telling Micah that it didn’t matter, because marriage was a dis
tant second to his duty as post commander. Unfortunately, his encounters with the fire-breathing redhead had forced him to rethink his attitude toward this marriage of convenience.

“There is no reason to wait,” Vanessa was saying when Rafe finally got around to listening. “The officers’ wives have agreed to help me make all the arrangements for the ceremony and reception. Just leave everything to me. I have been trained to host such social affairs. All you have to do is attend the ceremony and everything else will be taken care of.”

“Who’s taking care of what?” Micah asked as he showed up late to take his place at the table.

“Our wedding,” Vanessa said excitedly. “I’m making arrangements to hold the nuptials within two weeks.”

“Two w—” Micah choked as his gaze darted to Rafe.

“Two—” Rafe wheezed incredulously.

He barely knew the chit, but he was
trying
to like this woman who was supposed to become his wife. Yet, when he looked past her outward beauty, he found very little substance that endeared her to him.

Maybe it was only because visions of Karissa squaring off against him and challenging his authority kept getting in his way. Maybe the memory of how it felt to hold her in his arms and taste the fire of desire that burst into flame when he kissed her made it impossible for him to give Vanessa a sporting chance.

Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to agree to a hasty wedding that he might come to regret. He was a soldier, first and foremost, and he was in no particular hurry to become a husband.

Vanessa chortled lightly as she patted his clenched fist. “You will have time to get used to the idea, Rafe.
Our wedding will be a grand affair, even if I don’t have all the resources at my disposal here at this post.”

His appetite spoiled, Rafe pushed aside his plate and came to his feet. “You’ll have to excuse me, Vanessa. I need to attend to tomorrow’s duty roster and check that no altercations between settlers have erupted in the nearby camps. Micah has had to serve double duty for me today and he needs his rest.”

“Beating a hasty retreat, Rafe?” Micah mocked quietly when Vanessa was out of earshot. “Thanks so much for dumping your fiancée in my lap. I would rather dig latrines.”

Rafe was beginning to feel the same way himself. He needed space and time alone to deal with the frustration that had been hounding him since he found Karissa gone.

A curious thought sprang quickly to mind and Rafe glanced down at Micah. “Did you come across many trespassers while on patrol?” he asked.

Micah nodded then sent him a meaningful stare. “Several of them. I locked the male prisoners in the stockade.”

So he hadn’t come upon Karissa, Rafe mused as he headed out the door. Perhaps she had decided to visit her brother. Good. That was safer than camping out alone on her would-be claim. Her injured brother couldn’t offer her much protection from trouble, but at least Rafe could rest easier knowing Karissa was in good company.

Karissa helped her sister-in-law tote in their evening meal from the community campfire. It had taken her most of the night to make her way through the heavy thunderstorm and reach camp. She was astounded by
how many tents had been pitched beside the stream northwest of the fort. The number of hopeful settlers had mushroomed from several hundred to well over a thousand. More competition for land, she mused as she glanced at the string of powerful-looking horses that had been tethered on the south side of the encampment.

She stared miserably at the sorry piece of horseflesh that she had purchased to make the Run. The old gray mare that had tripped over its own hooves and caused Clint to take a spill during their trek from Kansas was not a quality mode of transportation. She would be lucky indeed if she didn’t break her neck on the back of that horse when she plunged off the starting line to race for her claim.

“Why so glum?” Amanda asked as she appraised Karissa’s expression. “You’re beginning to look like Clint. And here I thought nothing ever got you down.”

Karissa mustered a smile for her sister-in-law. “I put in a long evening and a long walk,” she insisted. “I’m sure I’ll be my old self again after a good night’s rest.”

Amanda nodded and glanced down at her protruding belly. “I can’t recall the last time I had a good night’s sleep. I swear this babe is as energetic as you are. I have been kicked from inside out so much lately that I feel like a punching bag.”

When Amanda lovingly brushed her free hand over her midsection Karissa’s determination to claim a home for her family increased tenfold. She
had
to sneak back into the new territory to make her claim. She couldn’t face the disappointment of not providing a new start for Clint and Amanda. Even if she couldn’t realize her very own dream of owning property and building a home to call her own, Clint and Amanda would have their name
on the deed to one hundred sixty acres of fertile farmland.

Karissa ducked inside the shabby tent to see her brother ease upright on the cot. He muttered under his breath as he massaged his broken leg.

“Hell and damnation, I hate this.” Clint glowered at his leg. “The one time in my life when I wanted to take responsibility for you and Amanda, I can’t even stand up for more than ten minutes without getting light-headed.”

“We are in this together, all for one and one for all,” Amanda insisted, ever the optimist. “Karissa has assured me that she will do her best to stake a claim, but you have to rest while you can, because we have a home to build and crops to plant. Everything will work out, Clint.” She handed her scowling husband a tray of food and offered him a cheery smile. “You’ll see.”

“Amanda?” One of the women from the camp called from outside the tent. “There’s a soldier here who is asking to speak to a Miss Baxter.”

While Clint and Amanda frowned curiously at her, Karissa set aside her meal and ducked beneath the tent flap. She couldn’t say she was surprised to see Rafe sitting atop his roan gelding. But couldn’t he have arrived
after
she had eaten supper before he dragged her back into custody?

“Miss Baxter,” Rafe said with exaggerated politeness. “I would like to have a private word with you.”

“Of course, General.” She gestured toward the tent. “Perhaps you would like to meet my brother and sister-in-law first, just to reassure yourself that they aren’t fictitious.”

“My pleasure,” he said as he swung from the saddle.

Karissa eyed his muscular steed covetously. She
would give her eyeteeth to exchange horses with Rafe during the Land Run. At least then she would have a chance of outrunning the other settlers to reach her promised land.

“Nice of you to leave without saying goodbye,” Rafe said dryly as he strolled up beside her, looking all too handsome in his uniform. “I had to inquire at two encampments before I finally located you.”

“Sorry,” she said, her voice a long way from apologetic, “I was so homesick to see Clint and Amanda that I was compelled to leave in a rush.”

“And during a dangerous storm to boot,” he remarked as she led him toward the battered tent. “You’re lucky you weren’t lightning-struck.”

“Disappointed?” she asked flippantly.

He gave her an exasperated look before he ducked beneath the tent flap. “I’m not as spiteful and vindictive as you seem to think, Karissa. I was worried about your safety.”

And she was worried about the fragile condition of her heart. When he was nice to her, it was difficult to keep up her sassy pretense that protected emotions simmering too close to the surface.

To her further dismay, Rafe’s dominating presence seemed to fill the small tent to overflowing and heightened her awareness of him. He took up entirely too much space and stood entirely too close for her to take a breath without breathing him in.

“Clint, Amanda, this is Commander Rafe Hunter from Fort Reno. He was kind enough to let me stay at the post and earn wages as a laundress before I returned to camp.”

Rafe arched an amused brow. “Most of my men were sorry to see Karissa go,” he said as he walked over to
shake hands with Clint then bow politely before Amanda. “We’ve been shorthanded lately and Karissa took over some of the duties that we haven’t had much time to attend to ourselves.”

Always the gentleman, Karissa mused. Except when they were on opposing sides of a debate. He never thought twice about chewing her up one side and down the other in private. No doubt, she could expect more of the same when he dragged her out of earshot from her family and the other prospective settlers in camp.

“I won’t take much of your sister’s time,” Rafe said to Clint. “If you will excuse us?”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Commander Hunter,” Amanda said graciously. She offered her own tray of food to him. “Are you sure you won’t stay and take our meal with us?”

“Thank you, but I ate before I left the post. You are very thoughtful, Mrs. Baxter.”

When Karissa led the way back outside, Rafe fell into step beside her. “I like your sister-in-law.”

“Sorry, but she’s taken. Furthermore, you have a fiancée of your own,” Karissa said before she could stop herself.

“I came to call a truce,” he said as he took her elbow and shepherded her toward the canopy of trees away from the crowded campsite.

“Well then, you should have come waving a white flag over your head, General,” Karissa replied. “I presumed you had come to rearrest me.”

“No, you have served your time.” Rafe braced himself against a tree, crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her for a long moment.

Karissa fidgeted nervously. She couldn’t stare into those pewter-colored eyes for too long without forbid
den memories torturing her. “Then why are you here?” she demanded impatiently.

“I have a proposition for you.”

She cocked her head and smirked. “A concession of some sort from you? I must not have heard you correctly, General.”