Comanche Rose (20 page)

This time he mounted the step slowly, crawling into the musty depths of the wagon bed. He pulled off his muddy boots and his damp flannel shirt, then felt in the dark for the box Doc Sprenger had loaded. Finding it, he took out two wool blankets and a heavy quilt, which he carried to the straw mattress. On his knees, he rolled one of the blankets in the darkness, then found Annie. She flinched as his hand brushed her bare leg, but didn't actually move away. She was clinging to the edge of the mattress.

"It's all right," he assured her, laying the rolled blanket the length of her back.

"No," she choked out.

"Here." Unbuckling his gun belt, he reached over her and placed it in front of her. "That's a brand new spanking Colt revolver with five .44-caliber shells in it. If you find me on your side of the bundle, use it." When she didn't respond, he shook out the quilt and other blanket, covered himself, and lay down, his back to hers. "Now, let's get some shut-eye. Come morning, we're going to have one helluva time getting this wagon out of here."

Her hand on the holster, she lay awake long after he fell asleep, listening to his strong, even breathing. Beyond the fact he was a man, she had no reason to fear him. And given all he'd already done for her, she wanted desperately to trust him. But he was so different, so unlike Ethan. He'd been a Texas Ranger. And a man didn't get to be a ranger captain with kindness. Beneath Hap Walker's kindly, almost folksy, easygoing manner, there had to be a pretty rough man.

CHAPTER 13

The muddy road had made for hard traveling, and several times they'd had to unload the wagon, push it through the mire, then reload it. Once, when even that failed, they'd stood calf-deep in mud and dug it out. When they finally rolled into Fort Richardson two days late, they were filthy and exhausted. While Annie waited in the wagon, Hap met with the commanding officer to arrange for her stay there. Coming back, he told her he'd found a place with people the colonel characterized as "a nice young couple, a lieutenant and his wife, both of whom come from Arkansas."

But as soon as Annie met them, it was immediately apparent that Lulene Davis was no Cora Sprenger. Despite Frank Davis's assurances otherwise, his wife was obviously less than enthusiastic about welcoming a fallen woman into her home. Upon introduction she smiled thinly, looked her guest up and down with raised eyebrows, murmured something about "your unfortunate experience," and quickly turned her back, leaving the lieutenant to show her undesirable guest to her room.

Having nowhere else to go and not wanting to burden Hap, Annie spent most of the next two days there while he continued living in the wagon, affording her only an occasional glimpse of him from the window. She felt somewhat abandoned, but as Mrs. Davis failed to invite him to call or dine with them, there wasn't much she could do about it.

As nearly as she could tell, he was spending most of his waking time either at the post store or off the fort at what Mrs. Davis characterized as "an extremely unsavory can-tina." When the lieutenant attempted to defend the place, his wife wouldn't hear of it. "Everyone knows what those painted hussies are, and everyone knows exactly why the men go there," she retorted. "I'm quite certain it isn't for drink, which can be bought from the sutler."

Lulene rarely spoke to Annie, preferring to direct her conversation to her husband, saying such things as "Pray ask Mrs. Bryce to pass the potatoes, will you?" or "I'm sure Mrs. Bryce would prefer to retire when dinner is over." Trying to make up for his wife's ill manners, he took it upon himself to be a gracious host, which only increased the woman's dislike. It was so uncomfortable there that Annie desperately wanted to leave.

No one came to call, not even the colonel's wife, and while that wasn't entirely unexpected, it was hard to deny the anger Annie felt. As unjust as it was, she knew she was considered no better than those cantina girls Lulene Davis condemned. That it had been against her will didn't seem to matter. She'd been with an Indian, and that made her unfit for white society. She'd heard it in Sarabeth Hughes' voice, and she was seeing it in the Davis woman's manner.

Wednesday evening, supper was early, and Lulene came to the table dressed in a pretty braid-trimmed basque jacket, striped silk weskit, frilled lawn waist, and demi-bustled skirt. Taking off matching navy gloves, she laid them carefully beside her plate.

"You look fine tonight, Lu," Davis murmured appreciatively."

She flashed a smile at him. "Thank you."

"I take it you don't mean to sit at home like that, my dear?"

"Of course not. Really, Frank, if you paid any attention to matters of your soul, you'd know that it isn't our Mr. Johnson tonight."

"Oh? I must've missed the notice."

"You ought to come, you know."

"Lu—"

"Well, you ought to," she declared positively. "You haven't set foot in church since last Easter."

"And Johnson talked for two solid hours," he reminded her.

"Probably because he knew it was his only opportunity to instill any godliness in half the men there. I know at least ten of them had never been before."

"And after that sermon they haven't been back since."

"No. Really, you'd like tonight's preacher—he's from the Baptist Speaker's Bureau in Little Rock. He's from home, Frank."

"Christmas and Easter, Lu, that's all I promised you."

"Yes, I know, but—"

"No buts," he said, interrupting her. "You look after your soul, and I'll look after mine."

"Well, you cannot stay home. I mean—" She cast a significant look toward Annie. "Well, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. I fail to see what Mrs. Bryce has to do with my going to church, my dear."

"Frank!"

"Well, I don't. If you want to drag somebody with you, why don't you take her?"

The woman reddened, and the expression on her face looked as though she'd just sucked on a persimmon. "Really, Frank, I don't think that would be at all wise," she said tightly. "But as I don't have all evening to sit here and argue with you, I shall just go by myself—as usual, of course."

"I still don't see—"

"Well, I do. Why don't you pass the meat plate to Mrs. Bryce? Maybe after supper you can go over to Major Hammond's. I understand there's a card game there, and I'm sure it will be more suited to your tastes, anyway."

"He's already got a full table."

"Oh. Well, I was just thinking of you, of course," she murmured through thinly drawn lips. "I'm sure Mrs. Bryce will wish to go to her room, and I hate to leave you alone here."

Her meaning wasn't lost on Annie. The woman obviously expected her to throw herself at Davis the instant she was alone with him—or vice versa. "Actually," she spoke up, "I would like to go to church, Mrs. Davis."

"Tell her it's out of the question, Frank."

"I don't see why."

"Well," Lulene floundered, trying to think of a reason, then declared, "well, the seats are by subscription."

"To a church meeting?" he asked incredulously.

"I told you, he's a guest speaker," she responded peevishly. "Now, will you please let it go by?"

"Then let her have my seat. If I've paid for it, I ought to be able to give it away."

"It doesn't work that way, Frank. Besides, I'm sure since Mrs. Bryce knows no one here, she'd be uncomfortable. She probably isn't even a Baptist. Now, are you going to pass the meat, or shall I reach across the table for it?"

"Actually, I
am
a Baptist, Mrs. Davis," Annie admitted.

Lulene's expression was pained. Appealing to her husband, she said, "Surely you can see why it wouldn't be appropriate, Frank." Picking up the platter, she thrust it toward Annie. "Here, do take some roast so that we may get on with eating. I really don't have much time tonight."

"Before you go, you ought to take out your Bible and read out of John—I think it's in chapter eight," Frank said, addressing his wife.

"What?"

"Excuse me," he murmured to Annie, rising. When he came back, he had the book opened in his hand. Leaning over Lulene, he placed it in front of her. "Read verse seven, my dear."

She looked down, then flushed angrily. "It's not the same thing," she snapped.

"No, it's not. At least you realize that," he muttered, taking his seat again as she quickly closed the Bible. "But you cannot just pick what you want to believe and leave out the rest, can you?"

Furious with him, Lulene stood up. "I don't need a lecture from—from an unbeliever, Frank! I'm not the one who doesn't go to church!" With that, she stalked from the table.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before he looked at Annie. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bryce, truly sorry. If I'd known it was going to be like this, I'd have asked the colonel to ask someone else. I guess Lu doesn't realize it could happen to her out here."

"Yes. Well, I'm quite sorry also, but I cannot say it was totally unexpected. I grew up in Texas, you know. I know how people feel."

"But when I made the offer to Captain Walker, I didn't think she'd act anything like this, ma'am."

"It's all right, Lieutenant." Reaching across the table, she retrieved his Bible. As she opened it, the front door to the house slammed, telling her Lulene had left. She thumbed the pages until she found the book of John, then the chapter he'd mentioned. Following her finger down the page, she found the passage where Jesus was asked about punishing the woman taken in adultery.

So when they continued asking him, he lifted himself up and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her.

Blinking back tears, she looked up at him. "Thank you, sir."

"And I meant it when I said it wasn't the same thing," he said quietly. "Adultery is hardly the word for what happened."

She made up her mind then. "I'm not very hungry, Lieutenant. If you'll excuse me—"

"No need to go to your room on my account, Mrs. Bryce. I was sort of thinking about going out to the cantina myself," he admitted sheepishly. "I figure I've got a good, stiff drink coming to me."

"I wasn't planning on going to my room, sir." Her eyes met his again. "I'm going to church. I'm just as much a Baptist as anyone else. What time does the Wednesday service start?" Seven.

"I should have plenty of time to get ready."

He watched her leave, then sat for a time, staring at his Bible, wondering if he'd done right by encouraging her to go. Finally, he pushed his untouched plate back and went to fetch his coat. If he found Walker at the cantina, he was going to tell him it wasn't fair to her to make her stay with Lulene. He was just damned sorry any of it had happened.

A soldier stood outside the chapel, ringing what looked like a dinner bell, as a line of worshipers filed by him. While there were more women than men, there was a goodly sprinkling of blue coats in the small crowd.

" 'Evening, major. Ma'am. 'Evening, sir. Ma'am," the fellow called out as people passed.

Annie forced a smile. "Good evening," she said politely. "Are the pews assigned?"

"No, ma'am, the first as gets in gets the seats," he assured her. Then, peering more closely at her, he seemed surprised. "Say, you're the Bryce woman, ain't you?"

"I'm Mrs. Bryce," she acknowledged.

Once inside, she took a printed program from a prim-looking female by the door, then made her way to the back pew. Taking a place beside three other women, she bowed her head and closed her eyes to pray for Susannah's return. When she looked up, the three ladies had moved away from her, all of them sitting quite close to each other, leaving a space of several feet between them and her. It was hard to miss the message.

Pretending indifference, she looked around the chapel, taking in the lanterns lit at the end of every pew. Unlike the women, they were warm and inviting. Leaning forward, she retrieved a hymnal and opened it, turning the pages, seeing the familiar songs of faith and praise. She'd played most of them on her piano.

What one was it that Hap Walker liked? "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God." Yes, it was in there. And all the Christmas carols. He wanted her to play them for him, too.

As she looked up again, people in the rows in front of her quickly turned around. The woman closest to her opened a filigree watch case with gloved hands, and Annie caught the time. Six minutes to seven. She had another six minutes to sit there in silence while the curious stared at her.

Outside, Hap Walker crossed the open area between cantina and fort, limping and cursing under his breath. He'd been peaceably playing cards and drinking decent whiskey when Frank Davis had told him about Lulene's behavior to Annie. Blast the woman—no, blast both of them. He was leaving a winning hand to go to church.

" 'Evening, sir," the soldier told him, adding, "You'll have to check your gun at the door."

"Like hell," Hap muttered.

By the time the startled bell ringer recovered, Hap was already inside. Recalling where he was, he paused to smooth his hair, then looked around. She was there, all right, sitting by herself in the back row, while those three hens crowded against each other down at the end. That was one thing he'd never understood about women—there didn't seem to be much sisterhood between them. Resigned, he went to her side of the pew.

"Move over," he said tersely.

"What are you doing here, Hap?" she whispered.

"I came to sing."

"Oh." She slid over to make room for him. "I thought you said you couldn't."

"Couldn't what?"

"Sing."

"I can't," he muttered.

She could smell the liquor on his breath, but he didn't seem drunk. It didn't matter, she decided. She was extremely grateful to see him.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Yeah."

There was a stirring among the small congregation, and then a woman moved to take a seat at the piano. A man in a black frock coat stepped forward to the lectern to announce, "Number one forty-two, folks, all verses."

As Annie opened the hymnal, Hap leaned over for a look. "Never heard of it," he declared, disappointed.