The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1) (17 page)

~Chapter Nineteen~

Allison lay paralyzed as Wes finished with his shirt and left the room.

Why was he so upset?
She
should be the one upset. She was offering her virtue to a man she couldn’t have, even knowing full well that they could never be together. And yet, it was he who acted as if he were the one of the pair having his heart crushed by a thousand-pound boulder.

She had no illusion that she could stay. She had nothing to offer him except her body, which given enough time, he’d probably tire of and wish he’d married a woman who could at least cook and sew.

A painful knot formed in her throat, choking her, and blinding tears stung her eyes.

How could she have ever believed everything between them would be simple?

Because Wes was a man. One who didn’t seem to truly need her, at that.

She rolled onto her side and reached for the top edge of the blanket, then jerked it free from the underside of the mattress where Wes had tucked it so tightly when he’d made the bed. She pulled the blanket over her and brought her knees up toward her chest as sobs wracked her body.

She’d ruined everything.

Wes thought her the lowest kind of woman. Not that she could blame him. In her moment of weakness, she’d abandoned all reason and logic, allowing her heart to make her decisions. Ones she knew full well she could never fully honor. All she could give him was her innocence and her love. That’s all that was safe to give. For if she stayed, how would he not grow to resent her when he had no choice but to pay other ladies to make her dresses or take her around in unfashionable rags?

What of their meals? His were included as part of his salary; hers were not. He hadn’t been unkind enough to directly say anything to her about the amount she was costing him by not eating her portions and making him eat them. But he didn’t have to. His light-hearted jests about her wasting had been enough of a reminder.

She remembered that he received a decent salary, She also remembered that he’d pulled a considerable amount of money out from his bedposts when they’d first married, but eventually, he’d run out of funds. Then what? He might not be so heartless as to ridicule her for her role in driving them to poverty, but they’d both know it was her and, what he considered to be, her wastefulness that had bankrupted them.

Not that any of that really mattered. In time, hopefully before they ended up living under a tree somewhere, she could learn to cook and sew. Perhaps not as well as most women, but well enough to get by. But what of the other debt? The one she’d owe Nicholas for breaking their contract. He and her father had been business partners and somewhere along the way, she’d been thrown into their business arrangements. Her hand in marriage as compensation for something. If she broke the arrangement, she’d owe Nicholas money. Money that neither she nor Wes could ever have.

She squeezed her eyes shut; but it didn’t hold in the tears as she’d hoped and they began to spill from her eyes in two steady, salty currents.

No, it was better this way.

It had to be, for it was the only way.

“Allison?”

Allison jerked at the sound of her name on Wes’ lips. She blinked her eyes open, which was hard to do, considering they were practically pasted closed from all the tears she’d shed.

The room was completely dark now except for the small flame that topped the candle Wes held. She moved to sit up and clear her thoughts, but remembered she was naked and decided instead to pull the blanket closer to her.

“
If you’d be kind enough to excuse yourself for a moment, I’ll dress, and then we can go to bed.” She knew it was childish to be so modest after she’d practically thrown herself at him earlier, but now it was different. Then, she’d felt excited by his touch and so helplessly in love and now she felt like a fool.

“
Your clothes are still wet,” he murmured.

Allison pulled her blanket closer to her. “I don’t mind if they’re damp. I just need a moment or two to put them on, please?”

Wes brushed away the hair that had fallen over her forehead with his long fingers. “They’re not just damp, Allison. They’ve been sitting in a pile all afternoon with no chance to dry.” He placed the candle on the nearby table and removed his shirt. “It’ll be far too big, but at least it’s dry.” He set it down next to her, then walked to the end of the bed and started picking up her sodden clothes. Without a word or even a glance in her direction, he started spreading her clothes out to dry by the fire.

Apparently this was as much privacy as he was going to allow her.

Swallowing her pride, she sat up and quickly donned his shirt, then adjusted the blankets and fell back against her pillow.

She stared up at what she could see of the wooden support beams overhead, waiting.

What would he say when he joined her?

Or would he join her?

That was absurd. He had to join her. There wasn’t any other choice unless he planned to sleep on the floor—which she highly doubted he’d choose to do.

She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm her anxiousness.

A moment or so later, the mattress dipped.

Allison steeled her spine and waited for him to say something to her.

But he didn’t.

He just lay there next to her, his breathing just as deep and even as hers—hypnotizing almost.

Sleep threatened to overtake her once more, but just before she fell into that comforting abyss, a warm hand closed around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

~Chapter Twenty~

“
Wes?”

Allison wasn’t sure if she’d actually spoken his name aloud or if she just thought she had.

“Yes?”

Allison sat up in the bed and blinked her eyes to let them adjust to the very low light that was filling the room. “Did I oversleep?” she asked.

“No. I like to get up early when I can and go for a ride. I didn’t mean to wake you, just go back to sleep.”

“
Wes, I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. I—”

He pressed his finger against her lips to stop her words. “Say no more. I think we both said things without thinking of how they’d be interpreted.”

Frowning, Allison pulled his hand away. If he thought to imply that she’d spoken irrationally or without thought and would change her mind, it would be best to make herself clear right now. “Wes, while I’m hoping that was your way of apologizing for calling me a whore, that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to say.”

“
Then why don’t you come for a ride with me and explain?”

Temporary paralysis took hold of Allison again. Even after everything that had happened and all they’d said to each other yesterday, he still wanted to spend time with her?

***

Wes held his breath in anticipation. He hadn’t meant to invite her to ride with him. He still needed time to think of what he’d do next. To his mind, he still had almost two full weeks before the arrival of Mr. Perfect and Wealthy.

“A-all right. I’ll go.”

He was just about to reach for her clothes when her gasp rent the air and made him freeze.

“Where did that come from?”

Wes’ eyes flew to the leather pouch he’d found. Swallowing, he said. “I found it.” That was true enough.

She nodded mutely. “Where.”

“
On the ground.”

She didn’t say anything about his evasive sarcasm, just stared at him and swallowed uncomfortably. “How long have you had it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. A while.”

“
Did you...um...did you read what was in there?”

Relieved she hadn’t pressed him for more details on how he found it, he shook his head. “No. Not really.”

“Not really?”

He shrugged. “I read two lines of one and had to stop reading before I got a stomachache from all of Nicholas’ sugary sweetness.”

Her face blushed. A beautiful sight to behold; how unfortunate it was because he’d mentioned her former suitor.

“
You can reread them all when we get back. But if you wish to go with me, you’ll need to dress now.” He picked up her clothes and laid them on the bed next to her. “Do you need any help?”

“
No,” she said with an audible swallow. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Wes sank into a dining chair and crossed his ankles to wait while she got herself ready.

“All right, I’m dressed,” she informed him a few minutes later.

Wes pushed to his feet and led her down to the stables. “This, is Midnight.” He ran his hand down the stallion’s thick, black mane.

Allison copied the gesture. “His hair is so soft.”

Wes grunted his agreement, then led Midnight from his stall. “Are you ready to mount?”

Allison dropped her hand and cast a pointed look at Midnight’s back. “I’m ready, but is he?”

“
We’ll have to ride him bareback,” Wes explained. “The saddle isn’t large enough for both of us.”

“
Do you not want me to come?”

Wes was caught off-guard by her question and tensed. “What makes you think that?”

“You just missed two opportunities to make a jest.”

“
I did?”

“
Yes,” she said in a voice that sounded hard and forced. “You asked if I was ready to mount.”

“
And?”

“
The Wes I met here last week, and even spent time in the company of up until yesterday afternoon, would have added a sarcastic remark on the end of that, such as, ‘or do you intend to keep checking Midnight’s mane for tangles?’.”

“
So because I didn’t ask if you were done running your fingers through Midnight’s mane, you’ve drawn the conclusion I don’t want you to be here?” he asked flatly.

“
Well, there’s that. But then you said we’d have to ride bareback because the saddle wasn’t big enough to hold the two of us.”

“
And what did you expect me to say?”

She gave an overdone sigh as if she were genuinely uncomfortable but didn’t want him to know. “I half-expected you to follow that statement with a remark about how you could saddle him up for me, but only if I intended to sit on your lap.”

“And do you?”

“
Do I what?”

“
Want to sit directly on my lap?”

“
No,” she blurted. “Please forget I said anything.”

Wes frowned at her. “I don’t think that’s possible. You did just suggest that you’d like to ride Midnight perched upon my lap. How could I possibly forget that?”

“I only said that because— Just forget it.”

Wes bit back his grin. He hadn’t intended to frustrate her, but now that he had... She’d been right though. He likely would have said those very things—or something even more shocking to her—had things been different yesterday and he not so distracted thinking about her and their current situation.

As it was, he didn’t know where he stood or how to fix it.

He gulped down the uncertainty that threatened to choke him and helped Allison onto the horse. He handed her the reins so she’d have something to hold on to, then closed his fingers around Midnight’s bridle and led him from the stable.

The sun wasn’t hidden as far behind the clouds as it normally was when he began his ride. That was all right; they just wouldn’t ride as far.

They cleared the barracks and Wes swung up onto Midnight’s back. He reached around Allison for the reins and guided Midnight in the usual direction he liked to go, then nudged him to go a little faster.

Midnight lurched forward, causing Allison to nearly lose her balance and fall against him.

“
Sorry,” she murmured, attempting to straighten.

Unfortunately, her movements resulted in her rubbing her soft backside directly against his groin.

“Stop that,” he practically snapped, placing a staying hand on her waist.

“
I’m just trying to sit up,” she argued. “How was I to know you were going to make the horse run before I was ready?”

He supposed she didn’t. “Place your hands on my thighs and use them for leverage if you must readjust.”

She did just as he’d suggested, only furthering his torment, because now not only was her bottom
still
rubbing against him, but she was also squeezing his upper thighs. Next time, he’d make it clear he meant for her to grip his knees.

Eventually, she regained her former position—the one where she sat straight up and thrust her perfumed hair just inches in front of his nose. When the hell had she had time to perfume herself?

“I wasn’t trying to tease you, Wes,” she said a moment later.

Wes momentarily tightened his hold on the reins. “I know that.”

“Do you?”

“
Of course. A fancy lady like yourself wouldn’t know anything about how to excite a man while pretending to get more comfortable on his horse.”

Based on what he could see of the muscles in Allison’s neck in the low sunlight, he believed she’d stiffened. “That’s not what I intended. I didn’t even know I was doing that.”

A small wave of shame came over him. She’d always been very genuine in her actions toward him, even if it meant saying things to him that he never believed she’d say. To accuse her of something so vulgar and untrue wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t a very fair accusation for me to make.”

“
It’s all right,” she said with a stiff shrug. “It’s no less than I deserve after abandoning my morals and throwing myself at you yesterday, I suppose.”

“
Is that how you see it? Throwing yourself at me?”

Silence, broken only by a distant bird singing its morning song, was her only answer.

Wes slowed Midnight to a trot. “Allison?”

“
I would have gone through with it,” she said in a broken whisper.

“
I know that.” But it wasn’t about her fulfilling the unspoken promise they’d made to each other when their kiss had become more than just a kiss and he’d begun undressing her. It was about the promise she didn’t intend to fulfill—the one far more valuable to him than just having her yesterday.

“
Wes, I love you.”

Those soft words hit him harder than a cannonball. “Then why do you insist on doing so from afar while sharing another man’s bed?”

Allison sucked in a harsh breath. “Would you please take me back to the barracks?”

“
No. Would you please answer my question?”

“
No.”

“
Shall we play a game?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I’ll go first. Is the reason you want to marry Nicholas because he’s better at rounders than I am?”

She didn’t answer, so he lifted his knee and nudged the side of her soft bottom. “N-no,” she said with a little squeal of surprise.

“Is it that he’s more handsome than me?”

“
No.”

“
Charming?”

“
No,” she said with a sputter of laughter. “Nobody could compare to you in that regard, Wes.”

He was flattered, but not deterred. “Is it because he’s more refined than me?”

She sighed. “No.”

“
Wealthier?”

She hesitated. “No.”

Wes’ gut clenched at her tone. Tightening his hold on the reins, he steered Midnight back toward the barracks.

“
Is it my turn now?”

Wes ignored her and nudged Midnight to go faster. He’d gone back to their room last night with the hope that Gray had been right and her preoccupation with wealth had merely been his perception. Now he knew otherwise. It wasn’t enough to make him completely give up on her. He loved her too much to just walk away now, but it did not make him eager to spend another minute in her presence right now. He had to find a way, without resorting to his inheritance, to convince her to abandon her infatuation with her former suitor. And if she didn’t, then all would be lost. His heart constricted at the painful reality that was likely to become his own. He still had time, he reminded himself, as he nudged the horse forward.

“Wes, must we ride so fast?” she asked, her hands fruitlessly groping for purchase on his thighs.

He gritted his teeth. Then suddenly, she gripped the section of reins in front of her and pulled Midnight to an abrupt stop, leading his jaw to collide with the back of her head in the most painful way.

“That was not a good idea, Allison,” he barked; he instinctively moved his fingertips to his lips to check for bleeding, then to his jaw to see if it was swelling.

“
I had to do
something
,” she cried. “You weren’t listening to me.”

“
I heard you just fine,” he bit off, then licked his lips. “I chose not to answer.”

“
Why is it that you get the choice not to answer my questions, but I have to answer yours?”

He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see the gesture with her back to him. “Perhaps because I’ve already found out enough about you to know that anything I might say in answer to your questions won’t change anything between us.”

“And how did you reach this conclusion?”

“
Because your answers told me so.”

“
I said no to everything you asked,” she burst out.

“
But you didn’t mean it.”

“
Didn’t mean what?” She made a sound of aggravation, and before he could react, she threw her left leg over Midnight’s head, then tumbled to the ground in the most undignified heap.

Wes was off the horse in a second. “Are you all right?” He reached for her, only to be swatted at.

“I’m fine,” she hissed, refusing his offer of help. She got up and dusted off her skirt, then folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t like being made to talk to someone who I can’t see.”

“
Then you should have asked me to help you off the horse.”

“
Oh, and would you have helped me down the same way you’d have returned me to the barracks when I asked or responded to me when I asked you a question?”

“
That’s different.”