The Officer and the Traveler (9 page)

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Authors: Rose Gordon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Military, #Westerns

BOOK: The Officer and the Traveler
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What fate?” Michaela asked. Had she missed something?
 


One almost as bad as death,” Ella murmured. She unfolded the dress she was working on. “Around the time I arrived I was bitten by a spider. One so venomous that it made me sick.”
 


Not just sick,” Aunt Lucille added when it seemed Ella was finished with her inadequate explanation. “It made her delirious.”
 


And those were the better ailments,” Allison said. She lifted her needle and stabbed it into the orange and brown fabric she was edging. “You should have seen—
and smelled
—the spot on her leg that was infected.”
 


Surely it wasn’t that bad,” Ella said as she dug through her basket.
 


How would you know?” Allison retorted, not unkindly. “You were the one fortunate enough to be sleeping when it had to be cleaned.”
 

Michaela bit back a smile at the exchange. If she didn’t know any better, Allison could have truly been a sister to the two of them with her gentle teasing. “But you’re better now,” Michaela confirmed.


Yes. Much.” Ella pulled out a little square of red silk and tossed it to Michaela. “Here. You might not like to sew, but you can at least make your own nightgown.”
 

Michaela felt her eyes widen. There wasn’t anything on this planet that could tempt her to sew a nightgown out of such a bold color of meager fabric.

Aunt Lucile’s chuckle filled the room. “Don’t worry, dearie, you won’t have to wear it very long. Gray’ll have it off of you before you realize it.”

 

 

 

~Chapter Eight~

 

 

Usually the morning after a night doing a post in the watchtower, Gray was ready to crawl in bed and sleep well into the afternoon.

Not today.

After General Davis had left him alone, he’d had nothing but time to think. And that was a scary prospect for a man who’d just been accused of rape and acquired a fiancé all within the past twelve hours.


How did she know it was an officer?” Gray burst out by way of greeting when General Ridgely emerged from his home.
 


He rode in on a horse.”
 

Gray crossed his arms. “She said that?”


Well, no, but he had to have. The Cherokee camp is too far from here to have reached them by foot, accost the girl and make it back before daybreak to resume his duties. He had to have ridden a horse.”
 

Of course he did. Besides just being a fair distance from the Cherokees wasn’t the only reason a man would take a horse. If he got caught, he’d need a horse to make a quick escape. Even with a horse it wasn’t entirely possible to flee. Those men—and women—were extremely skilled with their weapons. “Just because he rode a horse doesn’t mean he was an officer,” Gray pointed out.

General Ridgely pursed his lips. “Are you saying that anyone else at this fort has access to the horses other than the officers?”


It’s possible that the horse was stolen,” Gray said evasively.
 


And who in the hell is stupid enough to steal a horse?”
 


The same kind of man who is stupid enough to accost an Indian chief’s daughter.”
 

Grumbling, General Ridgely walked off.

Gray considered going after him to argue his case more, but now wasn’t the time. The man clearly had no interest in listening to reason.

In the distance, he saw Wes as he commanded his men and Gray’s in drills, one of which was highly unusual. It almost looked as if they were all marching, then turning to form two lines that faced one another. Then they each lifted their swords, forming a tunnel. Gray groaned. That had to be the work of one person: General Davis.

There was no use in denying it, whether Michaela wanted it or not, she was about to have a very highfalutin wedding.

He shook his head and walked toward his room. Tonight he’d move upstairs to a private room he’d only have to share with one person: his wife. His pulse picked up at the thought. His father-in-law might not be a person he aspired to get to know better, but his wife might be.


Halt there, Captain Montgomery.”
 

Gray stilled and turned around to see Colonel Lewis behind him. He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he noticed that General Davis wasn’t with him. “Yes, sir?”

The colonel scratched his jaw. “I was wondering about something you said last night.”

Unease settled in Gray’s stomach. “Yes, sir?”


What makes you certain?”
 


That I didn’t rape that girl?” Gray asked flatly.
 


No. Even I know that.” He waved a hand through the air. “How do you surmise that she’s pregnant?”
 

Gray forced a shrug. “Instinct I suppose.”


Instinct?”
 


The way her arms crossed with her hands over her stomach.”
 


Hmmm.” He nodded once then slapped Gray on the shoulder. “I’m not sure I believe that, but all right. Rest up. You wouldn’t want to actually sleep on your wedding night, would you?”
 

***

If the clock could move any slower, Michaela would truly be surprised. Though the timepiece mounted on the Ridgely’s mantle said only five hours had passed, it had felt like an eternity to Michaela.


Perhaps some tea will calm your nerves,” Aunt Lucille offered, lowering a pot of water onto the fire. “I was a ball of jitters on my wedding day, too. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
 


Yes, I’m sure it will,” Michaela murmured offhandedly. There was no way that tomorrow could possibly be better. Only worse. She shot another glance at the clock. In ten minutes it would be time for lunch and with any luck, Gray would join Wes and Jack, the smitten officers, and come join her for lunch. Perhaps then they could talk.
 

Unfortunately, lunchtime only confirmed what she already knew: Gray was anything but smitten with her. Wes arrived first, followed a few minutes later by Jack. Both immediately went to their wives for a hug and kiss, which they gladly gave.

Michaela’s heart constricted. At least Ella had made a good match. If nothing else, she could forever be thankful for that.


What has both of you fellows looking like you’ve just been to war against the redcoats?” Aunt Lucille asked. When they both furrowed their brows, she flicked her wrist. “Never mind. That might have been a little before your time.”
 


Well,” Jack drawled, accepting a glass of water from his wife.  “If you’re asking what has us both looking as if we’ve just been run over with a team of four, I’d say he masquerades around under the name of General Davis.” He shook his head. “This fancy wedding he’s planning has made me extremely grateful that Ella defied him and agreed to come be my wife as a mail-order bride.”
 

Michaela grinned and Wes shuddered. “I’m just glad I don’t have to spend holidays with the man.”

Jack groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “As I said, I’m grateful I got away with a small wedding.”


Small wedding?” Ella echoed. “Surely you wouldn’t refer to ours as a small wedding. More like nonexistent.”
 


Perhaps if it wasn’t as grand as you’d have liked, the two of you can take mine and Gray’s place this afternoon?” Michaela suggested with an overdone smile.
 


Oh, no. We’ve had our wedding, this one is for you.” Ella set a sandwich on her plate and brought it to her husband.
 

Jack took the plate from Ella and whispered something in her ear, the only words of which Michaela could understand were “wedding night”. Ella flushed and turned back to Michaela, but couldn’t meet her eye. “It won’t be so bad. Gray is an honorable man.”

Michaela cocked her head to the side to stare at her sister. Did Ella even remember the boy known only as Grayson, who wasn’t really Colonel Jones’ son, but not really old enough to be in the army, either? More of an errand boy who was made to clean up after the soldiers or fetch them things they wanted. Michaela had once asked Pa why he’d come to the fort, and had been given a firm answer to never mention his presence again. Being a girl of fifteen, Pa’s reluctance to speak any more about it, had only stoked her interest and led her to spy on him or position herself in situations where she could try to talk to him. Ella, however, was too enthralled with wildflowers and mud pies to notice his existence.


I agree,” Jack chimed in. “He’s an honorable sort, Michaela. I think he’ll make you a fine husband.”
 

Michaela suddenly felt like the world was caving in around her as she looked at everyone in the room. They all seemed to be nodding in agreement. How odd. Just yesterday, it was Jack who seemed to be offering her his remorse over her being kissed by the man and now he seemed to be a champion for the match?


Dare I ask just where is this man who everyone thinks will be a wonderful husband?”
 


In bed,” Wes said. Then his blue eyes doubled in size and he choked. “Alone.”
 


I think you’re only making it worse, Wes,” Allison said with a smile. She handed a plate to Wes then took her seat next to him. “Last night was Gray’s night in the watchtower so he’s probably still sleeping.”
 


If you’d like to see him, we can escort you over there to his room,” Jack offered.
 


He might be ready for a reprieve from your father,” Wes added.
 


Oh, now, Sam’s not that bad,” Aunt Lucille chastised, pouring each of the men a cup of coffee.
 


It’s quite obvious you haven’t spent as much time in Pa’s presence as we have,” Michaela said, standing to help serve lunch. “The past fifteen years have changed him remarkably.”
 

Aunt Lucille smiled sadly. “You and your sister have both changed a lot, too.” Her smile grew. “Why I didn’t even recognize Ella when she first came. Not that I had half a chance since Jack kept her sequestered for the first week.”

Jack threw his hands into the air. “What can I say? When a man has a wife as fine as mine, he doesn’t wish to share.”


All right, that’s enough of that. We’re all about to eat,” Wes said, eliciting a giggle from the women.
 


Sequestered, you say?” She looked at Ella to elaborate.
 


Not exactly sequestered,” Ella said lightly. “More like...separated.”
 

Michaela brought her cup of tea to her lips. Was her sister still a blushing bride? Oh, of course she was, she’d only been married a matter of days, two weeks at best. “I see...”


Oh, for the love of pistols,” Wes broke out. “It wasn’t nearly as romantic as you all make it sound.”
 


Indeed,” Jack agreed with a grimace. He took a bite of his sandwich and wiped his mouth. “I take it she didn’t inform you of how serious her illness was.”
 


Whose illness?” boomed her father.
 


Does the man ever knock?” Jack muttered under his breath.
 


Only when I think there might be a reason to,” Pa said with a pointed look at Jack and Ella who both colored. He made his way to where Aunt Lucille had been preparing lunch and made himself a plate. “Now, who was ill?”
 


No one,” Ella said quickly at the same time Allison said, “Mrs. Ridgely. She hasn’t been feeling
well all day.”
 

Everyone turned to look at the poor woman who was lying in her bed with the covers up to her chin.

Pa bit into his sandwich. “What’s wrong with her?”

Aunt Lucille shrugged. “She’s just not feeling well, Sam. Sometimes it happens.”


Just as long as it stays contained and doesn’t transfer to Michaela.”
 

Michaela closed her eyes so she wouldn’t roll them. “I hardly believe that if I became ill that you’d allow me to call off this sham of a wedding.”


Oh, it’s no sham, my girl. It’ll be happening and in high style.”
 


Yes, I’ve heard.” Michaela idly fingered the edges of her untouched sandwich. “Dare I ask how my groom feels about these arrangements?”
 


I’d offer to take you to him so you could ask him yourself, but last I heard he was in his room and a man’s room is not the proper place for an unmarried young lady.”
 

Had Michaela actually been drinking the tea Aunt Lucille had given her, her father would have been wearing it. In a matter of hours she was supposed to marry this particular man. What did it matter if he took her to see him early? It didn’t. His real reason was that he didn’t want her to try to dissuade Gray from going through with whatever foolish plan these two had formed; which was exactly what she wanted to do and with any luck Jack or Wes would take her to see him after lunch.

 

 

 

~Chapter Nine~

 

 

Gray sat on the end of his bed, turning his shako over in his hands. Was he doing the right thing?

Yes. You have no choice,
screamed the voice inside his head, overpowering another that pleaded with him in a broken whisper to consider his choice more carefully.
 

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