Part 4 (2/2)
”Miss. Stuart?” It was Sergeant Monahan. ”Yes?” She almost shouted the word.
He was at the rear of the wagon, smiling.
”Wasn't that just the prettiest little brook you've ever seen?”
”Absolutely beautiful,” she said evenly. But it didn't matter--apparently word of the shots had gotten out.
Another one of the men stepped behind Monahan, nodding respectfully to her.
”Monahan! Hardy says she almost got it from a moccasin. Luckily the lieutenant was near and blasted the thing to kingdom come. Ma'am, it is the prettiest little brook around, but you be careful from here on out, you hear?
You've become pretty important to all of us.”
”Thank you, that's very kind,” she murmured, but she knew that she was blus.h.i.+ng again. Everyone knew what had happened.
But they didn't really know. They didn't know what it had felt like when his eyes had touched her naked flesh. ”Rations aren't much, ma'am, but one of the boys brought in a few trout. May I fix you a plate and bring you some coffee?” Monaban asked her.
”Please,” she agreed.
”That would be very nice.” Monaban brought her a plate of food, the other young man brought her coffee. She thanked them both. Then, as she ate, it seemed that every man in the company came by to see how she was, if she would like anything, if she needed anything, anything at all, for the night.
She thanked them all, and when they left, and the darkness fell, and the camp became silent, she smiled. They were Yanks, but a good group of them. Maybe there was hope. She believed again. There were von Heusens in the world, but there were others, too, good people. She just had to keep fighting. She had to hold on to the ranch and she had to keep the Wilts.h.i.+re newspaper going.
”Miss. Stuart.”
She started, feeling every nerve within her body come alive. She knew the voice. Knew the deep tone, low and husky and somehow capable of slipping beneath her skin. It was a sensual, s.e.xy voice, and it awakened things in her she was certain had died beneath the rifle fire of the last years of the war, She inhaled quickly. If she was silent, he might just walk away. He might believe that she slept and just walk away.
But he wouldn't. He knew she was awake. She sensed it, and she resented him for his easy knowledge of her.
”Yes?” she asked crisply.
”I just wanted to make sure that you were all right.”
”I'm fine, Lieutenant.”
”Is there anything you need?”
”I want you to believe me, Lieutenant. And you're not offering me that.”
He was silent. She hoped he would turn away, but she sensed he was smiling.
”You didn't thank me. For saving your life.”
”Ah, yes. Thank you for saving my life.” She found herself crawling the length of the bunk, then defying him over the rear edge of the wagon.
”Lieutenant?”
”yes?”
”Come closer, please.”
He took a step nearer. Tess let her hand fly across his cheek. He instantly caught her wrist, and she was glad of the surprised and furious fire in his eyes as they caught hers. She kept smiling, even if his fingers did seem to be a vise around her, even if the air seemed charged with electricity. Even if she was just a little bit afraid that he was going to drag her out of the wagon and down beneath him into the dirt.
”I do thank you for saving my life, Lieutenant. But that was for the ungentlemanly way in which you did so.”
She pulled on her hand. He didn't let go. His eyes glittered silver in the moonlight.
I'll try to remember, Miss. Stuart, that you are most particular about the way a man goes about saving your life,” he told her.
”You know exactly what I'm saying.”
”I never meant to give you offense.”
”Never?”
”I do swear so, Miss. Stuart. I kept my presence quiet because you were as bare as a baby before I realized it. And then, well, I do admit, I was caught rather speechless.”
”You weren't speechless on the rock!”
He smiled slowly.
”No.”
”Oh, you ... Yank!”
She tugged on her wrist again. He didn't release her at first, then his fingers slowly unwound. He was smiling, she realized. And his eyes fell over her again, and she felt as if he was burning the sight of her into his memory. A flame shot high within her, and she didn't know if she was horrified-or fascinated.
”Good night, Miss. Stuart,” he said softly. Then he did walk away. She didn't move, and after a moment he turned back.
”Miss. Stuart?”
”What?”
He hesitated.
”You're a very beautiful woman. Very beautiful.”
He didn't wait for an answer. He walked away and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Three.
Two days later, they reached the fort.
It was, Tess thought, a typical military fort in Indian country. The walls of the stockade were high, maybe twenty-five feet high, and built of dark st.u.r.dy logs. She heard the sound of a bugle while they were still some distance from the fort, then the huge wooden gate swung open to allow their party to enter. Looking up as they went into the compound, Tess saw armed guards in their cavalry blue lined up on all the catwalks and staring down at them.
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