Читать книгу Oklahoma Bride - Carol Finch - Страница 10

“B ehave yourself,” Rafe demanded, though the flicker in his eyes indicated that he wasn’t averse to seeing a bit more feminine skin.

Karissa halted a few feet away from him and struck what she hoped was another irresistible pose. “My dear general, you know perfectly well that I have a penchant for misbehaving,” she said in the most seductive voice she could muster. “I have a proposition for you.”

She slid her hands up and over his massive shoulders and felt him tense beneath her fingertips. It gave her an odd sense of power and satisfaction to realize this distinguished military officer was leery yet exceptionally aware of her as a woman.

Damn, if she didn’t like knowing that he wasn’t sure what to expect from her next and that he was fascinated, in spite of himself.

“What kind of proposition?” he croaked. His eyes dipped to her bosom then he quickly jerked those rainstorm-colored eyes back to her smudged face.

“I think you know what I’m suggesting.” She glided her fingers through his raven hair then inclined her head toward his bed. “You won’t have a fight on your hands this time…provided you meet my terms.”

His dark brows snapped together as he stared down at her. “Am I to understand that you’re offering to sleep with me if I agree to release you in the morning?”

His disapproving frown threatened to rattle her composure. She had been certain that any man, even the commander, would succumb to his lusty desires when opportunity presented itself. Men rarely saw past the moment. She, on the other hand, was prepared to do whatever necessary for her release so she could secure her dream of a home in the newly established territory.

Wasn’t it just her luck that she had encountered a man who was apparently the exception to the rules she thought applied to all men?

Chin held high, she stepped back to look down her nose at him—even if he was a good foot taller than she was. “Oh, come now, General, surely you didn’t think I’d let you waltz in here and take me to bed without bartering for my freedom.”

He jerked back as if she had slapped him. “I have no intention of taking you to bed,” he declared.

“You didn’t put me under arrest in your room so you could take advantage of me?” Karissa smirked at him. “You really expect me to believe that? Just how stupid do I look?”

“You don’t look the least bit stupid. During our brawl in the creek, I discovered that you’re as wily as a fox. And I did expect you to believe that I was trying to show you a modicum of courtesy and consideration,” he snapped as he veered around her to gather fresh clothing from his trunk.

“I couldn’t very well put you in a stockade that is teeming with men. Therefore, I brought you here for your own protection. Though why I bothered, after that little performance, I’m sure I don’t know.” He did an abrupt about-face and glared at her. “I plan to bunk in Micah’s quarters for the night.”

Karissa’s jaw sagged in amazement. She had totally misinterpreted the commander’s intentions and she had come off looking like a trollop. Despite what he thought, she was the farthest thing from a woman who made her living on her back.

“I’m posting a guard outside the window and one outside the door,” he informed her briskly. “You’ll stay here until you promise me that you will not sneak back into the territory before the Run.”

“I promise,” she said swiftly. “May I leave now?”

Rafe halted beside her. A sardonic smile touched the corners of his sensuous mouth. “You might find this astonishing, but I don’t trust you.”

“I gave you my promise,” she sassed him. “That’s all you asked for.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him defiantly. “Some commander you are, General, if you change your mind every other minute.”

“Well, this decision stands,” he said with brusque finality. “You’ll be here indefinitely. It’s the only way to guarantee your safety and I can think of nothing worse than a woman so belligerent and contrary that she refuses to admit to her own vulnerability on the frontier. Furthermore, I want to be certain that you won’t break the law I’m sworn to uphold.”

Karissa scowled at him. “I’m finding that I like honorable men less than I like the dishonorable ones. It’s impossible to deal with men in general, General.”

“Stop calling me General and fasten your shirt,” he muttered at her. “Maybe when you start behaving like a lady I’ll reconsider.” He opened the door then shot her a stony stare. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to treat the injuries you inflicted on me. Sleep well, spitfire.”

“Karissa. My name is Karissa,” she said, striking a proud, dignified pose—just to prove to him she could be dignified if she felt like it. “Karissa Baxter from Kansas.”

“I will see that you have a supper tray delivered, Karissa from Kansas,” he replied in that aloof, authoritative tone that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. “Good night.”

When the door shut behind him, Karissa pulled a face. She definitely did not like that man. Too much spit and polish. Too much blue blood spurting through his veins. He obviously stuck to rules and regulations like flies stuck in molasses. If he had flown through life by the seat of his breeches, as she had, he would be considerably more sympathetic and understanding of her plight. But there was no sense wasting her breath, explaining her situation. Commander Rafe Hunter wouldn’t think of breaking his precious rules, much less bending one because of her.

Karissa flounced on the foot of the bed. If she gave a damn what that handsome soldier thought of her she would be depressed right now. But she didn’t have the time or inclination to wallow in unproductive emotions. She was on a crusade to insure her brother’s future in this new territory and she was spinning her wheels in house arrest.

She glanced speculatively toward the window and decided to make her escape after her supper had been delivered. She couldn’t plan her next move while her empty stomach was growling so loudly that she couldn’t think.

When a quiet rap rattled the door, Karissa pivoted and braced herself for another encounter with the fort commander. To her relief, Micah Whitfield poked his dark head around the door and smiled in greeting. His stunning blue eyes glistened with amusement as he directed her attention to the tray of food he carried in one hand.

“According to Rafe, a man can get his hand bitten off when he wanders too close to you. I brought supper so you will have something to chew on besides me.”

Karissa chuckled as Micah made a big production of cautiously circling around her to set the tray on the table. This brawny soldier, who was obviously of mixed heritage, had a knack of putting her at ease, even when she was conditioned to keeping up her guard around all men.

“You can relax, Captain,” she assured him as she walked over to pick up the slice of buttered bread. “I only bite and claw when physically attacked. You seem reasonably harmless.”

Micah laughed. “I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, but I have the reputation of being a hard-bitten, relentless scout and soldier.” He grinned teasingly and said, “Of course, thanks to you, Rafe is the one who’s hard-bitten.”

“Well, he tackled me and knocked me in the mud,” Karissa defended between bites. “What was I supposed to do? Thank him kindly for nearly drowning me and squishing me down in the slime?”

Micah ambled over to sit down in the chair—backward. He draped his muscled arms on the back of the chair and regarded her with blatant admiration. “Rafe might find you a bit unconventional, but I like your style. I always did admire a woman with pluck and gumption.”

Karissa sank down at the table to devour her meal. “And I’m cautious of men who are quick with compliments.” She eyed him with amused curiosity. “What do you want from me, Micah?” she said informally. “And do keep in mind that you won’t get it.”

He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “No small talk for you, I see. Just cut to the chase.” He nodded approvingly. “No wonder Rafe is having a hard time dealing with you. You’re nothing like the women he’s accustomed to.”

“The dainty and dignified types who bat their lashes and compliment his striking good looks and intelligence?” She sniffed in disgust.

“My sentiments exactly,” Micah agreed. “I’ve never trusted a woman who fawns and flatters. It means she wants something and that makes me suspicious. But then, I was raised in an Indian camp, not in the posh drawing rooms of the highest military echelon on the East Coast.”

“Like Rafe Hunter,” she presumed. “So what’s a man like him doing on this outpost of civilization? I suspect that he has the necessary connections to land a plum commission in someplace that’s safe, civilized and dignified.”

Micah shrugged. “He does and he could. Rafe graduated with high marks and honors from West Point. But he isn’t the type who is satisfied with taking the easy way out. We’ve faced hostile Apaches and Comanches together and he’s guarded my back while I guarded his. He likes the rigorous challenges of defending the country and protecting its honest citizens.”

A dyed-in-the-wool career army officer, Karissa mused. It was just her luck to be arrested by the gung-ho major.

“He’s damn good at his job,” Micah added. “He’s earned the respect of most of the soldiers under his command. Except for the lazy few who expend more effort trying to avoid work than carrying their share of the load. Rafe has a low tolerance for that type,” he added. “He never asks one of his men to do something he isn’t prepared to do himself. Despite his privileged background he isn’t afraid of hard work and he doesn’t shy away from trouble or tough decisions.”

“Enough on that dull topic,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “How long am I to be detained? I’m certain my brother and his wife are concerned about me. I would like to get word to them. Even better if I could reassure them in person.” She tossed Micah a meaningful glance.

“Does this imaginary brother know you were trespassing on the unopened territory?” Micah asked.

Karissa set down her fork and stared the ruggedly handsome half-breed squarely in the eye. “My brother and sister-in-law are very real. They are camped along the river, about five miles from this fort. At the very least I would like to relay the message that I’m alive and well. Of course, I would prefer to omit the part about being under arrest. No need to upset them, after all.”

Micah inclined his head agreeably. “I’ll see what I can do to reassure them, but I’m afraid Rafe has his rules about immediately releasing squatters who jumped the gun before the Land Run. You, my dear lady, have to accept the fact that you will be detained until Rafe decides to release you.”

Karissa’s shoulders slumped in frustration. While she was stuck at the garrison, someone else might sneak into the territory and stake the property that she had fallen in love with the moment she walked over the rolling hill and saw the lush countryside spread out before her. That wild, untamed land had called out to her as nothing else ever had. She could have sworn she heard home whispering in the gentle breeze.

“If I’m to be detained then I need something to occupy my time,” she insisted. “I’ll be climbing these walls if I have nothing to do. Can you arrange for me to become a laundress? Surely with so many soldiers about, I can earn wages by washing and cleaning.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Micah replied. “Rafe might, however. He doesn’t trust you not to break and run the first chance you get.”

Karissa glanced up when she noticed a shadow hovering outside the window. Ten feet away, the fort commandant loomed over her, watching her like an eagle-eyed predator. The man obviously trusted her so little that he volunteered to stand watch so she didn’t make a break for it via the window.

Out of pure spite, Karissa emulated the mannerisms of a gushing female by batting her eyes and waving enthusiastically at Rafe. Sure enough, he frowned skeptically at the sudden contradiction of her feisty temperament.

When Rafe disappeared from sight, Micah snickered. “As much as you seem to delight in antagonizing Rafe, that’s no way to gain his favor and respect.”

“I couldn’t care less about gaining his respect. The less contact we have with each other the better.” She glared at the resolute presence beyond the window then turned away to polish off her meal.

When the door swung open a few minutes later, Karissa glanced up to see His Truly towering over her. Instant but unwanted awareness sizzled through her. The mere sight of Rafe Hunter in his dress uniform—which boasted decorative gold braid and dozens of medals—was enough to take a woman’s breath away. Even a hopeless cynic’s like herself.

His dark hair had been recently washed and combed. His eyes gleamed like silver in the flickering lamplight. Standing tall, masculine and distinguished in his polished black boots, he truly was a sight to behold.

It was easy to understand why gently bred ladies from his social circle would consider him a prize catch. Yet, there was something about him that testified to the fact that the army was his life and that he took his duties very seriously. A woman could never compete with that single-minded devotion, she predicted.

However, Karissa thought with wry amusement, this distinguished officer—who practically radiated authority—chose to approach her while Micah was present. Karissa found small consolation in the knowledge that Rafe Hunter wasn’t sure how to handle her and was leery of being alone with her again.

Why was that? she wondered. Didn’t he trust her? Or didn’t he trust himself? Whatever the reason, this man wasn’t going to take her for granted the way she suspected he took other women for granted.

“Miss Baxter,” Rafe said in an overly polite tone, “one of the officers’ wives offered you decent clothing.” Stiffly, he thrust the dresses at her then shifted awkwardly. “As for the…um…feminine paraphernalia that goes beneath it, I won’t be able to provide that until the post trader’s store opens in the morning. As for proper shoes, that might take some time in acquiring. You’ll have to wear your cloddish boots.”

Difficult as it was to be gracious, Karissa rose from her chair to accept the dresses. “Thank you,” she murmured, uncomfortable with accepting charity. “I was just telling Captain Whitfield that I would like to occupy my time and earn wages by becoming a fort laundress.”

Rafe’s thick brows flattened over his narrowed eyes. “I think not. You’ll have to find something to occupy yourself in my room. Perhaps you can sew buttons back on uniforms and darn socks. But you will not be permitted to have the run of this garrison.”

Karissa hitched her chin in the air and defiantly strode over to the cot. She proceeded to jerk off the blanket and sheets. Holding Rafe’s fuming gaze, she dumped the bedding on the floor then made short shrift of transferring his personal belongings from his trunk to the floor.

Beside her, she heard Micah camouflage a chuckle behind a cough. She glanced over her shoulder to see him battling to keep a straight face—and failing miserably.

Rafe glared sabers at her. “Are you finished making your point, Miss Baxter?” he growled.

“Not quite.” Karissa knew she was sliding on the thin edge of his temper, but it was her nature to spit in the face of defeat. She made a beeline for the bookshelf that was lined with military manuals and dumped them, one by one, atop the bedding. “Now I’m finished and I’m bored again.”

Micah bounded from his chair, his eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. “I think I had better leave before the next skirmish starts. Don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire.”

“No, you’ll stay,” Rafe demanded without taking his eyes off Karissa.

“You definitely have to stay, Captain,” Karissa chimed in then flashed Rafe an impudent grin. “The General is afraid to be alone with me. Terrified, in fact.”

She almost cackled when he puffed up with so much indignation he nearly popped the brass buttons off his uniform.

“Given my position of authority here, there are a lot of people who are afraid to cross me.” He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “You should be one of them.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were God’s brother,” she sassed him.

Micah snickered, but he schooled his amused expression when Rafe shot him an irritated glance.

“Might I remind you, Miss Baxter,” Rafe said through clenched teeth, “that your other option here is to be jailed with the male prisoners in the stockade.”

Karissa shrugged carelessly. “I can take care of myself, General. And believe me, I have found myself in more harrowing situations than being thrust into a stockade with male prisoners.” Her green eyes sparkled with challenge. “Of course, if you wish to contend with a full-scale riot that voices objections to being crowded into unsanitary conditions that, no doubt, plague your stockade, then lead me to it.”

“I don’t think she’s spouting an empty threat, Rafe. It wouldn’t take much to incite the imprisoned settlers. Joan of Arc here looks all too eager to champion a rebellion,” Micah interjected. “However, we are short on laundresses at the moment and we could use her offered services. You can always put a guard on her so you can keep track of her constantly.”

Karissa graced Micah with her best smile. “Ah, a man who shows reason and common sense.” She turned back to the stony-faced commander. “I can understand why Captain Whitfield has been chosen as second in command to serve as your advisor, consultant and mentor.”

She waited, wondering if Rafe would relent, especially after she had purposely goaded him. He stood there so stiffly for so long that she almost gave up and resorted to taking the rest of his room apart and leaving it in shambles. Finally he blew out his breath and nodded curtly.

“Very well, Miss Baxter, you can begin your duties as laundress and housekeeper in the officers’ quarters first thing in the morning.” He glared at her again. “And you can start by undoing the damage to my room. I want this place to look exactly the way it did before you performed your whirling dervish act.”

She flashed him a mocking smile and noticed his jaw clenched in determined restraint. She suspected he would enjoy strangling her for maneuvering him into agreeing to her request. Well, tough. She would like to choke him for detaining her at the post.

“You are too kind, General,” she cooed pretentiously.

“For the last time,” he gritted out, “stop calling me General!”

When the door swung shut behind Rafe and Micah, Karissa half collapsed on the bed. Squaring off against Rafe Hunter was exhausting. She decided to postpone her escape attempt for a day. Besides, she could use the extra money and she would have the opportunity to familiarize herself with the daily routine at the fort. With money jingling in her pocket she could plan the perfect time to make her escape without drawing too much attention to herself. Then she would return to the property she hoped to claim for her brother and sister-in-law.

But this time, she vowed, she was going to be more watchful and attentive when the army patrol came hunting for illegal squatters. She would dig a hole and pull it in after her, if need be, but she was going to stake a claim on the land she had selected to be the Baxter homestead.

“You were a lot of help,” Rafe muttered to Micah a few minutes later at headquarters as they prepared the duty roster for the following day.

Micah took a seat beside Rafe to peruse the schedule. “Oh, come on, Rafe, you really can’t expect a woman with that much restless energy to sit in a room night and day indefinitely. We lost three laundresses whose husbands intend to participate in the Land Run, and we’re shorthanded. Plus, if you put a guard on Karissa she can’t get far.”

Rafe snorted irritably. “You haven’t scuffled with her. I have. She could be gone before a negligent guard realized it. That woman is too crafty and clever for her own good.”

“She gets to you, doesn’t she?” Micah asked candidly.

Rafe scowled in frustration. Yes, that hellion was definitely getting under his skin—to the extreme. Never in his life had he been forced to match wits with such a quick-minded female. And to his baffled amazement, he found her extremely attractive, even when she looked like a scruffy ragamuffin in those dowdy men’s clothes. In all fairness, she shouldn’t ooze sex appeal with her tomboyish appearance and her fiery temperament and that sassy mouth.

It was those green eyes that sparked with so much inner spirit that really got to him, he decided. In addition, he had the outrageous urge to grab a handful of that wild mane of curly red hair, pull her to him and kiss the breath out of her when she challenged him. It was an inappropriate and insane reaction—like nothing he had previously experienced in his association with women.

Before Karissa blew into his life like a tornado, he had never had difficulty controlling his emotions. Ordinarily he reacted with logic and intellect. But he couldn’t respond normally when she purposely tormented him.

He told himself he was attracted to her because he had been a long time without a woman. That was what caused his volatile reaction to Karissa. Since his parents had formally announced his betrothal to Vanessa Payton, Rafe had denied himself sexual satisfaction. It had been the honorable thing to do.

When Karissa’s image flashed through his mind like a bomb bursting in air, Rafe gnashed his teeth. For God’s sake, he was engaged to a woman whose family name carried prestige in military circles. It didn’t matter that he didn’t love Vanessa. How could he? He barely knew her. But she would make an acceptable wife for a career army officer. Even if this fort on the frontier afforded very little in the way of luxuries Vanessa would honor her family obligations and remain by his side.

So why had Rafe spent most of this evening, harboring all these forbidden thoughts of that red-haired witch who prowled around his room? It was beyond ridiculous. In addition, she obviously was in the habit of using her body to gain favors from men.

Even knowing that, he had been tempted by that siren. The realization that he desired her offended his strong sense of personal pride and honor.

She was a woman he knew he shouldn’t—and couldn’t—have.

“Hello?” Micah prompted playfully. “Are we going to fill in the duty roster or do you plan to spend what’s left of the evening staring off into space?”

Rafe forced himself to focus on the business at hand and set to work assigning tasks for enlisted men. With practiced precision, he and Micah completed the task in a few minutes.

“I suggest we assign Harlan Billings to guard Karissa,” Micah commented. “After you put him on report for being drunk and disorderly, he’s been digging latrines for three days. Personally, I would rather not have him back on patrol with us. I’m tired of listening to him whine and complain about scouting the area, day after day, looking for squatters. If nothing else, it will keep Harlan out of our hair.”

Rafe was inclined to agree. Corporal Harlan Billings—who had been demoted from the rank of sergeant already—was a pain in the backside. Yet, Rafe wasn’t sure he wanted that particular soldier trailing after Karissa. Then again, he mused, she seemed to possess the ability to deal with men. If anyone could keep Harlan in line he would lay odds on the infuriating woman who had taken apart his room for pure spite.

With a nod, Rafe wrote Harlan’s name on the roster. “We’ll give him a trial run tomorrow,” he agreed. “If that doesn’t work out I think Harlan could best serve his country by mucking out the stables for a few days.”

Micah snickered. “Very appropriate. Why not send an ass to clean up after the mules and horses?” He shifted in his chair and sighed tiredly. “I for one will be glad when this Land Run is over and the territorial boundaries aren’t crawling with would-be settlers. The camps in this area are filling up steadily. I’ve counted nearly five hundred wagons circling the encampments. We also received a telegram that reported nearly ten thousand settlers have gathered on the Kansas border, preparing to move south within the next few days. Hopefully, our job will be easier when these settlers can focus their time on tilling the ground and constructing homes on their claims instead of crowding our space and picking fights with each other.”

“After the Run, I suspect we’ll be exchanging one set of headaches for another,” Rafe prophesied. “Free land brings out greed in people. Not to mention the money-hungry shysters who have been selling falsified maps to these hopeful settlers.”

“All the same, I think I prefer maintaining law and order to scouring the countryside for squatters and babysitting all these campsites that have sprung up around us.” Micah sighed wearily as he stood up. “I’m calling it a night. You can have my cot and I’ll make a pallet on the floor.”

“No,” Rafe insisted. “I’ll take the pallet. Just because a wildcat is tearing up my quarters doesn’t mean you should have to suffer for it. I’m the one who decided to stuff her in there for safekeeping.”

When Micah strode off, Rafe slouched in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. Even though he planned to post a guard to shadow Karissa every hour of the day he still didn’t trust her not to escape. When he returned from scouting the area for squatters he would keep an eye on her himself. He predicted she would try to make her escape at night.

And he would be there to pounce.

It was going to be a fair Run, for one and all, to claim free land, Rafe thought determinedly. Just because he was suffering feelings of partiality toward Karissa didn’t mean he was going to let it stand in the way of duty. He was not going to show her special treatment by letting her sneak back into the territory prematurely.

On that determined thought Rafe checked the door to see that Karissa was locked up tightly for the night, then he sprawled out on the floor of Micah’s quarters to grab a few hours of sleep.