Читать книгу The Scout's Bride - Kate Kingsley - Страница 13

The air was fresh and rain-washed when Jack rode back to Fort Chamberlain. Though his arm ached, he felt better than he had for days. His body was healing and his mind was clear after watching the sun rise.

Fatigue call was sounding as he guided Ol’ Jo through the main gate. The fort was already returning to normal. At the flagstaff, the adjutant received officers’ reports. A work party stripped the blockhouse of its drooping paper lanterns. Only soggy black patches in the grass served as reminders of the night’s misadventure.

Jack was surprised to see the patrol assembling on the other side of the parade ground. Clad in campaign clothing and equipped for several days, they ranged along the road in front of the headquarters building. He rode to join Diego at the head of the column. “Qué pasa? I thought you weren’t leaving till afternoon.”

“First we patrol between the fort and the railhead, then we go,” the Mexican replied with a shrug. “El coronel gave the order after a messenger arrived. He wishes it to be safe for a visit by some dignatarios from the railroad this afternoon. Solemn will show these tenderfoots some buffalo.” Gold flashed as he grinned. “You, I think, will have the honor to dine with them tonight.”

“Damn.” Jack wished he were going. He would be more useful on patrol than at the fort, coddling eastern visitors. Quiller’s decision to make the army’s presence known on the plains was as calculated as a chess move, but it was fraught with risk. A show of power might deter the Sioux from more bloodshed, but it could incite some of the volatile young braves. He was just glad Mackey was in command. The captain had a cool head.

Resting his hand on the stock of the Spencer rifle in his saddle scabbard, Jack looked around. A dozen people clustered on the headquarters steps, bidding their farewells. Rebecca stood a little apart, trying to give the Mackeys some privacy. Though she looked as if she wished she could disappear, she did not seem much the worse for last night’s experience. In fact, she was lovely.

“Don’t start,” the scout muttered under his breath. He had given himself a stern lecture during his morning ride. Curiosity, a weakness of his, had led to what happened last night. He had forgotten the kiss at the hospital, so he had kissed her again. He had wanted to see if she would kiss him back. She had. Now his curiosity had been satisfied. No more moments of weakness, he ordered himself, trying to ignore Diego’s amused gaze.

Unaware of his observation, Rebecca brooded. She should never have come to see the patrol off. She wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t thought Flora might need her. She was uncomfortably aware of Francis’s reproachful stare. She had done nothing wrong by going to the fireworks display, she told herself, but she had hurt his feelings when she made her brief appearance with Injun Jack.

Even more than the adjutant, she dreaded facing the scout. Last night had been folly from the kiss in the kitchen to the ruin of her dress. And she hadn’t even thanked him properly for putting out the fire.

“Good morning, Mrs. Emerson,” a polite voice interrupted her troubled thoughts.

“Good morning.” Glad for the distraction, Rebecca joined George Davis at the foot of the steps. “How are you this morning?”

“Ready to be underway, but I’m glad of an opportunity to speak to you, ma’am… privately.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?” she asked with a puzzled frown.

He hesitated, then said stiffly, “First of all, Mrs. Emerson, you must know that Company B is quite fond of you.”

“You’ve all been very kind.”

“Then I hope you’ll understand,” the young officer went on miserably, “if I caution you not to spend time with Injun Jack.”

“What?” Rebecca stared at him, unable to believe her ears.

“I know he kept you from serious injury when your dress was burning and we all appreciate it. But a lady of your quality…”

“I think I understand,” she murmured when he faltered. Though part of her rebelled at having to defend her actions, she could not summon up any real outrage. George was obviously ill at ease with what he considered his duty toward his captain’s lady.

“I assure you, Lieutenant, Mr. Bellamy’s actions last night were no more than kindness to a widow,” she lied. “I probably will not see him again.” That was the truth. Once she had thanked him, she intended to avoid him completely.

“I hope I haven’t offended you,” George muttered woefully, “but I am concerned for your welfare.”

“I understand.” She sighed.

“What do you understand?” The pair turned to see Francis behind them, his jealous green eyes resting upon them.

“That the entire company worries for the captain’s lady,” George blurted defensively.

Regarding Rebecca with a proprietary air, the adjutant murmured, “You never have to worry as long as I’m around.”

“Then you’ll look in on her while we’re away?” The other man’s relief was apparent.

“I can take care of myself,” Rebecca protested, glaring back and forth between them.

“But you don’t have to,” George assured her. “If you need anything, you have only to ask Lieutenant Porter.”

“Your most willing servant.” Sweeping his hat from his head, the adjutant bowed gallantly.

She was spared having to answer when Brian gave the order to mount up. Kissing his wife’s cheek, he grinned at Rebecca. “Make Flora behave while I’m away.”

“If I can.” Returning his teasing smile, she moved to stand beside her friend.

“God be with you, Brian,” Flora called. “God be with you all.”

“Aren’t they handsome?” Amy Little gushed. Joining the women, she watched as the two long columns of men lurched forward, their equipment rattling. “It is disappointing that they don’t wear their dress uniforms on campaign. They don’t even wear insignia, so you can tell the officers from the regular soldiers.”

“Insignia catch the light and make them targets,” Flora answered tersely.

“Then it’s just as well. They’re still the cavaliers of the plains,” the young woman maintained romantically.

At the head of the column, Brian’s company saluted the colonel and began to sing “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”

Through the dust, Rebecca glimpsed Injun Jack across the road on the parade ground, frowning as he watched the cavalry’s departure. His frown deepened into a scowl when Derward Anderson approached him. Wheeling his horse, the scout headed for the stable, nearly trampling the newspaperman as he passed. He never glimpsed Rebecca’s disapproving face.

The women watched the patrol ride west until they were specks against the horizon, and their song and clatter had long faded. Then Rebecca said gently, “Come, Flora. I’ll walk you home.”

The fort was quiet as the two women cut across the parade ground to Officers’ Row. Few voices could be heard and those were subdued. A haunting spiritual and the click of curry combs came from the stables where the Buffalo Soldiers tended their horses.

“Good morning, young ladies,” Doc greeted them on his way to deliver the sick call report. “I see the boys got off with your husband in the lead, Mrs. Mackey. He’s a fine officer.”

“Thank you.” The captain’s wife smiled in wan appreciation.

“I suppose you’re wondering about your patient, Rebecca.”

“How is Private Greeley this morning?”

“I gave him laudanum last night and he’s still sleeping. He should wake soon. Would you like me to send for you when he does?”

“Please.”

“And Rebecca-Perfecta—” the physician hesitated before leaving them “—do you think you might help Sergeant Unger inventory the stores and pharmaceuticals? I could order a nurse to help him, but you know the ‘volunteers’ I get. Most are men the sergeants are trying to get rid of. I don’t trust them not to drink what’s left of the whiskey or help themselves to the laudanum.”

“I’ll come as soon as I can, Doc.”

“You can go now if you wish,” Flora offered as they resumed their walk. “I should visit the infirmary. I think Private Greeley is one of Brian’s men. But I just can’t do it today.”

“You don’t have to,” Rebecca told her soothingly. “Would you like to come to my house? Or would you prefer to go home?”