The Unlikely Wife

by Cassandra Austin

  Custer’s audience with Huntington was brief, the former being eager to be on his way. But Huntington asked Clark to remain and give his own report of the nearly three weeks since he had left the fort. In return, Huntington told Clark about the troops from Fort Harker that had arrived the day before.

  “We heard of the epidemic, sir,” Clark said. “I suspect Lieutenant Colonel Custer is worried about his wife back at Fort Riley. This trip to Fort Harker for supplies for Fort Wallace is Custer’s own idea”

  Huntington grinned. “You think he’ll head on to Fort Riley?”

  “I wouldn’t be completely surprised, sir.”

  Huntington waved the subject away. “It’s good you’re home, Clark. Belle says she’s caught your wife entertaining gentlemen callers twice, now.”

  This shouldn’t have been a complete surprise either, but Clark felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. All the air had rushed from his lungs, and he didn’t trust his voice.

  “One was Sergeant Whiting and the other was our striker, Paddy Malone.”

  Clark took a deep breath, easing some of the pain. “I asked Sergeant Whiting to check on her and your niece while I was away.” He wished he had an easy explanation for Malone.

  “Well, you know Belle. It could all be innocent enough. I wouldn’t recommend you confront Rebecca with it. That girl can turn things around until you feel guilty for asking.”

  Colonel Huntington’s assessment of Rebecca never quite fit with his own, but arguing with his commanding officer didn’t come naturally. Besides, he had a feeling he wouldn’t get anywhere if he did. His response was the one that came most easily to his tongue. “Yes, sir.”

  Huntington nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

  Clark left the tent. He wasn’t sure which was more upsetting, the news of the male callers or the way the colonel talked about his daughter. He had half hoped she would still be waiting outside but the area was deserted.

  He headed for his tent, trying to decide what, if anything, he should do about Belle’s rumors. Regardless, things couldn’t continue as they were. He and Rebecca needed to talk. But what could he say? He was so tired after Custer’s forced march he would probably end up begging her to love him.

  Tomorrow, he decided, after a good night’s sleep. If that was possible next to Rebecca.

  As he neared his tent he heard Rebecca humming a slow soft melody. The front of the tent was open, and he saw them as he stopped. Rebecca and Hank Raymond, locked in an embrace. His gut took another blow.

  When the buzzing in his ears subsided and the haze left his vision, he realized they weren’t kissing. They were dancing.

  “I like the fast ones better, Mrs. Forrester. I don’t feel like your little feet are in quite as much danger.”

  “But when you’re dancing fast and do step on my toes, you step down harder.”

  “Really?”

  “Trust me.”

  Clark leaned against the tent post to watch them. Rebecca’s humming was slightly breathless. The glimpses he got of her face revealed cheeks pink from the heat. He could see she was smiling and discovered he was as well. The Raymond boy’s back was to him, and Clark could only guess he was enthralled.

  “You’re awfully nice to teach me to dance, Mrs. Forrester,” Hank said. “I promise I’ll use everything you’ve taught me.”

  “I need the exercise. All the meat you bring would make me fat without the lessons.” She stepped away, ending the dance.

  Clark clapped briefly, bringing both dancers around to face him.

  “Clark!”

  “Lieutenant Forrester!”

  Clark smiled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “We were…I was…ah…leaving.” The boy slipped past and headed for home.

  Rebecca hadn’t moved. She watched him closely, and he wondered what she expected to see. “Dancing lessons?” She nodded. “Did you think I’d be upset?”

  She shrugged and looked away. He had the feeling she was disappointed. Because he had brought the dancing to an end? He tried to dismiss the thought; Hank was just a boy. But Rebecca was young, too.

  “I’m going to the creek for a swim,” he said. It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her along, but he wasn’t so exhausted that he wouldn’t respond to her, and he didn’t trust his control right now.

  “I’ll fix some lunch while you’re gone,” she said, already making herself busy.

  Clark went to his trunk for soap and clean clothes. He hesitated a moment before leaving. There should be something he could say, something that would express part of what he was feeling without leaving his heart open to too much pain.

  I missed you. But he didn’t say it aloud. He was almost out the tent when she stopped him.

  “Clark, I’m glad you’re home.”

  He nodded and left, unable to say what he wanted to. He had never known he was a coward before, but there was no other explanation. In the morning, he told himself. He wanted to wait until his head was clearer. But he knew that was only half the truth.

  Clark felt a little better when he returned from the creek. While he was hot again almost instantly, the layer of grime was gone. But the cold water didn’t seem to sharpen his wits. He was still feeling cowardly and confused when he approached his tent.

  And watched a man step out of it. “Private Powers?”

  “Sir.” The man tucked a bundle under his arm and saluted. “I heard you were back.”

  “Were you looking for me?”

  “No, I was—” He had raised a hand toward the tent and seemed to realize suddenly how his presence could be construed. “I’ve been looking after your wife’s horse in exchange for my mending.”

  Clark nodded, though he wasn’t sure he understood. He watched Powers walk away then turned into the tent. Rebecca was setting the table and seemed oblivious to the exchange.

  “Why is Mr. Powers looking after your horse?”

  “It seemed the best way to insure that he was cared for.”

  Clark walked toward her. She hadn’t yet looked at him. “I thought you would want to do that yourself. I don’t object. I’m just surprised,” he added quickly.

  “I could, of course.” She hesitated. “The truth is I got spoiled by the pants.”

  “Then wear the pants.”

  She shook her head. “People wouldn’t understand. I’ve got some lunch ready.”

  She brushed past him and bent to lift a pan from the fire. He remembered her little backside clad in the wool uniform. He was smiling when she turned to face him. She seemed surprised and a little flustered.

  “When did you start caring what other people thought?” He followed her to the table less from hunger than from a desire to be a little closer to her. Her dark curls had grown out since he had cut them, and he wondered what they felt like.

  She slid into one of the chairs, slipping out of his reach. “When it became more than my own reputation at stake.”

  It sounded rehearsed. Or as if she were trying to convince herself. “You’re not concerned what visits from Mr. Powers or young Raymond will do to your reputation. Or mine.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t look so horrified,” he said quickly. “I know why they were here. And I’m sure you have an explanation for Mr. Malone’s visits, as well.”

  He hadn’t meant to mention Malone but, God forgive him, he was jealous. Though he tried not to let it show.

  “He gives me eggs in exchange for…”

  He raised an eyebrow as he waited.

  “It’s a secret,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Not from me.”

  He thought he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes. She leaned forward and said just above a whisper, “He can’t read. I’ve been writing letters for him.”

  Her father had been right. He felt guilty for asking. He dipped up some of the fried potatoes and put them on his plate. He wanted to ask if that covered all her male callers, but maybe he was hap
pier not knowing. Rebecca changed the subject, and he hoped that didn’t mean she had something to hide.

  “Tell me the news,” she said. “Did you find Kidder’s men?”

  “We found their bodies.” The picture came to Clark’s mind and he tried to brush it away. They had picked up the trail, then found a dead horse and finally the mutilated bodies.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebecca said.

  “It was too small a group to send out. They made an easy target. Ten troopers, one Sioux scout, and Kidder, with a wagon-load of supplies.” He couldn’t help but think of their own expedition with several wagons and an escort of forty untried men. They had been lucky.

  “Any other news?” she asked.

  “Your father says there’s talk of a peace commission being sent out from Washington.”

  “More treaties to break?”

  As Clark’s hunger was satisfied, he felt weariness overtaking him. He could hear it in his voice when he answered, “It’s got to be better than this.”

  “You need to sleep,” she said gently, reaching across the table to rest her hand on his.

  He wanted to lift her fingers to his mouth, wanted to pull her into his arms. Wanted, he realized, more than he was capable of at that moment. “Why don’t you go for a ride while I catch up on lost sleep?”

  She hesitated and he added, “Wear the pants if you want”

  Her smile was shy but he pretended it was teasing and flirtatious, and he let it fuel his imagination as he stumbled off to bed. He was asleep almost instantly.

  When Clark awoke it was dark. He didn’t need a light to know Rebecca slept beside him. Right beside him. He supposed she had gotten used to sleeping in the middle of the bed while he was gone, then remembered Alicia had been here when he left. Perhaps she had only stayed a day or so. The colonel had told him that Alicia was working at the hospital so he had assumed she was fine and hadn’t asked Rebecca about her.

  It was just as well. If he didn’t know how long she had stayed, he could imagine she had been here until recently. Then he could pretend Rebecca was cuddled against him because she wanted to be near him. She had thrown one leg over his because she had missed him and wanted to remind herself that he was home. He didn’t want to know better.

  He had gone to bed fully clothed but even through the fabric of his pants, he could tell she hadn’t He couldn’t help letting his hand inch toward the delicious weight on his thigh. His fingers contacted warm bare skin. He assumed there was a gown bunched somewhere above this expanse of leg. But he pretended there wasn’t

  He wanted to run his hand along her leg, up and over her hip, but he didn’t dare. It would wake her. Would she jump away, shocked? Or roll away, bored? Either way, it would ruin the fantasy. As long as she slept undisturbed, he could pretend she would cuddle closer, return the caress, open her lips to his kiss.

  From there his mind imagined all sorts of possibilities. His body willingly responded. When the ache reached a point where he was afraid he would give in to temptation, he carefully extricated himself from his wife and slipped into the other room.

  He took a match from his pocket and struck it, finding a lamp to light He kept the wick low, not wanting the light to bother Rebecca. A quick check of his pocket watch told him he had slept nearly fifteen hours. It was early, but he couldn’t return to the bed.

  Unless there was an emergency, he was off duty today. He wasn’t sure what he would do to fill the hours, but it seemed he was getting an early start. Outside, he rekindled the fire, started coffee and put water on to heat so he could shave. He was inside, mixing the slivers of soap in the warm water when he felt Rebecca slip past the curtain.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  “So are you, now. Did the light bother you?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I want to talk to you.”

  “All right” He left the brush in the cup and turned, giving her his attention.

  She smiled. “It can wait until you’re through shaving.”

  He studied her for a moment before he turned to the mirror he had hung on the tent post and began lathering his face. He needed to talk to her, too, only he wasn’t sure what to say. He was happy to put it off, even for a few minutes. Maybe the right words would come to him.

  “Do you mind if I watch?” she asked.

  She had moved closer until he could see her in the corner of his vision. “I don’t mind.”

  “I like watching you shave.”

  “I know.” He set the cup aside and lifted the razor. He turned to her as he spoke. “You watched me nearly every morning when we were on the trail.”

  Her cheeks turned rosy under his gaze. He pulled his eyes back to the mirror. She hadn’t realized he knew about her morning visits to his camp. He probably shouldn’t have told her. But this morning was the time for honesty.

  She was quiet until he dropped the razor in the pan of water, splashed a little on his face and reached for the towel. She took the towel when he was finished and wiped away a bit of soap from his ear he would have sworn wasn’t there when he looked in the mirror.

  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she began, turning to move a few steps away. Abruptly she faced him. “I want to go back to Chicago.”

  “Chicago?” He was nearly holding his breath. “Do you have friends there you want to visit?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go to stay.”

  Bewildered, he tried again. “I know life is hard here, but the tent’s only temporary. Things will get—”

  She cut him off. “That’s not it.”

  Whatever was bothering her she seemed reluctant to tell him. He didn’t even want to guess. The dark corners of the tent made him think of how dark and barren his life would be without her. With a sense of desperation he said, “I thought you liked the prairie.”

  “I do, Clark.” She took a deep breath and he held his. “I know about Annie.”

  He heard the nearly forgotten name with a shock. “Annie? Rebecca, I swear I haven’t seen Annie since before I met you.”

  “I know. I know,” she said quickly. She seemed on the verge of tears. “That’s why I’m going to leave.”

  She hung her head, and Clark moved to take her in his arms. “I’m lost, Rebecca.”

  She slipped out of reach and paced across the tent. “My aunt told me about…a man’s…well, his needs. And if I’m gone you can go back to Annie.”

  Clark blinked at the narrow back, certain he didn’t understand. “You’re leaving me, so I can take a mistress?”

  The curls bobbed as she nodded.

  It was too ridiculous to believe. There were many arguments against it, not the least of which was his own desire to be with Rebecca, not Annie. He asked the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t leave his heart bare before her. “What is your father going to think about this?”

  She spun around. “Father! I’d forgotten about him.”

  The situation might be comical if his life wasn’t at stake. “I find him hard to forget.”

  She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. He tried not to be distracted by the way the nightgown tightened across the soft swell of her breasts.

  “All right,” she said, as if giving in to something. “I’ll stay. But please be discreet.”

  Clark was ready to put an end to this foolishness, but he still didn’t know what had led up to it, what she really wanted. “Rebecca,” he began, moving toward her. “With Annie, I thought I was discreet, but you found out about her, anyway.”

  She sighed, looking completely discouraged. He put his hands on her shoulders, grateful that she didn’t move away. “What Annie and I had was over before I went east. She married someone else, and I’m happy for her. Now, please tell me what this is about.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears. “You’ve been around me enough to know how selfish I am. I wanted you and it never occurred to me that y
ou might not want me, too. All I knew was that I loved you, then I ruined your life.”

  She choked on the last word, and one tear escaped to run down her cheek. Still she fought to keep from crying.

  She had said she loved him. He wanted to kiss her soundly and put off the rest of the conversation until later, but he knew she needed to understand. And he couldn’t let her continue to believe he thought she was selfish.

  “Rebecca,” he whispered, “you married me to save my career. I shouldn’t have let you.” Her lips trembled, and she nodded. “That’s not what I meant. I let you because I was too in love with you to resist.”

  She blinked, her tears drying. “You love me?” Her cheeks turned rosy as she asked, “Then why didn’t you do something?” One little fist struck him in the ribs.

  He tried to keep from grinning. “You quit teasing me. You never flirted. I thought you had grown tired of me.”

  “I was trying to be a perfect wife.”

  He couldn’t hold back the laugh. She looked a little offended. “I’m afraid my idea of a perfect wife isn’t quite the same as yours.”

  “So, describe the perfect wife, and it better not be Annie.”

  “No,” he said, laughing. “I got a glimpse of the perfect wife when we were playing chess.”

  “When I beat you?” she asked, grinning finally.

  “When your eyes sparkled just like they’re doing now. When you teased and tempted me.” He drew her closer. “When you kissed me.”

  He bent and took her lips. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around him, pressing herself against him. He drew out the kiss until he felt her tremble. He raised his head and whispered, “Do you want me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He bent and scooped her into his arms. “You wouldn’t be teasing me, would you?”

  She giggled, clinging to his neck. “Maybe you better find out.”