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 sturdy 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.
She was grateful to have reached the fort. She was driving her mules,
swearing to them beneath her breath, and wondering if the calluses would
ever leave her fingers. She'd gotten them right through Uncle Joe's
heavy leather gloves.
She was sweaty, salty and sticky, and her hair was coming loose from the
neat braid she'd twisted at her nape. She had said that she could
manage--and Lieutenant Slater had let her do just that.
His men had continued to be very kind, and she had continued to smile
and be as gracious as she could in return. He had kept his distance
since he had left her that night, but she had felt his eyes on her.
Always. his eyes were on her. When she drove the wagon, she would
suddenly feel a warmth, and she would look around to discover that he
was no longer at the head of the column, but had ridden back and was
watching her. And at night, when. one of the men would bring her coffee
or food, he would stare across the distance of the camp fire. And by
night she heard footsteps, and she wondered if he wasn't walking by to
determine if she was sleeping. If she was safe.
Or did he walk by to discover if she might still be awake?
He infuriated her, but she was also glad, and she realized that she felt
safe. Not because she was surrounded by thirty or so cavalry men, but
because he was walking by, because he was near.
But now they had come to the fort. He would turn her over to his
commander and disappear from her life.
Someone would be assigned to see her to Wiltshire, and she need never
see him again. Never feel his eyes again, the touch of smoke gray and
insinuation that warmed everything within her and seemed to caress her
as if he saw her again as he had by the brook.
They were in front of the command post. Tess pulled hard on the reins,
dropped them and started to leap from the driver's seat. She smiled, for
Jon Red Feather was there to help her.
She had grown to like the man very much: his striking, sturdy
appearance, his silence and his carefully chosen words. And she sensed
that he believed her when others might not.
He set her upon the ground. She thanked him then looked at all the
confusion around her. Wives, children and perhaps lovers had spilled
from the various buildings in the compound to greet the returning men.
Monahah had called out an order dismissing them all, and the band was
quickly breaking up.
Lieutenant Slater was striding up the steps to the broad porch that
encircled the command post, saluting the tall, gray-haired man who
awaited him. Jon indicated the steps.
"Miss. Stuart, I believe the colonel will want a statement from you as
soon as possible. I'll see to your accommodations for the evening and
return shortly."
He walked her to the porch. Apparently Slater had already explained
something about her, for the colonel was quick to offer her a hand and
guide her up the steps.
"Miss. Stuart, our most sincere condolences on the loss of your uncle,
but may I say that we are heartily glad that you have survived to be
here today," "Thank you," Tess said. It was strange. It already seemed
like the whole thing had happened in the distant past. Days on the
plains could do that, she decided. And yet, when the colonel spoke so
solicitously of Uncle Joe, all the pain and the loneliness rushed back.
She tried to swallow them down. She needed to impress this man with
intelligence and determination, not a fit of tears. She didn't want to
be patted on the back. She wanted to be believed.
"Miss. Stuart, if you would be so good as to join us inside, the colonel
would like to speak with you," Slater said.
There was a startling light in his eyes as they touched her. Not
amusement, but something else. Almost a challenge. He wanted to see if
she would back down, she thought. Well, she wouldn't.
She walked past both men and into a large office with file cabinets and
a massive desk and a multitude of crude wooden chairs. Slater pulled out
a chair for her, and she sat down as regally as she could manage,
pulling off her rough leather gloves and letting them fall into her lap.
She felt Slater's eyes, and she looked up then looked quickly away.
He had seen the blisters and calluses on her hands. The colonel took his
seat behind the desk. He was an elderly man, whose gentle blue eyes
seemed to belie his position as a commander of such a post. His voice,
too, was gentle. Tess thought he was genuinely grateful to see her
alive, even if he had never met her before.
"Would you like coffee, Miss. Stuart? I'm afraid I've no tea to offer
you" -- "Coffee will be just fine, thank you," Tess said.
She hadn't realized that there was another man in the room unt'd a
s'dent young corporal stepped forward to bring her a tin mug of black
coffee. She thanked him and an awkward moment followed. Then the colonel
sat forward, folding his hands on the desk.
"Miss. Stuart, Lieutenant Slater informs me that you have claimed that
it was not Indians who set upon your band."
"That's right, sir."
"Then who?"
"White men. Hired guns for a man named yon Heusen. He is trying to take
my uncle's property and" -- "He'd have men attack a whole wagon train to
obtain your uncle's property? Think now, Miss. Stuart, is that logical?"
She gritted her teeth. Slater was watching her politely. She wanted to
kick him.
"It wasn't a large wagon train, Colonel.
We've had good relations with the Comanche in our area, and my uncle
wasn't afraid of the Comanche! We were traveling with a very small
party, a few hired hands, my uncle-"
" Maybe, Miss. Stuart, the Indians weren't Comanche.
Maybe they were a stray band of Apache looking for easy prey, or
Shoshone down from the mountains, or maybe even an offshoot of the
Sioux"--" No Indian attacked that wagon train."
Tess swung around. Jon Red Feather had come into the room. He helped
himself to coffee, then pulled up the chair beside Slater. He grinned at
his friend, then addressed the colonel.
"I'm sure that Miss. Stuart does know a Comanche when she sees one, sir.
And it wasn't Apache. Apache usually only scalp Mexicans--in
retaliation." He turned and smiled at Tess.
"And I can promise you that what was done was not done by the Sioux. A
Sioux would never have left Miss. Stuart behind."
A shiver ran down Tess's spine. She didn't know if Jon meant that the
Sioux would have taken her with them-
-or that they would have been sure
to kill and scalp her, too. The colonel lifted his hands. Even with Jori
corroborating her story, he didn't seem to believe her. Or if he did
believe her, he had no intention of helping her.
"Miss. Stuart, I have heard of this von Heusen. He has big money, and
big connections, and I understand he owns half the town" -- "Literally,
Colonel.
He owns the judge and the sheriff and the deputies."
"Now, Miss. Stuart, those are frightful charges" -- "They are true
charges."
"But don't you see, Miss. Stuart, you'd have to go into a court of law
against this man. And you'd have to charge him in Wiltshire, and like
you said ..." His voice trailed away. "Why don't you think of heading
back east, Miss. Stuart?"
She was up on her feet instantly.
"Head back east? I have never been east, Colonel. I was born here in
Texas.
My grandparents helped found Wiltshire. And the little bit of town that
yon Heusen doesn't own yeti still do. I have no intention of turning it
over to him! Colonel, there's nothing else that I can tell you. I have
had a rather trying few days. If there's some place where I might rest,
I'll be most grateful to accept your hospitality for a night or two.
Then, sir, I have to get home. I have a ranch and a paper that need my
expertise."
The colonel was on his feet, too, and she sensed that, behind her, Jon
and Slater had also risen. She spun around, feeling Slater's eyes,
certain that he was laughing at her again.
But he wasn't laughing. His eyes were upon her, smoky and gray and
enigmatic. She sensed that she had finally gained a certain admiration
from him. What good it could do her, she didn't know. The colonel had
been her last hope.
Now the battle was hers, and hers alone.
"Miss. Stuart, I'd like to help you if I could"
"Nonsense, Colonel. You don't believe a word I'm saying," Tess told him
sweetly.
"That's your prerogative, sir. I am very fatigued ..."
"Miss. Stuart can take the old Casey place while she's here," Jori said.
"Doily Simmons is there now, with linens and towels."
"I shall be most grateful to the Caseys," Tess said. "No need," Slater
drawled.
"Casey is dead. Caught a Comanche arrow last year. His wife went on hack
east." He was taunting her, and she smiled despite it.
"I have told you all, Lieutenant, I've never been east" -- "Oh, not that
east, Miss. Stuart. Mrs. Casey and the kids went to live in Houston,
that's all."
"Well, I rather like the area I live in," she said sweetly, then she
turned to the colonel.
"If I may, sir ... 7"
"Of course, of course! Jamie, you and Jon will please escort the young
lady to her quarters. And Mis~ Stuart, if it's Wiltshire you're
insisting on reaching, I'll arrange you an escort just as soon as
possible."
"Thank you."
Jon opened the door. Tess sailed through it. Slater followed her.
"It's this way, Tess," Jon told her. He'd never used her first name
before, and certainly not as he did now, intimately, as if they were old
friends.
There was a bright light to his striking green eyes, and she realized
that it was for the benefit of Jamie Slater. Jamie. Silently, she rolled
the name on her tongue.
"Lieutenant" seemed to fit him better.
Not always . Not that day he had looked down at her on the rocks after
shooting the snake. His hair had been ruffled, his shirt had fallen
open, and she had wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel the vital
movement of his flesh, so bronze beneath the setting sun. Then, then the
name Jamie might have fit him just fight. It was an intimate name, ,a
name for friends, or for lovers.
He was behind her still. Jon Red Feather was pointing things out to her.
"That's a general store, and there's our one and only alehouse, we don't
dare call it a saloon. And down there is the coffeehouse for the ladies.
We've a number of women at the fort here. The colonel approves of the
married men having their wives with them, and since the fort is strong
and secure ..." He shrugged.
"Then, of course, we have the stores and the alehouse and the
eoffcehouse, so we've a few young and unattached ladies, which makes it
nice for the soldiers at the dances."
"Dances!"
"Why, Miss. Stuart, we do try to be civilized out here in the
wilderness." "Desert," Jamie Slater said from behind them.
"I think it's really more a desert than a wilderness, don't you, Jon?"
He didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "There's the Casey house
right there." He strode up three steps to a small house that seemed to
share a supporting wall with the structure beside it.
The door burst open suddenly. There was a large buxom woman standing
there.
She had an ageless quality about her, for her features were plump and
clear, her eyes were dark and merry, and it was difficult to see if her
hair was blond or silver.
"You poor dear! You poor, poor dear! Caught up in that awful Indian
attack"
"Miss. Stuart doesn't believe that it was Indians, Dolly," Jamie Slater
said evenly.
Dolly waved a hand in the air.
"Don't matter who it was, does it? It was awful and heinous and cruel
and this poor girl lost her friends and her uncle. It was your uncle,
fight, dear?" "Yes," Tess said softly.
Dolly had a hand upon her shoulders, drawing her into the house. Jon and
Jamie Slater would have followed except that Dolly inserted her grand
frame between them and the doorway.
"Jon, Jamie, get on with you now. I'li see to Miss. Stuart. I'm snre you
were right decent to her on the trail, but she's had a bad time of it
and I'm going to see to it that she has some time to rest, and I'm going
to give her a nice long bath, some homo-cooked food, and then I'm going
to put her to bed for the night. She needs a little tenderness right
now, and I'm not so sure you're the pair to provide it!"
"Right, Dolly," Jon said. Amused, he stepped back. Jamie Slater tipped
his hat to Tess over Dolly's broad shoulder. His lip, too, was curled
with a certain amusement, and Tess felt that, for once, she could too
easily read the message behind his smok~-gray eyes. He thought that she
needed tenderness just about as much as a porcupine did.
"Good evening, Miss. Stuart. I do hope that you'll be feeling better
soon."
"If you're lucky, Jamie Slater, she'll be up and about for the dance
tomorrow night."
"If I'm lucky" -- Jamie started to murmur. "Well, hell, there's no lack
of young men around here, Lieutenant!" Dolly said.
Tess could feel a brilliant crimson flush rising to her cheeks. She
wasn't sure who she wanted to bat the hardest--Dolly for so boldly
putting her into an awkward situation, or Jamie Slater for behaving as
if escorting her to a dance would be a hardship.
"There's absolutely no need for anyone to concern himself," she said
quietly, a note of ste
el to her voice. There-she'd given Slater his out.
"I consider myself in mourning. A dance would he completely out of the
question."
"Would it?" There was a core of steel to Jamie's voice, too. He managed
to step past Dolly and catch her shoulders, and she thought he was
furious as he gazed into her eyes. She couldn't understand him in the
least.
"I don't think so, Tess. Your uncle was a frontiersman, a fighter. I
don't think he'd want you sitting around crying about what 53 can't be
changed.
He'd know damned well that life out here was hard, and sometimes awfully
darned short and sweet, and he'd want you to live. And that's what
you're good at, isn't it? Fighting--living?"
"Lieutenant Slater, really, I" -- "Maybe it's just the fighting that
you're so good at. Maybe you don't really know how to live at all."
She cast back her head, ignoring the grip of his fingers upon her
shoulders.
She gritted her teeth hard, then challenged him hotly.
"And you think you're the one who could teach me how to live,
Lieutenant?
Why, I'm not sure that you're more than a perfo~t Yankee mannequin
yourself, Lieutenant."
His lip curled. His grip on her shoulders suddenly relaxed.
"Why don't you test me then, Miss. Stuart?"
"Jamie Slater, that young girl is vulnerable right now" -- Dolly started
to warn him, but Jamie and Tess both spun on her.
"As vulnerable as a sharp-toothed cougar," Jamie supplied.
"Never to the likes of him!" Tess promised. Dolly was silent. Soft
laughter sounded, and Tess saw that it was Jon Red Feather laughing, and
that he seemed quite pleased with the situation.
"No wonder white men don't like Indians!" Jamie muttered darkly.
"Sure. Keep the white folks at war with themselves, and half the battle
is solved," Jon said pleasantly.
"Jamie, come on. It's settled. You can pick up Miss. Stuart right after
sunset."
"Nothing is settled" -- Tess began.
"Sunset!" Jamie said. He seemed to growl the word. And he didn't give
her another second to protest, but slammed his way out the door. It
closed with such a bang that even Dolly jumped, but then she smiled
benignly.
"I do just love that man!" Dolly said.
Tess stared at her blankly.
"Why?" she demanded. "Oh, you'll see," young lady. You'll see. And that
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