Holding the Fort
Page 9
Louisa tiptoed back to the parlor, thankful that her worn cotton skirt didn’t rustle. Major Adams had his doubts about her? Well, she had some questions for him. Like, why was her brother put in the guardhouse, and was he still there? When would it be safe to admit the family relationship? And what was a dignified, ambitious cavalry officer doing trick riding away from his fort?
Lieutenant Hennessey had been wrong. Fort Reno was full of secrets.
Chapter Nine
After three days, the knot on his head had finally disappeared, but his problems with the new governess had not.
Daniel sat in his leather chair by the fireplace in the parlor. After supper, Private Gundy had cleaned the kitchen and then quietly made his way to the barracks, leaving Daniel alone with his girls. But they weren’t alone anymore. Miss Bell had taken up residence, and the change was not all positive.
Daniel had wanted a matron, someone old and respectable to work with his girls and put his mind at ease. Miss Bell was by very definition uneasy on his mind. True, dressed in her dull and dreary clothes, she was attempting to minimize her beauty, but the gorgeous traveling gown he remembered was another mystery. How did a governess acquire such a dress? And there was a bearing about her that one did not acquire in the schoolroom, a sparking vitality that didn’t seem forged by hours of study.
He was having improper thoughts about the woman he’d hired to teach his daughters propriety. Improper only in that he shouldn’t be thinking of her at all, besides to winnow out her secrets and assure himself that he’d been mistaken in his first assessment.
The girls must have completed their lessons, because they’d been left to their own devices after dinner. Caroline stitched a white pillowcase for her hope chest while Daisy doodled pictures of Indian mothers and their children on a notepad. The ever-confusing Miss Bell sat opposite him with an arithmetic book held to the light of a lamp. Her pretty mouth scrunched into a bow, and her brow furrowed as she slowly traced over the ciphers with her finger.
Was there something amiss with the book? He squinted to make out something on the page, but from his vantage point, it was useless. Besides, studying her was more interesting than trying to read her book.
Had an observer no insight on the scene, they might very well suppose them to be a loving father and mother spending an evening around the fire with their two growing daughters. The observer might comment on the youthfulness of the parents—he didn’t look old enough to have a daughter nearly grown, either—and the tastefulness of the parlor. What they wouldn’t know was that the parlor had been furnished nine years ago when the General’s House was built. The furnishings didn’t belong to him, and he’d never even considered them until this moment, when he suddenly wondered what sort of impression his household had made on Miss Bell.
His wife, Margaret, had never lived at Fort Reno. He’d already been widowed when he received the assignment and moved his girls from their grandmother’s house in Galveston. He never worried about impressing his superiors when they traveled through Indian Territory. Fort Reno was an oasis after sleeping in a tent. Thanks to the quartermaster, no one in the army would find his home lacking.
But did she?
Eavesdropping was a time-honored method of information gathering, and so far, he had heard nothing further from Miss Bell that raised concerns. Instead he’d been confused by her pealing laughter, her lighthearted encouragements to the girls, and how she kept her good spirits even in the face of Caroline’s ill temper.
High-spirited during the day, but a bookworm in her spare time. As soon as her duties with the girls were completed, she buried her nose in books that were obviously far below her abilities. Was she that conscientious about being prepared? Did she memorize the upcoming exercises? Why did she appear to be studying so intently?
And how was he to learn anything if she never spoke to him? He couldn’t call her in for an interrogation. Actually, he could, but what if her story was true? Word would get back to all the missionary folks at Darlington of how he’d doubted them, and then he’d have some explaining to do. He’d have to think it through, but he was thinking of her too much already. Thinking of what a study in contrasts she made, with her ethereal, angelic features wasted in the faded mourning gown she wore every day. Thinking how her beautifully cultured voice and graceful movements contrasted with her lack of table manners and decorum. No answer seemed to satisfy.
She looked up, then looked away, embarrassed at meeting his eye. Daniel smacked the arm of his chair, ready to break the silence.
“Father, must you fidget?” Caroline whisked her needle through the fabric. “I was enjoying the peace.”
“How have their lessons gone?” he asked. The woman was a teacher, after all. Wasn’t that a topic they could converse upon?
Miss Bell raised an eyebrow. “I’m still evaluating them, to see where we should begin. I don’t want to frustrate my pupils by starting them below or above their abilities.”
Daisy giggled. “She thought I would still be working on my sums. And me, ten years old.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. Daniel felt the uncomfortable prod of dissatisfaction. He’d done his best with the girls—enlisting the help of the fort’s transient teachers and any learned man who came through to examine their progress—but had it been enough?
“And you passed the test. Next we’ll study . . .” She flipped ahead a few pages. “Multiplication.”
“I already know that, too.” Daisy held her notepad at arm’s length to better appreciate her sketching. “You’re going to have to find something more challenging.”
“Daisy, mind your tone with Miss Bell. She knows what she’s doing. There might be gaps in your education that we are unaware of.” It was his job to question the governess, not his girls’.
Miss Bell looked surprised. “Yes,” she said at last. “That’s what I’m doing. I’m starting at the beginning and finding gaps.”
Caroline flipped her embroidery over and picked up her little scissors. “Grandmother would have me taking real lessons by now.” She snipped a thread. “Instead I’m stuck proving that I know the most rudimentary parts of speech.”
“Caroline Adams, you apologize to Miss Bell.” Daniel would brook no insubordination. “It is not your place to criticize. You forget the chain of command here.”
Caroline appeared shaken by his reaction, but she stood her ground. As he’d come to expect. With lowered eyes but a defiantly raised chin, she replied, “May I be excused, sir?”
“You will prepare an apology and present it tomorrow morning. Go to your room.”
The room was uncomfortably silent as she gathered her stitching and glided out of the room.
Daisy pulled her skirt up to scratch at her knee. “I guess I’ll go up, too.” She came to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Pa. Good night, Miss Bell,” she added with a shy smile, then skipped to the stairs.
And now it was up to him to smooth over Caroline’s rudeness. Or would a teacher prefer to deal with Caroline herself? Either way, Miss Bell would be uncomfortable until she was assured that she would be treated with respect—
What was she doing? Instead of being flustered by Caroline’s criticism, Miss Bell had calmly unlaced her boots, slipped them off, then turned on the sofa and stretched her legs out in front of her.
Her white stockings were clean enough to be on the upholstery, but Daniel had never seen a woman sit like that in a parlor. It was almost like she was sitting in bed.
Thoughts like that were not helpful.
Perhaps, with her back against the arm of the sofa, she caught more light from the lamp. That was probably the benefit she sought. A benefit for him was that it allowed him to better study her profile. Her eyebrows were thin and light. Her large blue eyes looked able to produce tears at a moment’s notice, although she’d kept them dry so far. Her lips moved silently as she pored over the page before her. But as innocent as she appeared, her position was scandalous.
She lowered her book and stared at her charming toes as if they, like a naughty pup, had surprised her by jumping up on the sofa without permission.
“I’m sorry.” She sat up. “I’m not used to being in company after my work is done.” She shifted to sit properly, with her feet hidden beneath the hem of her skirt. “I’ll try not to distract you any further.” She lifted her book, effectively hiding her face from him.
He was distracted, but her turning the conversation back on him was a ploy he wasn’t falling for. And a mere book would not hide a subject of interest from his observation. She had to know he wasn’t put off so easily. And was this the first time he’d been alone with a woman since Margaret had died?
What did that have to do with anything?
Maybe he’d stir the pot. See how she responded if he too adopted informal manners. “We had a unit come in from the field tonight,” he said. “By the time we got everyone settled, my uniform had taken a good amount of punishment. And it’s so muggy tonight. I hope you won’t be offended if I remove my coat.”
Her blue eyes caught his over the edge of her book. Was she shocked by his lack of propriety? He felt a little reckless as he unfastened the brass buttons and tossed his coat aside. Maybe he should let her put her feet up. If they were living together, it only made sense that they be allowed some level of comfort at the end of the day.
“You had a unit come in?” She closed her book. “How interesting life at the fort is. Are the troops allowed to socialize during the evening?”
“Yes, once they’ve completed their duties for the day.”
“And what about the troopers in the guardhouse? Are they allowed out?”
Daniel paused. What a strange question. How did she know anything about the guardhouse?
“If they are being punished, then they aren’t allowed to socialize, but at the moment the guardhouse is empty—”
But she’d stopped listening. Instead she was lacing up her boots and heading for the door.
Bradley was out of the guardhouse and possibly strolling on the green. He’d be so surprised to see her. Louisa found herself striding to the front door before she considered the consequences.
She turned in the hall to see Major Adams right behind her. He hadn’t said a word, but obviously he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. She stumbled for an acceptable excuse for her behavior. One wrong word, and he’d telephone Agent Dyer to tattle on her again.
“I’ve been inside all day,” she said, “with my nose in a book. A stroll would do me good.”
He might have removed his coat, but he was still intimidating. So was the questioning look he gave her. “But it’s evening. It’s dark. Surely tomorrow would be better.”
Since when was darkness a reason to stay inside? No one expected Lovely Lola Bell to worry about such things. She hated to argue with him, but she had to see Bradley. What excuse would a lady give?
“The sun,” she said. “The sun is so hot during the day, and tomorrow the girls will have their lessons. Don’t worry about me. I won’t stray off the fort. I just want to—” she held her hand against her rib cage and inhaled like any good singer knew how to do—“to stretch my lungs.”
Major Adams looked so very interested that Louisa nearly lost her nerve.
“Miss Bell, you’ve probably lived such a sheltered life that you don’t understand the temptations these men face. They are good troopers, and if any of them treat you as anything less than a lady, they would be most severely punished, but all the same, there’s no call for you to be out after dark alone. I would not submit you to their company at night, when they are the most lively and reckless.”
And maybe it was when she was feeling the most lively and reckless, too? She laced her hands together, fearful of his reaction if he had any inkling of her thoughts. Had she finally convinced him that she was proper enough to teach his daughters, only to have it backfire on her? No one besides Tim-Bob and Cimarron Ted really cared for her well-being, and Tim-Bob had thrown her over at the first chance. But protecting her was part of the major’s duties, and he was probably one of those men who never failed to do his duty. Unfortunately, he’d determined that she was too genteel to rub elbows with the ruffians outside.
If only one of those ruffians weren’t her brother.
“You want to take a stroll?” The lamplight picked up traces of auburn in the waves of his hair.
With him? It might be the only way she could escape from the house. It was a dangerous prospect, but she’d learned to face fear on the stage.
I am Lovely Lola Bell. He will be enchanted with my performance and will love my show.
“Yes, sir. I would like that very much.”
“Do you need a shawl or something?”
She started to turn and then remembered that the only shawls she had were made of fabric that Mrs. Townsend probably considered worthy of hellfire. “It’s warm enough.”
“I’ll tell the girls. Excuse me.” His tall boots flashed as he strode up the stairs. Louisa nearly collapsed against the wall. What was she doing, going on a stroll with the major? How long before he discovered who she really was? What she really was?
She heard voices as he bade the girls good night. Would he tell them that they were going on a walk together? Alone? Louisa was lost at sea without a map. If only she’d had someone to teach her what was acceptable in society. As it was, she had to trust the major’s sense of propriety and hope this wasn’t a test of her character.
Down the stairs he came. He slid on his coat, racing through the buttons but forgoing his hat and gloves. He held the door open for her, standing as tall and brave as she’d expect an important military man like him to stand. She passed through the doorway, trying to keep her shoulder from brushing against his chest. Already she was jittery.
This was just a performance, and a performance for only one man, at that. One very powerful, very observant, very intelligent man.
He escorted her down the porch steps, but instead of heading toward the green, they walked to the officer’s quarters next door. Major Adams hammered on the door with his fist.
“Lieutenant,” he yelled. “Lieutenant, come down at once.”
The house was dark save a faint light in an upstairs window. Louisa followed the light’s progress down the stairs until the glow appeared at the front of the house. The door flew open, and Lieutenant Hennessey appeared with shirt untucked and sock feet.
“Yes, sir! What is it?” He caught sight of Louisa and began hastily tucking in his shirt.
“Miss Bell wants to stroll around the base.”
Lieutenant Hennessey’s eyebrow rose. “Oh? Right now?”
“Yes, right now. She’s spent after working with the girls, and she needs some relief.”
Great Saturn’s rings, what was he doing? Was he going to wake the whole camp to announce her walk? “There’s no need to wake Lieutenant Hennessey,” she said. “I don’t have to—”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant didn’t require an explanation. All he heard was a command. “Five minutes, and I’ll be ready. Do you want to wait inside?”
“That’s unnecessary,” the major said.
The lieutenant saluted and disappeared inside the house.
This was ridiculous. “I fully intended to go by myself,” Louisa said. “If you don’t want to go, there’s no reason to wake Lieutenant Hennessey instead.”
“Who said I don’t want to go?” Major Adams stepped back as if she’d offended him. “I’m going to accompany you on your stroll.”
“Then why summon the lieutenant? Does he have to guard the house while you’re gone?”
“Not at all. He’s to act as our chaperone. Even out here in the nations, I’m committed to providing you with the protections you’re accustomed to.”
Louisa ran a shaking hand over her eye
s. They were from such different worlds. If only he knew the kinds of protection she was accustomed to.
She looked across the dark parade grounds to the long barracks, where light came through the windows and voices could be heard laughing. A cluster of men stood outside the guardhouse, red dots of light attesting to the fact that they were enjoying cigars before turning in for the night. Metal rang out from east of the commissary as some troopers played horseshoes. Shouts came from the west as some men tested their skills at arm wrestling. Was Bradley one of those men? Was this her best chance?
The door opened, and the lieutenant appeared. “Reporting for duty.” He tightened his gloves and smoothed his blue tunic—dressed perfectly, when he should be in bed.
Her impulsive request to take a stroll had led to this? Louisa wanted to hide, but Major Adams saw nothing unusual in the procedure.
“Then we’re off. Fall back behind us, Lieutenant. Maintain a position twenty feet to the rear.”
Oh, dear heavens. They set off on the gravel path that lined the parade grounds. The uncomfortable man from the parlor was obviously in his element as he strode ahead of her, not a jot worried over whom their outing would inconvenience. Thankfully he had nothing to say, because she was so embarrassed she could hardly breathe. Instead she searched the darkness for a familiar form or gesture, glad that the major had forgone escorting her. It had been hard to concentrate with her arm tucked into his.
Would she recognize Bradley? She’d spotted him easily enough the day she arrived, but it was darker now. They approached a cluster of men. Their voices carried across the green as they laughed and shoved each other playfully. But their fun halted abruptly when Louisa and the major appeared out of the darkness. Immediately the men snapped to attention, frozen like opossums caught by surprise—minus the tongue sticking out.
They didn’t move a hair, even as she approached, giving her a good chance to search each of their faces. No brother.
“Good evening,” Major Adams said. “Carry on.”