Magic in Her Eyes
Page 8
Damn. The horse was sick. If he were a betting man, he’d have lost the farm. “Looks like you’ll need to find another mount, Mr. Finley. Sergeant Reese will help you select one from the remuda.”
The agent’s eyes took on a weaselly gleam. “Amazing. The mare seemed to be off her feed a bit. I thought it was just female contrariness. How did you know she was unwell, Robbie, is it?”
“He’s just attuned to animals.” Miss Talbot aimed the boy for the stall door. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Finley rubbed his chin, eyebrows arching. “Quite out of the ordinary, I’d say.”
Just dandy. The agent’s attitude toward the boy had twisted from disgust to interest—and not in a good way. Preston stepped aside to let the pair pass. “Good day, Miss Talbot. I suggest you keep a tighter rein on your charges. We can’t have them wandering unescorted all over the fort. It’s too dangerous.”
“I give you my word; it won’t happen again.”
Right. Like the sun promised not to shine. He’d best be on guard for the next transgression. Especially with reprobates like Finley just waiting to take advantage.
****
Water rushing downstream burbled a serene song. Even the breeze whistled merrily. Meredith sank to her knees on the creek bank and briefly closed her eyes. It was just the tranquility she needed. Her body quivered with tension. It bubbled and churned inside her like a geyser preparing to erupt.
After returning to the jailhouse, she’d blasted Robbie for disobeying her orders and directed him to gather the ashes from the potbelly stove as punishment. His woeful expression ate at her. He was just a child and adored his animal friends. Clearly, the stress of moving to the fort was turning her into someone she didn’t know or particularly like—a shrew, as Lieutenant Booth had claimed.
With a heavy sigh, she dipped the metal pail into the rushing water and let it fill. The line at the community well had indeed been long just as Robbie had complained. When asked about another place to draw water, a soldier had pointed her to Dancer’s Creek located just outside the rear pedestrian gate. While only six feet across, it ran swift and deep and flowed with clear, crystalline water. It probably originated in the Shoehorn Mountain that shadowed the valley and would taste much better than musty old well water.
She placed the bucket on the bank and sat back on her haunches. Birds calling to one another drifted across the grassy meadow that stretched beyond the creek. Trees had been cleared for a good distance around the fort. Where the wood line picked up again, splashes of white from the later flowering trees dotted the greenery. The soldier had warned her not to dally, but such serenity couldn’t be rushed. Surely the renegades wouldn’t venture this close to a garrison filled with armed men. She could spare a few more minutes to enjoy the lovely view.
As she bent to fill the second bucket, a breeze kicked up and white cotton puffs danced around her. The source was a tall cottonwood that stood sentinel a few yards from the creek. Thick, gnarled roots shoved up through the ground like the oak at Seaton House. She missed that old behemoth, even though it had caused her no end of grief.
She set the filled bucket beside the other and swiped at the perspiration trickling from her brow. The heat was oppressive today, and it wasn’t even at the height of summer yet. She dreaded returning to the fort where the tall stockade walls cut off any chance of a breeze.
A few feet away, the shelter of the cottonwood’s canopy beckoned. She could spare a few more minutes before leaving such a haven.
She rose and moved into the cooling shade. The trunk of the cottonwood was at least three feet in diameter and covered with rough, gray bark. While impressive, she made sure to stay well clear of it. She’d had enough of unreliable, disjointed visions.
Just up from the cottonwood, a tangle of honeysuckle embraced a cluster of decaying stumps. Pretty trumpet-like blooms dotted the lush vines. A sweet, nostalgic sadness spread through her.
She crossed to the vines and plucked a bloom. She pulled out the stem and placed it in her mouth. Sweet nectar bathed her tongue. She smiled. She and her stepbrother had often snuck off from their studies to enjoy the white honeysuckle growing along the pasture fence. They had called the collection of vines their candy store. It was one of the few enjoyable memories she had of Charles before…
No. She tossed the bloom to the ground. All that darkness was behind her. She wouldn’t let the memories haunt her. Couldn’t. The pain was too unbearable.
She spun to return to the creek. An ominous rattling rose from a tangle of tree roots. She froze. Mildred had warned her to keep a watch for the venomous rattlers that were as plentiful in the territories as bugs at a picnic. Her wool-gathering had placed her smack in the middle of danger.
“Don’t move, Miss Talbot,” a familiar deep voice warned.
She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. Fear frosted her veins and petrified her muscles. The rattling increased until it reached a crescendo. The snake was about to strike.
A gunshot sliced the air.
She flinched and stumbled backward. Her hands met the cottonwood. Warmth shot through her palms. Her head spun, and darkness overran the sunshine. Red and yellow flames burst into her vision, darting and dancing in a macabre ballet. The image was much fuzzier than usual, less distinct. Probably because it came unbidden.
A door and a window shimmered through the fiery haze. A building was on fire. Where?
Firm hands coiled around her waist and tugged her away from the tree. The vision vanished in a flash of light. Buzzing filled her ears. Her stomach roiled. She gasped and slumped against the lieutenant’s chest. The pungent aroma of horse and wood smoke filled her senses.
He gently laid her on the ground. “Are you all right? Did the snake strike you?”
She tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. The aftereffects of the vision still had her in its clutches.
He shoveled her skirts to her knees and started probing her calves. His touch was warm and tender and most intoxicating. Venom from a rattler couldn’t be any more lethal.
“I don’t see any fang marks,” he said.
His hands left her, taking their warmth with them. She swallowed and located her voice. “I-It didn’t…strike me.”
“Good.” He pulled her skirts back over her legs. “A bite would have been disastrous.”
For her or for him? She pushed up on her elbows. The earth spun like a toy top. Two heads swam in front of her. No three. She grimaced. Lordy, one of him was more than enough.
“Hold still. You’re white as those cottonwood puffs.”
She managed a slight shake of her head. “I’ll…be fine.”
“Can I get you something? Water? A wet cloth?”
“No. Just…give me a moment.” Or two or three. She focused on the tree roots snaking through the grass. One of them wasn’t a root at all. It was the rattler, now headless and unmoving. A shudder pulsed through her. If the lieutenant hadn’t been there to save her, she could have been bitten. She might have died.
Her whirling head finally settled enough that she could look up without losing her lunch. The lieutenant had shucked off his hat. Dribbles of sunlight burnished his short-cropped brown hair. An angel’s halo, Becky would have called it. He was her savior, yes. Angel, that was debatable.
“Thank you for rescuing me, Lieutenant. I should have been more cautious.”
“Yes, you should have. But you shouldn’t have been out here in the first place. What if renegades had attacked you instead of a snake?”
Overbearing man. She hefted her chin in a show of defiance. “I only intended a quick outing. We needed water, and the wait at the well was too long.”
“If you were that determined to go outside the fort, you should have requested one of the soldiers accompany you. Or better yet, come and asked me.”
Better yet? In her experience, tempting the devil never ended well. “I know how busy everyone is with the overcrowded conditions. I didn’t want to take you
or anyone else away from their duties.”
“You are my duty, Miss Talbot.”
Oddly, she wanted to be more to him than an obligation. “That must stick in your craw. It’s evident how much you dislike having to deal with me and the children.”
The firm lines around his mouth softened. He lifted a hand. “You have something…”
His fingers grazed her hair. Tingles shot across her scalp and ricocheted down her neck. She sucked in a breath. Being under the clutches of a vision wasn’t nearly as mind-numbing.
He tugged and then held out a twig. “There. Got it.”
She released the breath she’d held captive. How could such an innocent gesture feel so brazen, so seductive? Her scalp still prickled from his touch.
“As to your allegation…” His mesmerizing gaze slid down and locked with hers. “My duty assignment, while not my first choice, has its appealing aspects.”
A nervous chuckle snuck past her lips. “Appealing? What is so appealing about watching over noisy children and their steward?”
He leaned toward her. “You.”
His mouth covered hers, gentle and soothing, like a soft caress. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling, tasting. Fire raced through her veins. A moan rose in the back of her throat. This could not be real. Maddie must have slipped a love potion into the lieutenant’s drinking water.
He groaned and broke away. “Are you a witch, Miss Talbot?”
Her heart missed a beat. “Wh-what?”
“I usually have better control of myself than that. I believe you have bewitched me.”
“I believe you are the one who was snake bit, Lieutenant.”
He gathered himself, pulling away, retreating behind his stony barricade. “You are right. You were stunned by the near bite, and it was wrong of me to take advantage. It won’t happen again. You have my word.”
Part of her wanted the pleasurable experience to happen again—repeatedly. The sane part of her, the part that grasped the gravity of such closeness, shouted that she should run as fast and as far away from him as possible.
He collected his hat and pushed upright. “We should get back inside the fort before some other misfortune befalls you.”
Too late. Misfortune had already latched onto her and wasn’t letting go. She couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. She touched a finger to lips that continued to tingle and burn.
Burn. Fire. The vision. She stiffened. She’d left Robbie cleaning the potbelly stove. Considering her luck lately, anything could have happened.
“Why did you seek me out, Lieutenant? Is it the jailhouse? Is it on fire?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Confusion stamped his face. “Why would you think the jailhouse was on fire?”
Because a silly old tree told me. “I suppose I’m just overly tired from the move and worrying about the children. My imagination goes places it shouldn’t.” She lifted a hand. “If you could just help me…”
His fingers closed around hers, sending quivers parading up her arm. She levered to her feet and pulled out of his grasp. If he noticed her response, it might encourage more touching, more kissing. She couldn’t fall down that rabbit hole again. She might never climb out.
To her relief, he turned and retrieved the water buckets from the creek bank.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
More than ready. “Yes. And thank you for helping with those.”
“I’m happy to be of service.”
She batted aside the notion of exactly what service he was happy to perform. A white puff drifted between them. She gestured to the tree, seeking a more mundane topic. “I’m curious…why was this cottonwood left standing when all the other trees were cleared?”
“I asked the same question when I first arrived. One of my troopers said Major Allen ordered the tree to be left untouched. The commander likes to come down to the creek and sit in the shade to fish. I suspect to nap as well.” His gaze shifted to the west. “I prefer a good swim. Just over that hillock, the creek widens and slows. It’s the perfect place for a dip.”
Images surfaced of his sleek body sluicing the water. She quickly washed the pictures from her head. The less she thought of him in such an intimate fashion, the easier it would be to keep her desires submerged.
She fell into step beside him. He had a long stride. She had to double-step to keep up. “You never answered my question, Lieutenant. Why did you come out here? Were you checking on me, or was there another reason?”
“Both, actually. Major Allen and his wife invited us to a supper party tonight.”
“Us? You and me?”
“Yes. There will be other officers and their wives in attendance…as well as several prominent citizens from Mineral.”
It sounded like a large gathering. After the day she’d had, she doubted she could string together two words, much less carry on a conversation. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. Please give your commander my regrets.”
“It’s not a request. Major Allen made it quite clear he and his wife expect both of us to attend. What Mrs. Allen wants; Mrs. Allen usually gets.”
She kicked through the grass, searching for an excuse. Major Allen had been nothing but kind to her and the children. She didn’t want to offend him or his wife. The dirt staining her hem prompted an idea. “As much as I’d like to go, I don’t have anything suitable to wear thanks to those renegades.”
“Mrs. Allen heard about your hardship. She and some of the other officers’ wives organized a clothing collection. They sent a trunk of donated items over to the jailhouse. There should be something suitable for you to wear.”
Rooster’s teeth. It would be rude to refuse to dine with such kind-hearted women. “I suppose I will have to accept their invitation.”
“Excellent. I’ll call for you at seven.”
Tightness coiled around her neck and shoulders. Any serenity she had gathered at the creek had perished—shot and beheaded like the rattler.
Chapter Six
“Where in Pennsylvania are you from, Miss Talbot?”
Meredith shifted in the over-stuffed chair. If only she could disappear into the hollow cratering the seat cushion. Interrogations always put her on edge, especially when the questions pried into her past. Earlier, when asked about her place of birth, she had given a vague answer. Luckily the supper chatter had moved on to other topics. Now that the ladies had adjourned to the parlor, the focus on her had returned and didn’t appear to be budging.
She took a sip of tea, using the interval to gather her thoughts. She didn’t want to reveal everything about her past—just enough to satisfy their curiosity. A few details should suffice.
She set her cup in the saucer balancing on her knee. “I’m from a township north of Philadelphia. My father owns and operates a large cattle farm there.”
“Philadelphia.” Edeline Wentworth, whose husband owned the Shoehorn Silver Mine, beamed like a child who knew the answer to a math puzzle. “Our daughter Alice lives there with Stanley’s parents, Benjamin and Mary Wentworth. Do you know of them? They are prominent patrons of The Franklin Institute.”
Meredith shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize those names. We didn’t go into the city very often.” Well, her father and stepmother had. She hadn’t. Not once her talent had manifested.
“A cattle farm, you say?” Mrs. Troutman, wife of the town physician, leaned forward in her chair. Brown curls and ribbons dangled from her head like trimmings on a festive tree. “That must be quite the enterprise.”
“It is. Before I left, the estate had swelled to over five thousand acres. Father was forever procuring more land. He boasted of eventually owning the largest cattle ranch east of the Mississippi.” Mostly at his new wife’s urging. Cordelia Wright Talbot seemed quite taken with wealth and status and pushed her husband into acquiring more and more. The woman had a powerful hold over her father—almost supernatural.
“And your mother?”
“My mother passed when I was a young girl.”
“That must have been very difficult for you. I’m sorry for your loss.” Mrs. Troutman’s eyes glimmered with sympathy, the sort of kindness that didn’t pose behind half-masted eyelids. “What made you decide to come out here to the territories?”
The answer to that question would send these fluffy women running for the door. A half-truth would have to suffice. “I came to assist my Aunt Mildred with the orphanage.”
“How noble and self-sacrificing,” their hostess said from her perch beside the serving tray. Mrs. Allen wore a ruffled gown of black silk flecked with white and gray. Streaks of white striped her dark hair and even dotted her eyebrows. She looked like the speckled hen that nested in the cattle barns and chased after anyone who ventured near her territory.
“No more noble than your donation of clothing.” Meredith raised her teacup in tribute. “Thank you again for your thoughtful generosity. All of you. It was much appreciated by everyone from Seaton House.”
Mrs. Allen stirred sugar into her tea, her spoon tinkling against the porcelain. “We were just doing our Christian duty. Perhaps you could tell us about the orphans under your care.”
“What is it you wish to know?”
“We’ve heard rumors that the children at Seaton House are…well, odd.”
Hopefully the woman had heard nothing more than ignorant speculation. Meredith put on her most engaging smile—the one she used to calm frightened children and placate overbearing matrons. “They are no different than other youngsters. Little Becky is afraid of the dark. Anna is shy and avoids strangers. And the boys, well, they are just like any other young men. Rough-housing, teasing the girls, and collecting all sorts of insects and reptiles. Surely you know of what I speak.”