A Texan's Luck (31 page)

"He'll be fine, but he needs rest and food."

"I'll be back in five minutes. Will there be anything else, Mrs. Larson?"

"Yes, please tell Mrs. Garner that I will be late today for the quilting."

Hayes smiled. "I'll do that."

"And would it be possible to have water for a bath delivered?"

He nodded once and hurried away.

As promised, five minutes later, Hayes delivered a tray loaded down with food and a pot of coffee. He deposited it on the table and disappeared.

They ate in silence, both hungry for food and for the sight of each other. Walker asked her to help him put on his shirt before they sat down, but she'd insisted on him leaving it off so that she could see if the wound would bleed through the bandage. They compromised with her draping the shirt over his shoulders for, as he informed her, a gentleman doesn't sit at a table in a state of undress.

As they ate, she found herself spending far too much time studying his bare chest and little time watching for bleeding. He seemed a different man than the one she'd known before. He appeared exhausted, with dirt on his clothes as well as his face. Much less proper, she thought. Much more likeable.

By the time they finished eating, the tub was ready. Walker hesitated. "There's no blanket for privacy."

"I'll turn around, Captain." She almost laughed, surprised at his need for privacy. He must have lived in the barracks at some point. But then, undressing with men around was a great deal different than removing all his clothes in front of a woman.

With her back to him, she heard him undress and splash into the tub. "Sorry," he said, "I can't depend on my left arm just yet."

She turned around. The tub was big, but it looked so small with him sitting in it. Squaring her shoulders, she moved forward. "Allow me to help."

He turned down her offer, then demanded she leave him be, then swore, but she paid him no mind. He needed help and, unless he wanted her to call Hayes, she was the only one available.

She was right, of course. He needed her. They reached another compromise. She washed his shoulders, around the bandage, and his hair while he pouted. Walker might have been able to sit down in the tub with only one good arm, but he'd turn the water over if he tried to get out. With a towel wrapped around him, she helped him stand. Lacy felt sure the idea that he needed her help bothered him far more than his wound.

"Enough." He stepped from the water. "Turn around, Lacy."

She did and listened to him fumble with his clothes. If she waited for a thank-you, she'd die of old age.

When she turned back, he'd managed to pull on a clean pair of trousers. Without asking, she helped him with his undershirt, sliding the cotton gently over the bandage. Then she rubbed his hair nearly dry while he complained.

"What next, sir?" she asked when he combed his hair back with his hand. "Shall I shave you?"

"Get in bed," he mumbled with the temperament of a wildcat who'd been forced to bathe.

Lacy crossed to her side of the bed, unbuttoning her dress as she walked. She slipped it over her head and dropped it on the floor without a thought as she crawled under the covers. Now that she knew he was safe, lack of sleep caught up to her.

Walker threw the bolt on the door and joined her. He stretched out his good arm and waited for her to roll against him.

When she did, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. "This is what I thought about for two days. No other world. No other time but here."

Lacy yawned and placed her hand over his heart. Her captain had returned to her.

They both fell asleep with no other words between them.

Hours later, she awoke with him kissing her, and her dreams slowly moved into reality.

She gently pulled away and sat up. "Let me check that bandage."

Walker relaxed. "I wasn't thinking of my arm. It's time I got back in uniform. The major will be expecting a full report." He smiled. "But first, I thought I'd get reacquainted with my wife."

She leaned over him and studied the dressing. No blood spotted through. "Good." She ran her hand gently along his injured arm. "It may heal nicely."

"Do that again," he whispered as he tucked a pillow beneath his head and studied her.

She brushed his arm again, from shoulder to his hand, then stared down at his face. His eyes were half closed as he watched her move. Looking down, she noticed the first few buttons of her camisole had pulled free, revealing part of each breast. She stilled, not knowing what to do. The last time he'd seen so much of her, he'd accused her of exposing herself.

"You're beautiful," he said.

She started to deny it or to say that he'd seen her before, but something in the way he looked at her stopped her. He wasn't just observing, or watching, or staring. He was worshiping.

Straightening her back, Lacy lifted her hands and undid the remaining buttons, then waited, unsure what to do next.

Walker lifted his hand and slowly pulled the thin cotton away from her breasts. For a while he didn't move, he only stared, then he whispered, "I think you are perfection."

She'd never felt beautiful in her life, but she did now.

He leaned up and gently kissed the tip of each breast before buttoning the top button of her camisole back in place.

"Thank you." She closed her eyes as fire rushed in her blood.

"For what?"

"For making me feel…" She didn't know the words to describe her feelings. She sat in a quiet room, but inside she was running full speed into the wind. "I liked you looking at my breasts," she admitted. "Maybe I'll show them to you again sometime?"

He laughed knowing she was teasing him. "I would be honored."

Then he pulled her down to him and kissed her soundly, only this time, his hand slipped beneath the cotton of her camisole and brushed over her. When she moaned in pleasure, he tightened his hold on her just enough to send lightning shooting through her veins.

The clocked chimed the quarter hour. Walker raised his head. "I could stay here in this private world of yours forever, but duty calls. It's almost noon. If I'm not in the major's office in a few minutes, he'll come after me." He smiled. "And there are things in this room I'd rather no other man see."

She wanted to pull him back, but she knew he was right. They'd had the morning together in peace; she could ask for no more.

He kissed her cheek. "Will you meet me here, madam, before midnight tonight? There are a few things I'd like you to show me."

"I will," she whispered as he kissed her one last time before leaving.

This time the kiss was filled with a promise.

Lacy joined him, helping him dress as she pulled on her own clothes. He no longer acted angry and accepted her fussing over him, touching her as she touched him, enjoying her closeness as she helped him.

By the time she buttoned his jacket, he appeared strong as ever. No part of the wounded man who'd returned from battle remained. The bloody uniform with no rank on it lay in a pile on the floor. He now wore a uniform tailored only for him with his rank in plain sight.

"Tell me what happened while you were gone, Captain. Why did you wear those clothes?"

"Some other time, Lacy. I promise." He smiled as if they shared a secret. "But not in bed. I never want to talk of what I do in the army when we're in our private world."

"Fair enough," she agreed as she opened the door.

He brushed her bottom with his hand as he passed her and walked out.

She smiled. His touch had been light.

She stepped out on the porch and watched him salute Hayes, then turn and march to the major's office without a backward glance.

Lacy folded her arms and turned to see what Hayes needed.

"I had to be here to see it," Hayes whispered to Lacy. "I heard about the captain, but I wanted to see it for myself."

Lacy stared at the sergeant. "See what?"

"I saw him come in all wounded and bloody. He was barely able to sit the saddle. Then he walks out a few hours later right as rain."

Lacy almost told Hayes of the bandage and the pain Walker was in but decided not to. "What exactly do they say about my husband, Sergeant?"

Hayes looked at her in surprise. "Well, they say he's indestructible. Like a machine." The sergeant glanced down, no longer looking her in the eyes. "They say he has no feelings. That he don't feel nothing, not even the pain of a bullet."

"Sergeant Hayes, did it ever occur to you that they might be wrong?"

"I wouldn't know, ma'am."

"No, but I would." She smiled and left him standing on the porch.

Walker gave his full report to Major Garner.
Just as the major feared, there had been an ambush before the prisoner could be delivered by six of the fort's best men. Walker had followed procedure, disappeared from the escort just after leaving the fort and rode ahead, out of sight.

He'd been trained years ago to move across the land like a shadow. He came upon the ambush before they'd mounted. He managed to capture two of the men planning to rush the detachment and killed another in a fight. Three other outlaws lay in wait in the narrow part of a canyon, planning to pick off the soldiers as they moved through a ravine. The ambushers were unaware Walker had taken out their point men. It had been a fiery battle, but all six soldiers returned to the fort with only minor injuries, and the prisoner was now under federal marshal's guard.

The only thing Walker left out of his report was his disappointment in not finding Zeb Whitaker among the group of outlaws. Walker had done the major a service, commanded a dangerous mission, but as far as he was concerned, he'd wasted his time.

"If you hadn't been here, six of my men would be dead right now." The major shook his head. "They're good soldiers, but they don't know the land like you do. They wouldn't have known the direction to ride to get out of the canyon."

"Don't give me too much credit. I did what I've been trained to do. They're good men. They might have made it without me."

"Not without casualties."

Walker changed the subject to news of the old buffalo hunter.

Zeb Whitaker had been spotted in several locations in the Panhandle. He might even be in Mobeetie, but no one, not the rangers, or the marshals, nor even the army seemed to be able to find him. Besides Nell's attempted murder, there had been two killings connected with him. It seemed he got out of prison planning to even the score with every man or woman in the country he thought had wronged him. Rumor was he'd killed a whole family over by old Tascosa so there would be no witnesses. The country was full of outlaws looking for a leader, and Whitaker campaigned for the spot.

If someone didn't stop him soon, every crime in the state would be tied to Whitaker, if only by tall tale.

Walker crossed back to the officers' quarters wondering how he could explain to Lacy that he'd almost gotten himself killed over a prisoner transfer. He'd also figured out that they couldn't stay at the fort much longer. Major Garner was in dire need of officers. He had fine troops with many who'd fought during the Indian Wars, but few officers. If Walker stayed, he'd be away from Lacy most of the two weeks he had left of his leave. Major Garner needed him too badly to allow him to sit around in the fort.

He also had a feeling Garner only sent six men as escorts because he wanted to test Walker. That bothered him.

Garner should have never risked his men to prove Walker's skill. He could have easily sent a dozen men or waited for the marshals to pick up the prisoner at the fort. But the major had played Walker like a chess piece, and that rubbed the wrong way. The sooner he and Lacy left, the better.

He wasn't surprised that Lacy had vanished when he stepped back in their room. She might just be one little woman, but he had his work cut out for him keeping up with her.

Walking out on the porch, he noticed Hayes standing guard two doors down.

The sergeant silently pointed to the door, knowing Walker's question before he asked.

Walker opened the quarters and was surprised to find probably every wife on the fort sitting around a quilting frame. Lacy sat in the middle of them, laughing.

"I beg your pardon." He straightened. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

The major's wife waved her hand. "Oh, it's all right, Captain. We were just breaking up to go home and bake for the dance tonight. Lacy showed a few of us some fancy stitches yesterday, and everyone else wanted to learn them today."

Lacy stood and collected her things as she said her good-byes.

"Your wife tells me you two will not be attending the dance." Marianne Garner left a hint of a command in her tone. "I'd really love to have you join us. We've all grown quite found of your bride."

"Of course," Walker answered and noticed the panicked look Lacy shot him. To her credit, she didn't open her mouth until they were alone.

"We can't go." She faced him without fear.

"We're going." He didn't understand her anxiety. It was only a dance, one of the few fun nights at a fort.