Colt (14 page)

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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: Colt
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“But you're the officer in charge, aren't you? You're not Irish trash like Mama's family says you are. Why, you're a major in the elite Second Cavalry, and you can do anything you want to do.”
“I wish I could,” he muttered and poured a slug of whiskey into a smudged tumbler, thought it over, and filled it up. “Olivia, you're asking me to go against everything I believe in and if I got caught—”
“But you're the officer in command and you know Colton doesn't deserve to go to prison.” She let loose a wave of tears like Noah's flood.
He took a big gulp of whiskey as she sobbed and sobbed. “Please, dear, don't cry.”
“How can I stop when I love him so and we were planning a big wedding?”
He sighed. “I'll have to think about this awhile, Olivia.” He gulped his drink.
She jumped to her feet, ran around the desk, and hugged his neck. Daddy was spineless compared to Mama. “Oh, thank you, Daddy. I just know you'll find that secret order in your desk that you didn't tell the other officers about, in case the mission was a failure.”
He waved her away and smoked his pipe and smiled. “You know, I may remember that I did order Lieutenant Prescott to go after Mrs. Brownley. He's the only man in this fort brave enough to send on a mission like that.”
She wiped her eyes. “Oh, Daddy, I knew he didn't desert. He's a hero after all.”
“Now go along with you, I've got work to do.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, pumpkin.” He nodded to her as she went out the door.
She had known she could do it. She started across the parade grounds toward the infirmary. Men, especially Daddy, were putty in her hands. Why that Captain Van Smyth would crawl on his knees for her if she asked him to.
Now should she convince Colton to remain in the army? He would look so good in a colonel's uniform, or maybe even a general's, and Mama's family had so much influence in Washington. Too bad Daddy wanted to rise on his own merits and was stuck as a major. If he'd just ask Mama's brother for help, Daddy could be a general by now. After all, Uncle Ernest was a congressman. On the other hand, if she persuaded Colton not to reenlist when his term was up in a few weeks, Uncle Ned would find a place in one of the De Ville family businesses in Philadelphia.
Olivia could already imagine their life together. She and Colton would own a big mansion near the center of the city and she would have a fine carriage with a matched pair of black horses—no, maybe she'd rather have white. She pictured Colton, handsome and tall, dressed in the latest style, escorting her to the opera with all the women swooning with jealousy.
Olivia stopped short when she saw Mrs. Brownley disappearing into the infirmary. That woman. How dare she go out in polite society after sleeping with a dirty savage? Of course she had. Everyone's tongue was wagging over that half-breed little redskin she had brought back with her. And Mrs. Brownley was carrying a dish of something that smelled very good from here. Olivia's mood was immediately ruined.
She turned and went stomping off to her quarters behind the major's office. “You, Maria,” she said to the Tonkawa maid. “I want you to cook up something scrumptious for me to take to my sick fiancé—maybe a good vegetable soup.”
The maid shook her head. “Have no vegetables, missy.”
Who had vegetables? Mrs. Brownley had planted a garden behind the infirmary. “Then go steal some out of that white slut's garden and hurry up. I want to take my fiancé something delicious.”
The maid hurried out to obey. Humming “Beautiful Dreamer” and smiling, Olivia went in to put on her best dress, recomb her hair, and spray on some expensive perfume. If that plain Mrs. Brownley thought she could steal a man from a society belle like Olivia De Ville Murphy, she had another think coming.
 
Hannah had paused at the door of the infirmary, seeing the major's daughter walking toward her. She knew the girl did not like her and would not appreciate the fact that Hannah was bringing venison stew in to the lieutenant. Then the girl saw her, frowned, turned, and walked away.
Hannah sighed with relief as she went into the infirmary. “Hello, Doc. How's our patient?”
Doc stood up, smiling and sniffing. “He's better, as are the other two patients, one kicked by a horse, the other down with some kind of fever.”
“I think I brought enough for all of you,” she said and put the big bowl on the table.
“Good.” Doc's bald head nodded. “I'll dish it up, and you go in and see Lieutenant Prescott.”
She felt her heart beat faster. “Are you sure he's awake? I don't want to disturb—”
“If he's not, he'll wake up. Now go along with you.”
Hannah brushed back a wisp of yellow hair that had escaped her bun and tiptoed in to stand by Colt's bed. He was asleep, and she stood a long moment, looking down at him. She was beginning to have feelings for this man, and she had never had feelings, except hatred and fear, for any man. Every one she had known before had mistreated her, but this one was so kind and gentle.
Don't be a fool, Hannah
, she scolded herself.
He's pledged to the major's daughter and she can offer so much more than you can. And yet ...
As she stood there, wondering whether to leave, Colt's green eyes opened very slowly and he smiled. “I thought I was dreamin' you were here.”
She half turned apologetically. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
He reached out and caught her hand. “Don't go. I haven't thanked you enough for your hours of tireless nursin' and all the good food you have brought.”
She liked the feel of his big, strong hand. Hers seemed to fit into it so naturally. “How did you know?”
“Doc told me.” He pulled her down on her knees by his bedside so their faces were close.
Oh, she had an urge she had never had before, to reach out and touch his face, but of course she did not. She averted her eyes. “It's me who should be thanking you,” she whispered. “After all, you saved us from the Comanche and nearly lost your life doing so.”
He brushed her hair back, such an intimate gesture. “How are you gettin' along? How's the boy?”
“I've moved into one of the cabins on Suds Row.” She pulled away from him to break the spell, but he did not let go of her hand. “Soldiers can always use more women to wash and iron their clothes. I think I can manage financially so you don't have to worry about me.”
“Good,” he said, “but I wasn't worried. You're a Texas girl and Texans are always strong and independent.”
She flushed at the compliment and pulled away from the grip of his hand. “I reckon Grasshopper and I could live here indefinitely if the soldiers' dirty laundry holds out,” she laughed.
He smiled up at her, liking to watch her laugh. She seemed to laugh so rarely and when she did, her plain face lit up and became beautiful, with little crinkles in the tanned skin at the corners of those huge blue eyes.
He had never felt this way about a woman before. Oh, he had lusted after pretty saloon girls and had seen Olivia as a perfect, beautiful wife upon a pedestal, but there was something different about Hannah, brave and independent, yet sad and vulnerable. Olivia. What was he thinking? Hannah was married and her husband would be coming for her soon, and he had pledged his troth to Olivia. His troth, maybe, but he knew at that moment, his heart belonged to this shy, work-worn prairie girl.
Doc broke the spell just then, coming in with bowls of stew. “Hey, Colt, you're gonna like this. This gal can cook.”
Hannah flushed and stepped back, wiping her hands on the faded blue gingham dress that was one of Olivia's castoffs. “Oh, Doc, it's nothing special.”
“It's the best venison stew I ever tasted. Gal, if you wasn't already married, I'd try to marry you myself.”
Colt saw immediately that Doc had said the wrong thing.
Hannah's face fell and she stuttered, “I—I have to go. I've got a child to tend to and ironing to do.”
She turned and fled out the door.
Doc handed Colt a bowl and sat down in the chair. “What'd I say?”
Colt sighed, sat up, and took the bowl. “I think she hasn't got good feelings toward her husband.”
“That's too bad,” Doc muttered, “especially since the major tells me Brownley's due here soon.”
Colt paused, his mouth full of stew. It had been delicious, but now it tasted bitter and cold. He swallowed it. “How soon?”
Doc shook his head.
“Has anyone told her?”
Doc chewed his lip. “I don't think so.”
“It isn't good to surprise her like that.”
“Well, maybe things have changed and he'll be thrilled to see her. I think they lost a little boy. Maybe he'll really want Grasshopper. That's a cute child.”
“Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?” Somehow, Colt didn't think that was going to happen. Anyway it wasn't his business, he reminded himself as he ate. He was set to marry the major's daughter if he didn't go to prison or get shot for desertion. Hannah would have to make her own decisions.
Doc scratched his bald head. “You look like you're feelin' fit as a hound dog.”
Colt nodded. “I am. How soon can I get out of here?”
“Maybe tomorrow or the next day, depending on what the major says about whether he wants you confined to quarters.”
“Good,” Colt said, his mind busy. He wanted to be there when Luther Brownley rode in. It might not be Colt's business, but he intended to make sure Hannah really wanted to go with her husband. Otherwise, Colt would face him down and not allow him to take her away.
Chapter 10
It was the next day, late in the morning. Colt had spent the night in the infirmary. His arm, under the bandage, was still sore, but he was up and almost dressed when Olivia came in in a swirl of blue silk. “Surprise, darling, I've brought your dinner.”
He smiled at her, wishing he had shaved. “So soon? Why, it must not be later than eleven o'clock.”
She sat down in a chair near his bed and uncovered the small bowl. “It's vegetable soup, my best.”
“Oh, that's nice. You should have brought enough for Doc and the other patients.” He sat down on the bed across from her.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't think of it. Now you just eat this like my brave little soldier and get well and strong.”
“I wish you wouldn't talk to me like that, Olivia.” He didn't like being talked to like a child with that condescending tone, but he took the soup from her although he wasn't hungry because Hannah had brought him a good breakfast. Of course he knew better than tell Olivia that.
“Like what? Why you are my brave soldier.” She smiled and showed her pretty white teeth. She was so beautiful, it was hard to be annoyed with her. “Now eat your soup.”
He tasted it, but it wasn't very good. “Mmm, delicious.” He forced himself to eat a few bites.
“I wanted to get here before that woman brought you in something. Honestly, Colton, everyone in the fort is talking.”
He blinked and paused, the spoon halfway to his lips. “About what?”
“About what? Goodness gracious, darling, you are so naive.” She laughed. “About you bringing that woman back, about what might be going on.”
“There is nothin' going on. I rescued her; any man, at least a Texan, would do the same.”
“I didn't mean to sound jealous, my love. You're right,” she soothed and patted his arm. “You're so gallant.”
She was so beautiful, and she leaned closer, her soft lips so tempting. He tried to remember that he was once so bewitched by her. “Mrs. Brownley means no harm. She brings food for Doc and all the other patients, too.”
Olivia sniffed disdainfully. “But everyone says she's really bringing it for you. People are gossiping.”
“Then tell them to stop,” he snapped and set the bowl on the bedside table. “Mrs. Brownley is just an unfortunate woman who is grateful for my help.”
“Mmm,” Olivia said and reached out and patted his face with her manicured, soft hand. “Oh, speaking of which, I think you can forget about the charges.”
He tried not to think of Hannah's work-worn hand that was so much gentler than Olivia's touch. “Why?”
“Why? Well, Daddy suddenly remembered that he had given you a secret order to go rescue her and you did, almost at the cost of your life, so you're a hero, not a deserter.”
“I see. And what did you have to do with this?” He kept his voice cold.
“Well, goodness gracious, I couldn't marry a convict, could I?” She avoided his eyes. “Why, Mama and her family—”
“Olivia, I'm a man and I'm used to dealin' with my own responsibilities. A Texan would never hide behind a woman's skirts, and—”
“Well!” She stood up and glared down at him, the very epitome of righteous indignation. “I don't understand your ingratitude. Why, you're a whole lot like my father, never appreciating everything Mama's family's influence could have—”
“Olivia, I think we need to have a long talk.” He stood up, towering over her diminutive form.
“After you calm down, darling, and realize that I'm only trying to help you.” She reached up and caught his hand again, but he yanked away from her. “My,” she simpered. “My soldier boy is really in a bad mood.”
“Please don't talk to me like I'm a dim-witted child,” Colt almost shouted at her. “Hannah never—”
“Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!” she screeched back at him. “That slut is causing people to titter behind my back, and I won't have it, you hear?”
He wanted to strike her, but he had never struck a woman, no Texan would, so he gritted his teeth and controlled his temper. “Don't call her a slut.”
“Well, everyone knows half those women on Suds Row do more for soldiers than just wash and iron their shirts.” She stepped back, seemingly nervous at his anger. “Now Colton, dear, you've been very sick, so I'll overlook your unseemly outburst because after all, we're to be married and you owe Daddy and me a great deal of gratitude.”
“And I suppose you will remind me of that every time we have a disagreement over the next fifty years?”
“You're such a growly bear.” She came to him, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Why don't we go riding tomorrow if you're up to it and talk about our wedding plans?”
“Olivia, about that. I've been rethinking and I'm not sure—”
“Oh, darling, this isn't the time to discuss our marriage, not when you're still upset with little old me. Let's go riding tomorrow. I'll pack a little picnic, all right?”
Before he could protest, she had fled out the door in a swirl of blue silk.
“Well, damn it all to hell!” he grumbled and flopped down on the bed.
Doc came in just then. “I saw Olivia fleeing out of here like the devil rode her coattails. What happened?”
“I'd rather not talk about it,” Colt snapped. He might be angry with Olivia, but he was still a chivalrous gentleman.
“I see she brought you some soup.” Doc picked up the spoon and tasted it. “Okay, I reckon, but not as good as Mrs. Brownley's.”
Colt snorted. “Don't let Olivia hear you say that. She made it especially for me.”
“From vegetables stolen from Hannah's garden,” Doc said.
“What?”
Doc laughed. “From my window, I saw her maid, Maria, out there picking vegetables. I reckon Maria made the soup, too. Well-born ladies don't cook much.”
“Well, that was a cheap trick,” Colt complained. “How soon can I get out of here, Doc?”
“Dag nab it, Colt, you're as touchy as a boil. You can leave anytime. Just take it easy for a few days. I don't want that wound opening up.”
Colt sighed and rolled a cigarette. “I reckon the major will put me under house arrest.”
“No, I don't think so. Here, have a drink.” Doc went over to a cabinet and poured him some liquor. “It seems you had secret orders to go rescue the damsel in distress.”
Colt swore under his breath and lit the smoke. “Now, Doc, you know that ain't true.”
“Everyone now thinks it is, my boy.” He winked and handed Colt the tumbler of whiskey. “And if you're smart, you'll smile and nod when everyone congratulates you.”
“How can I? Why, it's like hidin' behind a woman's skirts.”
“Would you rather do a long stretch in the federal pen after a court-martial or maybe face a firing squad?”
“No, but I knew what I was riskin' when I set out after Hannah.”
“Then you were morally right, even though you didn't have official orders.”
Colt sipped his drink. “I don't think the army sees it that way.”
“They do now, so let sleepin' dogs lie, my boy.”
“But Hannah—”
“And another thing.” Doc leaned against the wall and lowered his voice. “If I were you, I'd call her Mrs. Brownley and forget about her. You don't think the major's daughter saved you for any other reason than she wants a bridegroom, do you?”
“I won't be her pet like some prissy little poodle.”
“Get used to it, Lieutenant. I think she's already bought the collar and leash. All she needs now is the license.”
“Dammit to hell!” Colt swore and took a long drag on his smoke. Then he drained his whiskey and stood up. “Thanks for the advice, Doc, but you know Texans are pretty damned independent.” He gathered up his gear and started toward the door, turned. “I feel like a rattlesnake caught in a gigantic spiderweb.”
Doc grinned. “Just remember what they say in Texas, ‘dance with the one what brung you' and forget about Mrs. Brownley. She'll be gone in a few days anyway.”
“That's right and then everything will be back to normal.” Colt almost felt a sense of relief as he went out the door and over to his own quarters.
 
He managed to stall Olivia for three days, telling her he still didn't feel like riding. He found himself passing close to the infirmary or dropping by to visit Doc, but Hannah seemed to be avoiding him. To pass the time, Colt whittled a little toy horse out of a branch of Osage Orange wood. Finally Colt took some of his shirts down to her cabin to get them washed and ironed. He tucked the little horse in his pocket.
She came to the door when he knocked.
“I haven't seen much of you lately.” He smiled.
“As you can see, I'm busy.” She wiped perspiration from her forehead and reached to get an iron off the stove.
“This is awfully hard work for you.”
“Not as hard as farm work or skinning a buffalo.” She kept her eyes on the shirt she was ironing. “Besides, I'm content; I've got a roof over my head and I'm making enough to buy food. I do wish the children would treat Grasshopper better, though.”
The toddler stuck his head around the corner, grinning at Colt, then ran to him.
Colt picked him up. “Hey, look what I've got for you.” He pulled the toy horse out of his pocket.
Grasshopper giggled and grinned as he took it. “Rascal,” he said in English.
Hannah seemed to try to hold back a smile. “He does like you a lot, Colt.”
“And I'm crazy about him.” Colt tickled the toddler, then put him on the floor, and Grasshopper played with the little wooden horse. “He needs a white name if he's gonna fit into white society.”
She paused. “I've thought about that, but I didn't come up with a good one.”
Colt watched the little boy playing on the floor. “What about namin' him for a real Texas hero, like one of the defenders of the Alamo? Give him something to live up to.”
She nodded. “You've got a point there. Bowie? Crockett?”
“I was thinkin' more like their leader, Colonel Travis.”
“Travis.” Hannah seemed to roll the name around on her tongue. “Yes, that's a good, strong Texas name. All right, Grasshopper is now Travis.”
The toddler said, “Travis?”
Colt grinned down at him. “Yes, you are now Travis, and you are a Texan like your mother.”
“Like Colt and Rascal?” The toddler returned to playing with his toy and crawling around on the floor.
“Yes, like Colt and Rascal.” Hannah smiled and Colt found her smile so enchanting.
Colt watched Hannah laboring over her ironing board. “Don't you want more than this, Hannah? Ironin' and washin' all day long at the fort?”
She shrugged. “I don't expect much out of life, and what man would want me now that I've been with a redskin?”
Colt almost said,
I would
, then stopped himself. “A lot of men wouldn't give a damn.”
She looked at him with those spirited blue eyes. “You know better than that. I can hardly walk over to the commissary without seeing women turn away and whisper, and men laugh and make crude jokes when I pass.”
“Who are they? I'll—”
“It's not your concern, Lieutenant. And you'd better not be seen coming here too much.”
“What? To pick up my laundry?”
She kept ironing. “The major's daughter won't like it.”
“To hell with the major's daughter,” he said.
“That's a fine way to talk about your fiancée.”
He shook his head. “I'm havin' second thoughts about that.”
“You'll wreck your career.”
“I'm havin' second thoughts about that, too. I've only got a couple more weeks, and then I might not reenlist.”
She looked up from her ironing. “Hasn't the army been your life? What else would you do?”
Colt shook his dark head. “The army has always been everything to me, but I don't know. Lately, I'm not sure. I've got a little money saved. I might buy a ranch, raise some good cattle and horses. If the war comes, the Rangers will need men to hold back the Comanches once the U.S. forces leave Texas.”
Hannah shuddered. “You're right. If the army should leave, the Comanches will run amok and ranches all along the Western frontier will be burned, people murdered, women—”

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