Colt (15 page)

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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: Colt
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“I reckon you're right. I promised Olivia I'd take her ridin' this afternoon.” He stood up. He started to ask about her husband, decided not to.
“Your shirts will be ready tomorrow,” she said, “but I'll leave them on your doorstep.”
“Why? I can come by and—”
“Colt,” she said softly and put the iron down, came around the ironing board to face him. “Don't come here anymore.”
He was looking down into her face, and while her tone was spirited as ever, her eyes were tragic and vulnerable. He fought an urge to pull her to him and kiss her.
She must have felt the electricity, too, because her full, soft lips opened slightly and her eyes half closed. Even as he reached for her, she took a deep breath and stepped away, straightening her small shoulders. “We both know why, don't we?”
“Yes.”
She's a married woman
, he reminded himself,
and you are engaged to the most beautiful and cultured woman on the frontier. Do you want to start tongues wagging?
For himself, he didn't care, but Hannah had had enough trouble in her life without him adding to it. He took a deep breath. “Of course you're right.”
He turned without a word and strode out her door and across to the stable.
“There you are.” Olivia stood just inside the stable door with a small picnic basket. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten, darling.”
“I—I was delayed,” he said, not looking into her dark eyes. Was he loco? This girl was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and she was certainly a virgin. He could think of a million reasons why he was a lucky man to be engaged to Olivia and not one good reason to get involved with Hannah. He was an honorable man, and to a Texan, his honor meant everything.
A private walked up leading two saddled horses and saluted. “Here's your mounts, sir, just as Miss Murphy requested.”
Colt returned the salute. “Honestly, Olivia, I would have preferred Rascal.”
“But he's not very pretty, and we have these fine thoroughbreds here at the fort.”
The private was watching and listening, Colt decided, so he wouldn't take that fuss any further. He was annoyed the horses had been saddled. He didn't like treating his men like servants. “Olivia, I was capable of saddling horses.”
“Goodness gracious, I was just trying to be helpful, since you're just getting out of the hospital, and anyway, that's what enlisted men are for, to look after officers.”
He hadn't realized Olivia was so snobbish. Colt dismissed the private and helped Olivia mount up, then tied her picnic basket behind her saddle.
He wasn't looking forward to this ride at all, and now he realized the reason why. He was falling in love with Hannah, a married woman whose husband should be coming for her any day now. He must wipe the blonde from his mind.
“Darling, you're awfully quiet,” Olivia said as he mounted up.
“Am I? Just have a lot on my mind, I reckon. Let's ride to the river.”
“That will be nice. I brought cold roast beef, some chocolate cake, and homemade bread and pickles. Oh, and I tucked in a cold bottle of wine.”
“That will be wonderful.” He forced himself to turn in his saddle and smile at her as they nudged their horses into a walk.
Olivia prattled on and on about getting the latest fashion magazine in the post from New York City, how one just couldn't find good fabric or a dressmaker here, and on and on and on.
Had she always talked so much? She didn't seem to even be taking a breath, and he wondered if he could ever get a word in edgewise if he wanted to. She had a high-pitched voice that scraped across his nerves, but her constant prattle kept him from having to keep up a conversation.
In his mind, he heard Hannah's soft, low voice telling him not to come again and they both knew why. He realized that she had felt the same breathless attraction he had felt, and he knew somehow that he could have swung her up in his arms, carried her into her bedroom, and taken her with all the lust and need he felt. Yes, he must stay away from Hannah.
“So what do you think?” Olivia looked over at him as they rode.
He managed a smile. “About what, dear?”
“About the wedding. Should we have it in Washington, D.C., or Philadelphia?”
He blinked. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.” She looked annoyed. “Now it all depends on whether you stay in the army or not, as to whether you wear a dress uniform or I have Uncle Walt's tailor make you a fine broadcloth suit.”
“I haven't given it much thought.” He sighed and looked ahead toward the river. This was going to be a long afternoon.
“Goodness gracious, Mama will want to know soon. Putting on a giant wedding takes almost a year of planning, you know.”
He looked at her, puzzled. “Why would it take a year? Most folks just step up in front of a parson and it's done. Then there's maybe a little cake and punch—”
“You aren't serious?” She looked at him as if she didn't know whether to laugh or burst into tears.
He didn't want to fuss with her so he just shrugged. “I don't know anything about plannin' weddin's, Olivia. Most men don't. I reckon I'll just leave that up to you.”
She smiled triumphantly. “Good. I've been looking at all the copies I have of Godey's
Lady's Book
, but of course they are old, and probably out of style and who knows where one can buy real French lace around here, so I'll have Mama send to Paris and—”
Colt disappeared back into his own thoughts. In his mind, he had stepped forward in that little shack and taken Hannah into his arms and kissed her, really kissed her.
“We're here,” Olivia announced, taking a breath from prattling on and on about French lace and wedding cakes.
Colt came out of his thoughts with a start. “Of course.” He reined in, stepped down, and came around to help Olivia from her horse. She looked up at him as if she expected him to steal a kiss, but he had no desire to kiss that perfect mouth. Instead, he began to untie the picnic basket.
“I brought a blanket, too,” she said and walked ahead of him to the placid river under the shade of the big live oak trees.
“I've got it.” He followed her with the blanket and the basket as she picked a spot. He spread the blanket and sat down while she dug into the basket.
“Darling, would you like some wine?”
He nodded. He needed a little courage for what he was about to do. He must be out of his mind. Every officer on the post considered the major's daughter a catch, and they all wanted to marry her, she was so beautiful.
“Now,” she said and handed him a glass of wine. “The reason I need to know whether you are staying in the service or not is I thought a military wedding would be lovely, and if we had it in Washington, Mama could invite all sorts of important people—why, maybe even the president.”
“The president?” Colt sipped the wine. It was a dark red burgundy and delicious.
“Of course, silly.” She smiled at him. “You know, if there is a war, and everyone says there will be, you'll be right there, knowing all the best people, and you'll get promoted fast, not like Daddy, who insists on staying out on the frontier where the upper echelon has forgotten all about him and he'll never get past major.”
He was beginning to understand why the major drank, he thought, if Olivia's mother was anything like her daughter.
“Washington? You'd want to live in Washington?” Such a thing had never entered his mind.
“If you stay in the service”—she nodded—”you'd rise fast, maybe even to general and there'd be all sorts of cotillions and balls to attend. You'd be so handsome with all that gold braid and medals on your chest.”
He looked at her, thinking she was more shallow and petty than he had realized. “Olivia, if there's a war, it will be horrible—men killed, towns sacked and burned, children left fatherless—”
“Oh, but we'll be in Washington and you won't have to take part in any of that.” She laid out tiny beef sandwiches on pretty flowered plates.
“Suppose I don't want to reenlist?” he asked and poured himself another glass of wine.
“Oh, that's all right, too, darling.” She handed him a plate with a hand that was so perfectly manicured.
“Olivia, do you know how to iron?” He said it without thinking.
“Iron? Iron what?” She looked baffled.
“Clothes. Have you ever ironed a shirt in your life?” In his mind, he saw Hannah, perspiration on her tanned forehead as she labored over a shirt.
“Are you joking, Colton, dear? Of course I don't know how to iron or do laundry or any of those mundane things. I have servants to do things like that. Now, I can speak French and do watercolor paintings and play the spinet.”
“None of those seem too practical on the Texas frontier,” he said and picked up a sandwich.
“Texas?” She wrinkled her nose. “Goodness gracious, I can hardly wait to leave here. I thought it would be interesting, but it's just a big prairie with wild horses and hostile Indians.”
“Texans love the Lone Star State,” he said and poured himself another glass of wine. “They wouldn't live any place else.”
She laughed. “I love it when you joke, Colton, dear. I thought if you didn't reenlist, Uncle Ned, Mama's brother, would find a good spot for you in one of the family businesses. We could live in the best part of town and you'd work in an office and go to the club with Mama's brothers. Just think how business will boom if a war starts. We manufacture iron and steel, you know.”
“For cannons and guns?” He looked at her. She was so beautiful, such pale skin that had never been out toiling in the hot sun, such soft hands that had never done a minute's work in her whole life. He saw her as she really was: a doll, a beautiful fashion doll with no brains and no interests except clothes and high society.
“It's too bad you didn't go to West Point,” Olivia sighed, “but no one needs to know that. You know, Mama's father got Daddy into West Point, but he never really fit into their family.”
“I'm afraid I won't either,” Colt said and ate his sandwich, understanding now why the major stayed out on the frontier.
“Oh, but of course you will, silly. When we go back East, I'll hire someone to teach you etiquette and how to dress and we'll join the best clubs. Uncle Ned can use his influence to—”
“You got this all thought out without ever once consultin' me?” He was growing angry.
“Well, it never occurred to me that you wouldn't go along with—”
“Olivia.” He tried to keep his voice from rising. “Texas men are used to making decisions. You should have asked me what I thought. Whether I stay in the army or not, I never intend to leave Texas. I love it here.”
“What? Why? Why would you even consider staying in a rough, uncivilized state?” Her big brown eyes had turned an angry dark.
“Because maybe I'm a rough, uncivilized Texan,” he fired back. “You know, Olivia, I think maybe we need to end this engagement. Maybe we aren't right for each other.”
She was huffing with indignation. “How dare you? Why, everyone wants to marry me, and I chose you—”
“I'm sorry, Olivia, but I've changed my mind. I don't think we're suited to each other at all.”
Out came the lace hankie and the big tears. “Boo hooo, what will people say? I'll be humiliated.”
“I will be a gentleman,” he assured her. “I will tell everyone you broke the engagement because you decided I was an uncivilized lout and not up to your high standards.”
She was sobbing into her hankie. Colt felt like a terrible villain for breaking her heart, and yet he had a sudden feeling of freedom and relief. Sometimes a man ought to look beyond a beautiful face.
Abruptly he heard the sound of a galloping horse and grabbed for his pistol. But it was a blue uniform in a light buggy rattling over the horizon from the direction of the fort.
The private reined in, got down, and saluted. “Sir. Miss Murphy. Sorry to disturb your picnic, Lieutenant, but Major Murphy wants you back at the fort.”
Colt stood up and saluted, feeling relief. Any excuse was a good one to leave this awkward scene. “What is it, Private?”
“There's a man in the major's office, and the major thinks you need to come right now.”
Olivia was already gathering up the picnic stuff and blanket.
Colt was mystified. “A man? Who—?”
“His name is Luther Brownley and he's here about his wife.”
Colt's heart fell. Somehow he'd hoped Hannah's husband would never show up. “Private, would you help Miss Murphy gather up our picnic things so I can get back right away?”

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