Colt (17 page)

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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: Colt
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Before she could protest, Colt grabbed him from behind, whirled Luther around, and hit him in the mouth. The two went tumbling out onto the porch.
Colt couldn't remember much of anything except the red rage that enveloped him when he saw the farmer raise his fist as if to strike Hannah. He had saved her from the Comanches and he sure as hell didn't mean to have some white man to hurt her now, even if he was her husband.
They tumbled out onto the porch, where Colt grabbed him again and threw Brownley off into the dust in front of the tiny cabin. Then Colt landed on top of him, hitting him in the mouth until blood mingled with the brown tobacco juice that ran down his beet-red face.
Behind him, he heard Travis crying and Hannah yelling, “Stop, Colt! Stop! You'll get in trouble!”
“I don't give a damn! It's worth it!” Colt stumbled to his feet, hauling Brownley to his, noting the fine coat was now covered with dust and chicken droppings.
Brownley came at him, cursing, but Colt dodged the blow easily. In the background, he saw people gathering to watch, soldiers running and even Olivia and the messenger driving up in the light buggy. She looked horrified.
They were fighting in front of Brownley's fine rig now, and Colt hit the farmer again, knocking him down and under the fine gray horse's legs. It reared, startled, as the two men rolled around in the dirt under its hooves.
He took Brownley by the coat collar and dragged him to his feet. “You mean bastard! Get out of here and don't ever come back!”
Then he grabbed him like a sack of potatoes and threw him up on the buggy seat.
“I'll get the law on you!” Brownley waved his fist from the fancy rig. Colt started up into the buggy after him, but one of the other officers grabbed his arm.
Olivia was suddenly on his other side, pulling at his coat sleeve. “Darling, are you out of your mind? You can get court-martialed for this!”
“I don't give a damn!” Colt shook free of her and tried to shake free of the other officer. He realized then that his arm wound was throbbing and probably bleeding again.
There was a large crowd gathered in a circle to watch and more coming all the time, but Colt didn't care. He wanted to kill the farmer for the way he had treated Hannah.
Hannah ran up just then, grabbed Colt's arm. “Don't hit him again, Colt. Let him go.” She turned to Brownley. “Here's your paper. I signed it and good riddance to you.”
“Now I can go back to my respectable wife,” Brownley snarled, wiping the blood from his mouth, and clutching the paper, “and be glad I ain't still hitched to a Comanche buck's whore!”
A gasp from the crowd as Colt went after him again, trying to drag him down from the buggy, but Brownley, clutching the crumpled paper, backed his rig away from the hitching post and took off down the dusty road toward the front gate.
Colt tried to go after him. “I'll kill the son of a bitch!” But two officers held him back and now Olivia was holding onto his sleeve again. “Colton, have you lost your mind? This is no way for an officer to behave.”
Behind him, he heard Hannah's soft voice. “Let him go, Colt. There's been enough trouble.”
There was a murmur through the crowd as he took a deep breath and looked past Olivia's beautiful face to Hannah's blue eyes. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and picked up her toddler. Any other woman would have been weeping and hysterical by now, he thought, but she only had a small muscle near her mouth twitching and he saw her fist clench.
It was Olivia who was crying like a fountain. “Oh, Colton, dear. You're going to be in trouble for this. Couldn't you just have let him go?”
“No, I couldn't.” Colt took a deep breath and the officers let go of his arms. He stood there, brushing the dust off his uniform. His wounded arm throbbed hard.
The officers shooed the curious crowd away. “All right, there's nothing more to see, folks. Everyone should go home.”
Hannah started to say something to Colt, then turned and carried her toddler back into her cabin.
Olivia looked up at him, wiping her eyes. “Colton, sometimes I think I don't know you at all. What got into you, meddling in someone's personal business like this?”
“You wouldn't understand, Olivia,” he sighed and dusted his coat off, strode back to his quarters, leaving her standing there by the messenger's buggy, looking humiliated. He was in trouble all right, maybe facing court-martial or at least discipline from the major. He didn't give a damn. Seeing that blood smeared on Brownley's face and the chicken shit all over his fine coat had made whatever punishment he got worth it.
It wasn't long in coming.
Colt was ordered to report to the major's office. When he got there, the major looked up and sighed. “At ease, Lieutenant.”
Colt obeyed, realizing for the first time that he still had dust on his coat and his sleeve was torn.
Major Murphy said, “By Saint Mary's blood, what am I to do with you? You attacked a civilian?”
“He was mistreatin' Hannah,” Colt said.
“And as a lieutenant in the U.S. Second Cavalry, that was your business why?”
Colt felt the flush creeping up his face. “Because she's a helpless woman, and since I rescued her, I feel responsible for her.”
“And nothing more?” The major leaned back in his chair and surveyed Colt.
What could he say? The major probably thought Colt was still engaged to his daughter. “Well, sir, it's this way—”
“Never mind. I don't want to hear it.” The major gave him a dismissing wave of his hand. “You created a public scene, brawling like a hooligan in the dirt with a civilian with half the post watching.”
Colt didn't answer.
“I'll have to punish you as an example to the others,” the major said, “so you're confined to quarters for a week. I'd do more, but you're one of my favorite officers, Lieutenant. You almost remind me of myself before ... never mind. Now get out of here, and next time, I'll break you in rank.”
“Yes, sir.” Colt saluted and left the office. Now what was he to do? There would be patrols going out against the Comanches and they really needed his expertise. This trouble was his own fault, but he would do it over again. No man was going to mistreat a woman while Colt Prescott was around.
The grounds were quiet now, and he decided to stop by Hannah's cabin on the way back to his quarters.
“Hannah? Are you here?”
She came out of the back room. “I just put Travis down for a nap. Thank you for what you did. Are you in trouble over it?”
“A little bit,” he admitted. “Confined to quarters for a week. Are you okay?”
She bit her lip and didn't look at him. “I'm embarrassed over the ruckus it caused, but I'm relieved not to be married to Luther anymore.”
“I hate the way he talked to you.”
“I'm used to it.” She shrugged. “At least this time, he didn't hit me, thanks to you.”
He stepped closer and she looked up at him. She looked so slender and vulnerable. Without thinking, he took her small face between his two big hands. Her skin was so warm and tender and her eyes as blue as Texas bluebonnets in the springtime. Her lips were slightly parted, and he leaned down and kissed her very gently.
Her soft lips trembled under his and for a moment, he thought she would come into his arms so he could hold her close against him and protect her forever from anyone or anything that might harm her, but Hannah pulled away from him. “Did you think fighting for me gives you the right to bed me?”
“No, Hannah, I'm sorry.” He stepped back and realized she was trembling, whether from emotion or rage, he couldn't be sure. “I kissed you without thinkin'.”
“I think you'd better leave now.” Her voice was cold. “Your fiancée might not like the idea of your being here.”
He started to apologize again, then realized it would do no good. He started out the door, turned, and looked back at her. “Hannah, I promise I meant no insult.”
She didn't say anything, only looked at him, disappointment in those blue eyes.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered and strode off her porch and toward his own quarters. So Hannah thought he was trying to claim her body as a prize. To the victor go the spoils. He'd made a mess of things. “What else can go wrong?” he whispered and then realized Olivia stood near the major's office, and judging by her angry face, she had seen him come out of Hannah's cabin.
Chapter 12
He merely touched the tips of his fingers against the brim of his hat by way of greeting and kept on walking toward his quarters, which meant he would have to pass her.
However, he could see in her angry face that Olivia didn't intend to let him get past her without conflict. She caught his sleeve. “How dare you!”
“Miss Olivia,” he said softly, “I don't think we should make a public scene.”
“A public scene?” Her voice rose to an unladylike screech. “A public scene? After you behaved like a common soldier while half the people at this fort saw you brawling and rolling around in the dirt? What are you trying to do? Humiliate me?”
He tried to placate her. “Olivia, it had nothin' to do with you. You are so much more refined than I am and you deserve better. I'll tell everyone you broke up with me.”
“Don't you dare! I haven't even told my father yet. As far as everyone at this fort is concerned, we are still engaged.”
“You don't want a man who is often in as much trouble as I am, Olivia. I'm sorry if I've hurt you, but I'm afraid I can't be the man you want.”
She burst into tears and was still weeping loudly as he brushed past her and strode to his quarters. He slammed the door and flopped down on his bunk. Damn it. He'd made a mess of things with two women. He was an officer, but he was still behaving like some wild cowboy. Maybe he needed to give up on relationships and go back to whores on a drunken Saturday night. But that's not what he wanted. He wanted a love that he could call his own waking up beside him every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted kids and a life in Texas. It dawned on him then that what he really wanted was Hannah. But she didn't seem to believe he wanted anything but a roll in the hay. He shouldn't have kissed her, knowing her past with men. He should have waited.
 
Hannah had straightened the overturned furniture, given Travis a sandwich, and put him in the back room to play when she heard a knock on her front screen. She took a deep breath as she realized when she went around to open it, that it was Miss Murphy. “Yes?”
“We need to talk.” The major's daughter opened the screen and without an invitation, came inside.
Hannah caught the other girl's mood and stiffened. “About what?”
“Oh, you know about what.” The pretty brunette bristled. “You just caused a public scene and got Lieutenant Prescott in trouble.”
“I didn't mean to,” Hannah said. “It all just happened.”
“And somehow, my Colton just came running to get in a fight like some knight of old?”
Hannah shrugged. “He was out on the porch, and I guess he could tell things weren't going well.”
“Well, now he's in trouble for the second time over you,” Olivia snapped. “Mrs. Brownley, you have brought a lot of conflict to this army post. What are your plans for the future?”
“I don't know. I don't see how I can leave.” Hannah decided she must control her temper. “I have little money and as you know by now, my husband only came here to get my signature on divorce papers.”
“You shouldn't set your sights on my fiancé,” Olivia said. “Everyone is talking and it may keep him from getting promoted.”
“I have not set my sights on the lieutenant,” Hannah said, “and I wouldn't do anything to harm his career. Now, Miss Murphy, if you're leaving, I've got more laundry to do.”
“Are you dismissing me?” Olivia's patrician nostrils flared.
She must not slap her; that would only bring more trouble. “I thought you had said everything you needed to say.” Hannah tried to keep her voice even, while gritting her teeth.
“Did I make myself clear?” Olivia snapped.
“Yes, you did.” Hannah stepped around her and went to the screen, held it open. “Good-bye, Miss Murphy.”
“I am engaged to marry Colton and don't you forget it!” Olivia turned on her heel and marched out the door.
Hannah slammed it behind her. It had been all she could do not to slap the snooty socialite. That would only make things worse for her and Travis, she realized as she returned to her ironing. She had to add more money to her small stash, or she could never leave the fort. Either that or marry someone who would take her away.
Marry. Yes, that would solve her problem. But who? Although there was a shortage of women in Texas, there was no one at the fort that she could even imagine sharing a life and a bed with. In fact, the thought made her shudder. No one but Colt Prescott, and he was engaged. Plus he was already in trouble since he had come to Hannah's defense. She thought about it while she ironed and decided there was no man available who could take her away from here. It was up to her to solve her own problem.
When Travis tired of playing with the toy horse Colt had carved, she took her little boy out to her garden, picked some fresh tomatoes and lettuce, and walked over to the sutler's store. On the way, she passed several white women. She spoke to each politely, but they turned their heads and ignored her.
The sutler's store smelled like tobacco, spices, and pickles. “Mr. Hutton?”
The owner came out of the back room. Hutton always needed a haircut and shave and his shirt was usually soiled. She gave him her warmest smile. “I brought some of the produce from my garden. Do you want to buy it?”
The look he gave her made her want to button up the neck of her frayed dress even more. “Vegetables, huh? Yeah, I think I could sell them. Most of these settlers are too busy or don't have the knack for growing their own.”
She laid the vegetables on the counter. “I might also be willing to wash and iron your shirts in trade for a few things like coffee and some of that peppermint candy you have in the counter there.”
“Hmm, might be a good idea.” He scratched himself and leaned over to peer down at her son. “Little redskin likes candy, huh?”
“His name is Travis,” she said firmly.
Mr. Hutton laughed. “Looks like a redskin to me. All right, Mrs. Brownley, I'll buy your vegetables and you can do my shirts.” He looked at her closely. “I heard there was some trouble at your place a couple of hours ago.”
Hannah felt her face burn. The whole fort must be talking about it. “It was a personal matter.”
“Well, now you got no man, is that right?”
She nodded and then spoke, keeping her voice cold. “I don't need a man, Mr. Hutton. Travis and I are managing fine, thank you. I'll take my money for the vegetables now.”
He went over to the small cash register and opened it, handed her a few coins. “That enough?”
She looked at the money in her hand and stared at him. “Now you know it isn't.”
He laughed and handed her another dollar. “Gotta hand it to you, you stand your ground better'n most women. Comes from dealin' with the Comanche, I reckon.”
She didn't answer, but took the money, grasped her son's hand, and went outside. Sooner or later, she might have trouble with Mr. Hutton, as with dozens of other men at this fort who thought any woman who had belonged to a Comanche buck was no better than a whore. At least she had found a way to build up her small stash of coins. What else could she do to earn money so she could leave? When she would leave or where she would go, she had no idea, but she had to have money to do anything.
After dark, she put Travis to bed and changed into an old nightgown of Olivia's. It was faded and too short for Hannah, but of the softest embroidered lawn. It was a warm night and she opened the windows, but she locked the front and back doors in case some drunken soldier tried to get in.
She had barely blown out her lamp and climbed into bed when she heard a noise outside her window and froze, reaching for the butcher knife she kept on the bedside table.
“Who's there?”
“Hannah, it's me, Colt.”
“What do you want?”
“That's a fine way to thank me for steppin' in and helpin' you today.”
She was immediately chagrined. “I'm sorry. What is it you want?”
“I was just checkin' to make sure you're all right.”
“Aren't you supposed to be confined to quarters?”
“Yes, but the guard went to sleep and I sneaked out the window. Let me in before someone sees me and reports it.”
She wanted to let him in, wanted him to kiss her again, but she remembered Olivia's beautiful, angry face. “Go away. You're engaged to the major's daughter.”
“I broke up with her.”
“That's not what she says.”
He cleared his throat and she could imagine him weighing his words. “Believe me, Hannah, I broke the engagement.”
She wanted to believe him; but she was still suspicious of men. “What is it you want?”
“I—I don't know, but I wanted to apologize for kissin' you this afternoon.”
She relived it for a moment—the warmth of his big hands on her face, the taste of his mouth. “It's all right.”
“No, it isn't. I should have asked your permission.”
She was abruptly angry with him. “That's okay. You're like the other soldiers; you figure I've been a redskin's woman, I might as well let any white man have me now that my husband doesn't want me back.”
“You know me better than that.”
She took a deep breath, thinking the kiss had been sweet and gentle.
“Hannah, let me in so we can talk. I'd hate it if that's what you really believed about me.”
She was torn between what Colt was saying and what Olivia had said. And yet she owed this man for saving her from her ex-husband. “Come around and I'll open the door, but you really should go back to your quarters before someone finds out you're missing.”
“Speakin' of findin' out, the sentry is walking this way.”
“Quick, come around.” She flew through the darkened cabin and unlocked the door. The big Texan slipped in and closed it behind him.
Why had she let him in? She knew this could only mean trouble for them both, and she wasn't some cheap tart to slip around with some other woman's man.
Colt stood there, all tall and muscular in the moonlight that filtered through the window. Hannah was abruptly aware that she wore nothing except a sheer lawn nightgown that was certainly almost transparent. “Colt, you need to leave. I don't know why I let you in.”
“You know as well as I do, Hannah. I've thought of nothin' else but you since I rescued you.” He took a step forward.
“What about Olivia?”
“I swear to you that I don't care for her.”
She wanted to believe that, wanted to believe that he really cared about her and wasn't just needing a woman to slake his lust. “I—I think you need to go.”
“If you want me to.” He half turned toward the door and she took a step forward, put her hand on his arm.
“I—I haven't thanked you for what you did this afternoon. I think Luther would have hit me.”
“No man beats a woman while I'm around.”
“Well, thank you anyway. I'm afraid I've gotten you in serious trouble.”
“It's not your fault,” he insisted. “Hannah, you deserve better than that. You deserve a man who will really love you—”
“And which one could forget I've been a redskin's whore for the past four years?” she asked, her voice bitter.
At that, he turned and took her in his arms very gently. “You're brave and beautiful and strong,” he whispered. “A Texas woman, that's what you are.” And he kissed her very gently, his mouth soft and warm on hers.
Her heart hammered and she clung to him, wanting him, wanting to belong, wanting the security of a strong man's arms—wanting Colt. She pressed her body close to his, knowing he could feel every inch of her through the sheer lawn nightgown. Hannah let her mouth open and he kissed the inside of her lips, touching her tongue lightly with his own. She felt his manhood rise up hard and throbbing against her belly. She wanted him in a way she had never wanted a man before. Hannah had been used by two different men, but neither had cared about her feelings or her needs as she hoped this one did. At this moment, she didn't care if Colt took her here on the floor like some slut in a saloon as long as he held her close and kissed her lips and whispered soft words.
His hand went to her breast and she didn't protest, wanting his big, callused palm on her nipple, wanting him to stroke her body, wanting him to take her.
She heard a slight whimper and jerked away to see a sleepy Travis standing in the doorway. “Mama?”
Colt froze and she turned toward her child. “What—what is it, honey?”

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