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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: Colt
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“Well?” Olivia said. “Lieutenant, aren't you going to pull out my chair for me?”
“Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss Olivia.” Colt hurriedly pulled out her chair, and the dark beauty sat down with a rustle of fine petticoats.
The girl stared at the sandwiches. Colt saw Doc slip a pill into her cup of coffee as he poured. Then Hannah reached out and grabbed a sandwich off the tray and began to wolf it down.
“Well!” said Olivia. “What atrocious manners.”
The girl continued to wolf her sandwich and gulp her coffee as the two men watched in pity.
Doc reached out and patted her hand. “There's plenty more, Mrs. Brownley.”
Colt said, “Sometimes in a Comanche camp, the food gets pretty thin for the whole tribe.”
Olivia looked around the table. “Oh, dear, are there no napkins?”
Doc said, “I'm so sorry, Miss Murphy, I forget about how ladies are.” He turned to the maid. “There's some on the table by the stove.”
The stout, silent girl went off to get them.
In the meantime, Hannah wiped her hands on her skirt and reached for another sandwich and gulped the last of her coffee.
In a moment, the maid was back with the napkins and the others started to eat. Colt tried not to wolf his food, suddenly very conscious of his manners in front of the genteel Olivia. No one had ever taught him how a gentleman dines, and he had a feeling Olivia was watching with disapproval.
Hannah was finished before the others. The doctor poured her another cup of coffee and put a piece of gingerbread on her plate. He offered her a fork, but she had already picked up the cake with her hands and tasted it. “Gingerbread.” She smiled.
Colt found himself smiling back at her. “I'll wager you haven't had any gingerbread for a long time.”
“She's eating it with her hands,” Olivia gasped in a shocked whisper.
Hannah hesitated, looked embarrassed and uncertain.
Doc said, “Look, I eat mine with my hands, too.” He picked up the gingerbread and took a bite. Colt followed suit while Olivia gasped and primly helped herself to the gingerbread and ate it with her fork.
Hannah finished her gingerbread and reached for the last sandwich. She wrapped it carefully in the cloth napkin.
Colt said, “There's plenty. You don't have to squirrel food away.”
She looked at him. “I take it with me when I go.”
Colt sighed and looked over at Doc.
Olivia said, “I do believe she's daft.”
Hannah's eyes gradually closed, and then she jerked awake. Doc's medicine was beginning to work, Colt thought.
“Here, Miss Hannah, wouldn't you like to bring your sandwich and sit on this bed?” Colt asked, standing up.
“No, I'm going now.” She yawned and tried to stand up, but her legs gave out from under her and Colt caught her as she fell, took the sandwich from her hand, and carried her over and laid her on a bed.
“Doc, I think I'd better tie one of her wrists to the bed, otherwise, she'll take off.”
“Do that. It'll be dawn soon and then there'll be other people to deal with her.”
“Well,” Olivia said, “I think my maid and I will be retiring now. I've got to get into some dry clothes before I catch a chill. My delicate constitution can't take being wet.”
“We all appreciate your help.” Colt looked up from tying Hannah's wrist to the iron bedstead.
“Well, she certainly didn't appreciate it.” Olivia glared at the sleeping girl. “And I was trying to do my Christian duty. Why, my mother would have gotten the vapors if she could have seen me on my knees by that tub, trying to scrub that pitiful thing.”
“And I'm sure she appreciates it,” Doc said. “Now you and your maid can return to your quarters.”
Olivia and her maid left with a whirl of skirts and a door slam.
Colt sighed. Dealing with a real lady was more trouble than he'd bargained for. “Doc, I think I'll sit outside on the porch, just in case Mrs. Brownley gets loose again.”
“Do you think that's likely?”
“She's survived almost four years in a Comanche camp. She's pretty plucky and tough for a girl.”
Doc nodded and went back through the door to his quarters.
Colt looked down at Hannah. The lines in her suntanned face had smoothed out and she looked younger and without care. Her dress was too short and it showed her ankles and her bare feet. She had tiny feet, but they looked like they had carried her a long way, mostly without shoes or moccasins. The Comanches were a mobile people who moved often, following herds of buffalo.
Colt put the precious sandwich back in her palm and she clutched it to her in her sleep. Remembering his own time among the tribe, he knew food was precious. Life among the plains tribes was hard and getting worse because of the white man's encroachment on their lands. He wondered again why she wanted so badly to return to the Indian camp and how long it would take before Luther Brownley would show up to reclaim his reluctant wife.
Colt spread a blanket over the sleeping girl and went outside, sat down, and leaned against a post and smoked a cigarette, thinking about his own life among the Comanche and whether he wanted to stay in the army. His enlistment would be up in mid-June. Finally he dropped off to sleep.
 
In the middle of the night, Hannah awoke with a start, tried to remember where she was and what had happened. Then she realized she was tied by one wrist. She tucked her precious sandwich into her bodice and began to chew on her bindings. It was almost dawn when she had chewed through the ropes that bound her. Now she could escape.
Chapter 3
By the time Hannah managed to chew through the rope and free herself, it was coming dawn. She looked through the window and saw that tall lieutenant who had captured her sitting asleep against a post on the porch.
The whole fort was starting to stir, men crossing the parade grounds, the bugle sounding, the flag raising. She wouldn't have a chance of getting away right now, but she had to get back to the Comanche camp.
What to do? Hannah thought a minute. If she could convince all these white people that she was trustworthy and grateful, they would begin to trust her. In a day or so, she would be able to escape under cover of darkness because they wouldn't be expecting it.
She heard stirring from Doc's quarters and she got up and went to sit at the table. Doc came in just then, yawning and scratching his bald head and the fringe of white hair surrounding it. “Oh, are you up, young lady? How did you—?”
“It was hurting.” She looked down at her wrist, which still had shreds of rope on it. “I feel better now.”
“Good. I'm glad you seem to have come to your senses. I know you have been through a terrible ordeal.” His accent was clipped and sounded strange to the Texas girl. He must have come from farther north.
She had to think a minute to come up with English words. She had spoken nothing but Comanche for so long. “I—I was afraid last night, not sure what had happened.”
He nodded and smiled. “I'll start us some coffee and bacon.”
“Thank you, but I have my sandwich from last night.” She nodded toward the leftover she had laid on her bedside table.
“Never mind. I'll throw that away and get you some biscuits and gravy. I'm pretty good in the kitchen. My wife died years ago and I had to learn.”
As he turned away, Hannah said, “The lieutenant is still sitting outside asleep.”
“Oh? I'll invite him in to share.” Doc went to the door and opened it. “Good morning, Lieutenant. We're starting some breakfast. Care to join us?”
Past Doc's shoulder, she saw the big, dark-haired officer come awake with a start, and he stood up, moving as if he was stiff and sore. “Oh, hell, Doc. How's our captive?”
“Completely different this morning. Come on in.”
She smiled at the tall soldier as he blinked at her. He had black hair and green eyes and a deep tan. He came inside and shut the door behind him, stared at her. “How did you—?”
“It hurt my arm.” She shrugged and rubbed her wrist.
Doc said, “Dag nab it, I'll go get some coffee going, you two can talk.” He left the room and went back to his quarters.
She felt the awkward silence.
The lieutenant cleared his throat. “How are you?”
She paused a moment, fishing for the English words. “All right now. Last night, I was not sure what was happening. Thank you for rescuing me.”
He seemed to sigh in relief. “That's all right. I lived with the Comanche myself for ten years and was adopted into the tribe. I know what you've been through.”
She winced, remembering Spider's brutality. “I'd rather not talk about it.”
“That's right.” He nodded. “You've got to look forward, not behind you, now that you're back among your own people again.”
She smelled coffee coming from Doc's quarters and heard him bustling around, banging pans. “What—what will happen to me now?”
He walked over and looked down at her with understanding and pity in those green eyes. “I reckon the major has already sent out messengers tryin' to locate your husband. Until he comes for you, I reckon you can just stay at the fort.”
She turned away so he couldn't see her face. “I don't think my husband will want me back, since, well, you know.”
He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He'll want you back.” His voice was soft and compassionate, a Texas drawl. “No matter what happened to you, it wasn't your fault and he'll understand that.”
“You don't know Luther.” She turned around and looked up at him. She was tall, but she had to look up into his rugged, tanned face. If only she'd met a man like this one when she was desperate and running away from home.
“Then he's a fool—a damned fool.” His face flushed and he stepped away from her. “Maybe you'll think different when you see him. That is, if they find him. A lot of things may have happened in four years. He may have left Texas or even be dead.”
“So then what will happen to me?” She looked at him.
“I don't know. You're free now. You can do whatever you want.”
“But if he does come for me ...” She couldn't keep the tension out of her voice, remembering her husband's cruelty and his vain attempts to break her spirit.
“If you don't want to go with him, you won't have to. I'll see to that.”
“Thank you.” She didn't intend to be here if Luther showed up. She'd be gone by then, back to the Comanche camp. Being Spider's woman was no worse than being Luther's. Anyway, she had no choice; she had to return to the camp. “I trust your word.”
He flushed and looked awkward, a Texas man not used to dealing with women. “Let's see if Doc has that coffee ready, and maybe later, Olivia can find you some shoes.”
“Olivia?” She couldn't remember who that was.
“You know, the real pretty dark-haired girl who helped you last night and gave you a dress.”
“Oh, yes, her.” Hannah remembered the short-tempered girl who had tried to duck her head under water. From the lieutenant's tone, he thought Olivia was wonderful. Of course the petite girl was beautiful and Hannah wasn't. Men set a lot of store by beauty.
Doc came into the room just then carrying a metal coffeepot and three cups. “Here we go. You two sit down and I'll get the food.”
“Can I help?” Hannah asked. She liked Doc.
“No, thanks. I can manage, young lady. You just sit down.”
Dutifully Hannah sat down at the table while the officer picked up the big pot and poured the steaming brew.
She took deep breaths of the bracing scent. “We didn't get much coffee in the camp.”
“I know.” He pushed the sugar bowl toward her. “Or sugar either.”
Sugar. White sugar. She grabbed a spoon and heaped it into her cup, stirred and stirred. She picked up the cup and sipped it, closed her eyes, and smiled. “It's the little things you really miss.”
When she opened her eyes, the officer was sipping his coffee and staring at her with compassion. “Mrs. Brownley, you'll finally get past all this and it will be just a painful memory that will gradually fade.”
“Call me Hannah, please,” she whispered. “I don't like being called Mrs. Brownley.”
“All right. And I am Colton Prescott. Most folks call me Colt.”
“It fits you,” she thought aloud. “Anyway, I'm much obliged that you risked your life for me.”
He blushed. “It's my job, ma'am. Most women would have been cryin' their eyes out, but not you.”
She shook her head. “I haven't cried in many years, not since ... I found it does no good.” She didn't want to think about Luther's beatings and the loss of her little son. Life with Spider had been a nightmare of constant rape. Spider's other wife, jealous of Hannah, never missed a chance to mistreat her or pile work on her. Yet Hannah had to get back to the Comanche camp.
Doc came in just then with a big platter of biscuits and gravy, bacon and jam, put the platter on the table. “Here you go. Even got some sand plum jam as a special treat.”
Lieutenant Prescott grinned. “Been a coon's age since I've seen sand plum jam. You want some, Mrs... . Hannah?”
She swallowed hard. She had been picking sand plums the day she was carried off by the Comanche while her cowardly husband dropped the rifle and ran over old women and small children, saving his own cowardly hide. “I—I don't think so, thank you.”
“But why?” Doc began, looking puzzled. The lieutenant seemed to see the look on her face because he shook his head at Doc.
She looked down at her plate and began to eat. “It's good. I haven't had a biscuit in a long time.”
Doc grinned. “You just enjoy those, ma'am.”
“I want to work,” she said to him. “I don't want to be a burden.”
“Dag nab it, you're not a burden,” Doc answered. “You're providing a little company for an old geezer who's mighty tired of looking at scruffy soldier boys all day.”
“Then maybe I can help around the infirmary,” she suggested.
“Now that would be good,” Doc said.
They finished eating in silence, and then the front door opened and the beautiful Olivia, in a fine blue dress, entered. “So how is our patient today?”
Both men scrambled to their feet. Hannah kept her head down while Doc said, “She seems to be fine this morning. Would you like some coffee, Miss Murphy?”
“Not if I have to drink it out of a tin cup,” Olivia laughed. “Honestly, Doc, I need to bring you some of my china.”
“Aw, the soldiers would just break it,” Doc said.
“Do sit down.” Olivia waved the men back to their chairs. Now she looked directly at Hannah. She smiled, but her eyes were not smiling. “I do hope you are enjoying my dress.”
“Yes, thank you very much. It was kind of you,” Hannah said, stroking the faded blue fabric.
The lieutenant looked at the pretty Olivia with adoration is his eyes. “Sit down, Miss Olivia.” He jumped up and hurried to get her a chair.
The major's daughter took it like a princess sitting down on a regal throne. She smiled back at the officer, but to Hannah, the smile looked fake.
No one else seemed to notice. Instead, the lieutenant leaned toward her and said, “Miss Olivia, our rescued lady is still barefooted, except for worn-out moccasins. Maybe you have some extra shoes?”
“Of course. We don't want her barefooted when her husband comes for her. He will be coming, won't he?” It was almost a challenge.
Doc nodded. “I understand your father is sending out riders trying to find him.”
“Good.” Olivia purred and then she fastened all her attention on the officer. “Colton, are we still going horseback riding this afternoon?”
And now it dawned on Hannah. The lovely Olivia saw Hannah as a rival for the men's attention.
The lieutenant smiled at Olivia, evidently charmed by her beauty. “Of course, unless the major has duties for me to take care of.”
“Oh, I think he'll give everyone on the patrol a day off. He's so pleased with the raid. I tell you what, I'll go get Mrs. Brownley a pair of shoes and then I'll pack a picnic for this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Hannah said dutifully. She was beginning to dislike the major's beautiful daughter.
However, the lieutenant smiled at Olivia as if she were the only girl in the world. “That sounds wonderful, but we can't get too far from the fort.”
“Goodness gracious, I'm not afraid when I have a big, strong man like you protecting me.” Olivia stood up suddenly and both men knocked their chairs over standing up.
Such was the power of great beauty
, Hannah thought.
Olivia gave both men a dazzling smile, turned in a swirl of blue skirts and petticoats, and went out the door.
The lieutenant looked after her with a sigh. “Isn't she the sweetest thing and the most beautiful girl in all Texas?”
Not plain like me
, Hannah thought, but she didn't say anything except, “You seem to be quite taken with her, Lieutenant Prescott.”
“From the first time I met her.” He smiled. “She's so pretty, she takes my breath away. Reckon I'd better be seein' to my men.” He stood up. “Thanks for the breakfast, Doc, and I'm glad you're fine this mornin', Miss Hannah.”
He turned and went out the door.
Doc said, “Did I detect some tension between you and the major's daughter?”
“Not at all.” Doc was too quick-witted, she thought, and noticed too much. “I am properly grateful for the clothes.”
“I notice the dress she brought you was very faded, almost ragged,” Doc said, “and she owns so many beautiful gowns.”
Hannah didn't say anything. Doc could be a good friend, but she didn't intend to be here past tonight. When it turned dark, Hannah intended to steal a horse and escape the fort.
She got up and began to clear the table. “I'll wash up, Doc. I imagine you'll have patients coming in this morning.”

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