The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1) (16 page)

“
It’s nothing.”

“
Yes, it is,” he ground out. “Allison, will you just tell me what I did or said that made you go cold?” Before he’d even finished that sentence, he had his answer: she didn’t believe him earlier when he’d told her that she’d be his last conquest, in addition to his first. “Allison,” he started again, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. “I meant what I said. I have no intention to be unfaithful.”

“
Wes, please don’t.”

“
Don’t what?”

“
Don’t make promises we both know can’t be kept,” she said on a sob.

Wes’ muscles tensed. “Do you think so little of me that you think I’d be unfaithful to my wife?”

“No, but that’s just it, Wes. I’m not your wife.” Her voice cracked and she blinked rapidly. “I know and understand that one day you’ll marry another and I’ll be nothing more than a fleeting affair you had along the way, so can you please not make this any harder by promising your lasting devotion?”

Fleeting affair?
“Is that all you think of this—of me?” He hadn’t meant for his tone to be so sharp but couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of sympathy for her when she winced at his words.

“
Wes, it’s not like that.”

“
Then what is it like?” he snapped, rolling off to the side.

“
Wes, please.”

“
Wes, please what?” he mocked. “Please offer me everything you have, so that I may take everything you have to offer without—”

“
Stop that,” she interrupted, frowning. “You’re not the only one giving something of yourself.”

“
Oh?”

“
Does my virginity mean nothing to you?”

“
No,” he said, bitterness filling his mouth.

“
No?” She crossed her arms over her chest as if to hide herself from him, not that he had the slightest bit of interest in seeing her body now. “Is it not the greatest gift a woman can give the man she loves?”

He laughed hollowly. “It is, but not when she intends to sleep with another. Then it makes her no better than one of the women who travel through here every few months offering female companionship.”

She blanched at his cruel words, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t force himself to care enough when she’d just rejected him so coldly. “I don’t see why you should care so much, since you intend to the do the same.”

“
When did I ever say that?”

“
You didn’t have to. You and I both know—”

“
That we’re married.”

“
Well yes. But not in truth.”

“
No,” he agreed through gritted teeth. “Though I foolishly believed that was about to happen.”

“
I don’t know why,” she said sharply.

He stared at her. “You do, too, know why.”

“No. All I know is that I was about to give myself to the man who I love, who I foolishly believed for a moment might love me back.”

He continued to stare at her, dumbfounded. Had something happened to her brain during her orgasm that had affected her ability to reason? “I do love you,” he said simply.

“Then what is the problem?”

“
The problem,” he began slowly, “is that your earlier words implied that you planned to sleep with me tonight and someone else—” he had no desire to say that other man’s name— “for the rest of your life.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. “That’s how it has to be.”

“Like hell it does,” he growled. He rolled away from her and buttoned his trousers, then forced himself to sit on the opposite edge of the bed with his back facing her.

“
I made him a promise, Wes.”

“
And what of me, Allison? Does the fact that you were about to give me your honor mean nothing to you?”

“
You know that it does,” she choked. “I love you, Wes; but I can’t remain married to you. I’ve promised my hand to someone else.”

“
Then why share your body with me?” he demanded, his chest constricting painfully.

“
Because you’re the one I want.”

He looked at her from over his shoulder. “Then why do you still intend to keep your promise to him? You made one to me, too; or have you forgotten that?”

She sat up and grabbed a pillow to shield herself. “That’s not fair and you know it. I made that promise to you because you said when Nicholas came back for me that you’d grant me an annulment. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”

“
Then I don’t see the problem. You’re already married to me; he’ll understand.”

“
Perhaps he will,” she allowed. “And I know that I must tell him and be prepared for the consequences. But I must honor my word.”

“
No. That’s not it. You know as well as I do that he won’t want to marry you if you’re no longer chaste. You implied as much just last night. Why do you really keep insisting on marrying him? What does he have that I don’t, Allison?”

“
Wes, it’s not like that—”

“
Isn’t it?” he challenged. “Is it his money, Allison?” He hated the way that sounded almost as much as the bile that filled his mouth.

The way she paled at his words and stammered to form some sort of rebuttal only confirmed his suspicion.

He didn’t hear whatever mumbling excuse she thought to offer him over the sound of his blood thundering in his ears.
Money.
That’s what it had come down to. He could tell her of his family’s wealth, he supposed. But what good would that do? She might change her mind and accept marriage to him, but not for the right reasons. She might say that she loved him, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

Wes stood and walked over to where his shirt lay on the floor.

“Wes, is it not enough for you that you’ll forever hold my heart?” Allison asked, her voice a strangled whisper.

“
No,” he said, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his damp shirt. “It’s not. Knowing that I hold something as fickle as your affection means absolutely nothing to me when I have to lie in bed at night knowing that another man will get to hold you.”

~Chapter Eighteen~

Wes stared at the blank wall of the cabin in front of him.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting at his desk and he didn’t care.

Not that there was much left to care about, he thought darkly as he let his gaze flicker down to the floorboard just to the left of his desk he’d pried up and stuffed that tied leather bag full of Nicholas’ letters. His gut clenched, both in memory of what they’d found that day but also knowing that Allison had kept all of Nicholas’ letters—and now he was the one keeping them. She’d probably want them back, and now that he truly knew where he stood with her, he needed to give them back to her.

He swallowed. He wasn’t ready to face her yet. But when he was, he’d bring every one of those blasted letters for her to pine over.

Just not yet.

Some time ago the call that marked dinner had sounded, but he didn’t feel like eating. Actually, he didn’t feel anything at all, except perhaps numb, if that indeed was something one could actually feel. He’d always thought numb meant without feeling... Not that it mattered. Nothing did now that he knew for certain there was no chance of a genuine marriage between them.

“
What are you doing in here?”

Wes forced a stiff shrug. “Why aren’t you playing cards with the others?”

“It’s my night to be in the lookout.”

Wes nodded sadly. He remembered those long, tedious nights of keeping watch up in one of the four towers in case the Indians tried to attack. General Ridgely had seen reason and had exempted Wes from continuing in the rotation now that he was married. The truth was, the lock on the room the married officers were given wasn’t enough to hold a dog out if he were determined enough. While Wes trusted his friends wouldn’t cause Allison harm or leave her undisturbed in his absence, he didn’t believe the same to be true for the majority of the other soldiers. She was an attractive young lady. One who was vulnerable and upon whom it would be easy to prey.

“Wes?”

Wes started again. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Did you say something?”

Gray fell into the chair opposite Wes, obstructing Wes’ view of the oh-so-fascinating wall. “Is something troubling you?”

“
No.” Wes did his best to force a smile, but even knew that was futile. “I’d better go back upstairs.”

Gray steepled his hands in front of him. “I see. Though to be quite truthful, after your public display earlier today, I—along with everyone else who lives around here—thought that’s where you’d be until tomorrow morning.”

Wes’ face heated. “Some of us are capable of spending time outside of the bed, Gray.”

“
I never said you weren’t,” Gray returned. “I just find it strange that it’s nearly time for bed and you’re sitting at your desk instead of with your new bride. So I’ll ask again, Wes; is something wrong?”

“
Nothing you’d understand,” Wes muttered, twisting his lips bitterly.

“
Ah, then perhaps you should make a trip to see Dark Moon. I’m sure he has some herbs that can help with your problem.”

Of course
that’s
the first thing Gray would think was the problem. For Gray and the type of women he associated with, that had likely been the only problem he could comprehend. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gray frowned. “Don’t be so offended. Many men suffer the inability to—”

“Don’t say another word,” Wes snapped. “Nothing is wrong with my ability.” It was his willingness that was the problem. Sure, he could have had Allison this afternoon and a hundred more times before the man she planned to marry came back for her. But for what purpose? Only to lose his heart to her more?

“
Wes,” Gray said softly. “There’s no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed.”

Wes clenched his jaw. “I’m not. I have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.”

“Are you sure?” Gray quirked an eyebrow at him. “There is a very attractive woman up in your room right now, probably even warming your bed, and you’re down here in a hard, rickety chair talking to me.”

Wes sighed. Now that he’d been discovered, he needed to go back upstairs before anyone found out she was alone. “Now, that you mention it, Gray, I should be headed back upstairs.”

Gray’s frown deepened. “You don’t sound nearly as excited about doing that as one would think you should be.”

“
Leave it alone, Gray.”

“
No.” Gray’s sharp tone gave Wes pause. He’d known the man close to eight years and had never heard him speak with such an edge to his voice. “Does she not enjoy your...attentions?” he asked, his voice back to normal now.

Wes scoffed. She’d enjoyed his attentions all right. “It’s not that.”

“Then do you not like hers?” Gray asked, picking up a leather bound book from his desk.

Wes stared at the man. Had the heat this past summer gotten to him? “Is such a thing even possible?”

Gray tossed the book down, sighing. “Wes, we’ve been in close quarters with each other for several years now. I know almost everything about you.” He narrowed his eyes. “I even saw that you had dust in your eyes the entire time we rode back from the Indian attack the other day, despite the fact that not a speck got in them on the way out there.” He shot Wes a sideways smile. “There’s nobody else here to hear whatever it is that you have to say; so just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can tell you how to fix it.”

“
I don’t think that’s possible.”

“
You don’t know if you don’t tell me,” Gray hedged.

No, he didn’t. Nor did he really wish to admit to Gray that everything he’d told him since Allison had arrived was a lie.

“Tell me this, is your sitting here brooding a sign that perhaps Allison might be entertaining offers from the other men about camp?”

“
Must you speak of her as if she is a sack of grain to be acquired or bartered for?”

Gray cocked his head to the side. “I see that I was wrong—at least partially. It seems by your strong reaction that your feelings for her are quite strong. Does she not feel the same way about you?”

Wes scowled at him. He hated it when Gray did this. Likely, it was what made him so sought after by the ladies. He might have a glib tongue and often said things that were inappropriate, but when it came to deeper matters, particularly those involving females, he gave his words, and theirs, a lot of thought. Too much thought if you asked Wes.

“
She does. Or so she says.” Wes released a deep breath and swiped his open palm over the smooth surface of his desk. “But it’s not enough. I’m not enough.”

Gray’s impassive face only annoyed him further. “And this matters to you?” Gray asked.

“Because she doesn’t intend to stay.” Wes threw his hands into the air. He’d said this much, so he might as well tell Gray the rest. “Allison was not my betrothed or the mail order bride I let you all believe. The stage that brought her here was bound for Santa Fe, where her rightful betrothed is waiting for her. The driver got lost and they ended up here. While the driver was getting directions from me, Allison got off for some reason and he left without her. I’d taken the day off that day because I’d just come back from a three-day ride out to the Creek reservation and I was tired. As I was walking out to check on my men and make sure they were following McCorkle’s commands, I saw her and convinced her to marry me until she could get word to Santa Fe and her intended could come back for her.

“
It was the only solution I saw at the time to keep her safe while she stayed here. I didn’t intend for—” He broke off and shrugged.

“
She still plans to return to her original suitor?” Gray asked for what Wes assumed was clarification.

Wes nodded.

“Is it possible she might be carrying your child?”

“
No.”

“
You do know those sheaths aren’t without fault.”

Wes forced himself to meet his friend’s eyes. “I know that.”

Gray nodded as if he took Wes’ meaning, which was a good thing, because the last thing he wanted to do was actually say the words that he hadn’t lain with his wife in the biblical sense. “Have you tried to change her mind?”

“
Yes. And I thought I had, but—” he shook his head as an overwhelming sense of sadness came over him at the memory of her telling him that she’d give him her innocence and her heart but didn’t intend to stay married to him— “I guess my efforts weren’t good enough.”

“
And just what were your efforts?”

Wes sliced his hand through the air. “Those are unimportant. I didn’t word that correctly. Apparently, my efforts were good enough; it’s just me who isn’t.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“
Then don’t,” Wes said with a lopsided shrug.

“
Wes, you are one of the most likable people I’ve ever met. The men assigned to you are glad to be under your command, and they never grumble, no matter what you ask them to do.” He snorted. “Even Mrs. Lewis has admitted that were she a few decades younger, she’d have been the one to pursue you.” He shook his head. “So I can’t believe that she finds you lacking anything.”

“
Well, she does,” Wes said bitterly.

“
What?”

“
My name isn’t Nicholas. I don’t have blushing debutantes flocking toward me in the hopes that I’ll afford them a moment of my time. Nor do I have pots of money to count all day and spend without a care.”

“
You could,” Gray said.

Wes swallowed. “I know that. And I thought I could give her that if that’s what it took, but I can’t. That’s not who I am, Gray. I hated every minute I spent wearing lace and ruffles.” He cringed. “I hated being made to dance with this one and kiss the hand of that one. I don’t mind dressing in my finest from time to time to dance with the squaws, but I can’t do it every night of the week again. I just don’t have it in me. I joined the army to escape that life and make my own way in this world, even if it reduced me to meager, impoverished living conditions.”

“Did Allison tell you that she couldn’t accept your position in life?”

“
No. She didn’t have to. She’s spoken about her precious
Nicholas’
—” he couldn’t stop himself from sneering at the man’s name— “wonderful social qualities and booming business in Austin.”

“
So, you’re telling me that she loves you, but is marrying him for practical purposes?”

Wes nodded. That summed it up very well.

“Do you think it’s possible that the reason she feels she has to marry him isn’t because she’s truly some money-hungry, materialistic, spoiled brat, but because you treat her as if you think she is?”

“
What’s that to mean?”

Gray pulled a face. “I was there at breakfast that first day when you said something to her about not wasting her food, then grumbled that you had to eat it for her. I also heard from Charles about the conversation regarding buying her fabric. And—”

“That’s enough,” Wes cut in, a lead weight lowering on his gut. “I take your meaning, and for once, you’re absolutely right.” Not once had Allison asked him to buy her anything or intentionally wasted anything other than the awful food she was served. He’d been the one to accuse her of being frivolous, based solely on where she was from and what he assumed to be true of a lady like her.

Nausea swirled in his stomach. This was all a mess of his own creation, not hers.

Wes ran a hand through his hair and stood to leave. But before he could go, he knew what he needed to do. If he wanted to start anew with Allison and have a fighting chance with her, he needed to be honest with her and give her back something she deserved—those blasted letters. Even if she didn’t choose him, she deserved to have the letters.

With a sigh, he bent down and pushed on the floorboard until the other side lifted, then scooped out the letters, restored the floorboard, smiled at Gray and said, “Thank you, Gray.”

Not that he thought for one minute that Gray had any interest in what was in that bundle in his hand—he’d probably already deduced what they were based off their previous conversation—and if he needed any further convincing, it was there when he smiled smugly and in a teasing voice said, “You’re welcome.”