After The Lies

by Mandessa Selby

  “Luc, I can see you know, as well. You paid for the finest art teachers in Europe to teach me. I have studied the human body for fifteen years. Trust me, dear brother, I know a woman when I see one. Nothing sneaks by me for long. Although this new proclivity surprises me.”

  “What do you mean?” He never could keep a secret from her.

  “Do you remember Francois Picard?”

  He did. He and Esme had a brief affair many years ago. “The Belgian ambassador!”

  “We had a raging affair once until I caught him.”

  His curiosity was aroused. “Caught him doing what?”

  “One morning, I went for my early ride, but my horse threw a shoe and I returned home to find him dressed in my best ball gown. I have heard of such sexual deviations, but I had no idea that you like your women to dress as men.”

  He could quite catch his breath. His heart raced with sheer terror. Did she think he was ... “What are you talking about?”

  “This garb that she wears, is it for your excitement?”

  “Esme.” Luc couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wherever did she get such odd notions?

  She sat up. “Don’t ‘Esme’ me. It’s perfectly acceptable. Except for Francois. I kicked him out, he ruined a whole season’s worth of clothes for me. Nothing fit me correctly after that. Not that I didn’t enjoy replacing everything, but the man was not honest with me. If he had been, I would have arranged for his own wardrobe. My colors did not suit his fair complexion and blond hair.”

  He crossed his arms. “Esme, every conversation always seems to turn back to you.”

  She stood up and walked over to him. “Is there a more interesting topic?”

  “I need some air.” He tried to bolt through the door, but she stopped him.

  “Don’t force me to follow you forcing me to question you about your little camp follower. Sit here.” She patted the mattress. “And tell me everything about her. She’s beautiful. I think I want to paint her.”

  “I have not bedded her. I have no desire to bed her contrary to what you might believe. As far as she is concerned, she is just trying to earn money to help her family. This is a secret and it will go no further than you or I. If you will excuse me. Good night.” He walked away. The only way to end a conversation with his sister was to simply leave and hope she didn’t follow.

  She may tease him, or taunt him, but he knew that any secret she possessed of his would go to the grave with her. If Esme loved you, she protected you with the fierceness of a she-wolf with her young.

  He stood out on the veranda and smoked a cigar. The parade ground was empty. Horses milled in the corral. Someone played music in the barracks and the smell of cooking emanated from his neighbor’s kitchen.

  Down the row of officer’s quarters, several of the officers’ wives sat in rocking chairs and were probably gossiping. More than likely, the subject of their gossip was Esme. When Luc had told her there was no gossip in Texas, he’d neglected to tell her that an Army post was a hot bed of rumor. She’d find out soon enough. Esme had the ability to put even the most stand-offish woman on her side. Luc was never certain how she did it. For all her outrageous behavior, Esme had the ability to create friendships with the most unlikely people.

  In the post headquarters lamps were lit, and Luc figured General Hammond and Major Adams were talking about the Comanche problems. The news that the General had laid in his lap, still left him shaken.

  Across the parade ground, Old Silas closed the stable door and secured it. Then he limped toward the barracks.

  Callie darted out of the shadows of the stable. She slid so quickly from shadow to shadow, Luc almost didn’t see her. She crossed the parade ground toward the mess hall.

  As she passed him, Luc stepped out of the darkness and grabbed her arm. “What did you tell my sister?”

  Chapter Nine

  Rafe sat cross-legged just outside the entrance of his tipi. He held his son on one knee. A few feet away sat his wife working on a new pair of moccasins for the boy. The boy seemed to grow out of his moccasins every day. At two years old, Proud Horse, was growing so fast Rafe always expected to come home and find a stranger in his place.

  The War Chief, Night Feather, approached and gestured Rafe to accompany him. Rafe handed Proud Horse to his mother and followed the old chief across the compound to his teepee. In side, Rafe found all the elders.

  Night Feather gestured for Rafe to sit. “You have done well, Black

  Fox. We have many fine horses and rifle.”

  Rafe simply nodded. But he could see that something was bothering the elders. “What is wrong?”

  Night Feather half smiled. “Can you trust this blue coat who betrays his own people?”

  “No, but I can trust his greed. He promises new maps with the new supply routes. And then we will be able to kill all the white men who disturb our way of living and be done with them for good.”

  Night Feather shook his head. “Do you fight for us, or do you fight

  for your own demons?”

  Rafe was surprised. “Does it matter?” He glanced from face to face. Each man in the teepee represented the combined wisdom of the tribe. He could see that despite their wish to keep their way of life intact, the white man had wiped out so much of what the Comanche prized.

  “You saved my first daughter from being spoiled by the white blue coats.” Night Feather banged his fist on his knee. “Yes, it matters to me.” “And you let me live.” Rafe’s muscled tensed. “You gave me your daughter.”

  Night Feather nodded. “But you were a buffalo soldier. You counted coup many times on us, but now you are one with the Comanche. You brought us the ways of the blue coats. Because of you, we’re still free. Many of the tribes to the north, east and west of us are gone. Is my daughter the only thing that ties you to our people?”

  “Quannah Parker has white blood and no one questions his loyalty to the Comanche. Many have questioned my loyalty, but never you. Why now?”

  Night Feather looked at each of the elders in the circle. “The elders have been talking about just leaving this land behind and going to Mexico.”

  Rafe was surprised. He’d never thought that Night Feather and the others would ever consider giving up and moving away. “Why?”

  Night Feather glanced around again. Several of the men nodded. “Too many of our young men are dead. Mothers and wives still wail their grief. The tribe suffers. In Mexico we have a chance to survive.”

  Rafe thought about his own mother. Did she still cry for him? He didn’t want his adopted family to go to Mexico, but he could understand their desire. But he also didn’t want them coming into conflict with his own people. “Why should you give up your land? You were here first. My people, the Seminole, have been moved time after time. Our tribe, once large, is now small. The white man is the enemy. They take what they want and then they accuse us of greed in wanting to keep what we had. Eventually, the Americans are going to want Mexico and then we will fight all over again. We must stop it now.”

  Night Feather took a deep breath. The depths of his eyes showed sadness. He glanced around at the other. “Our adopted brother speaks in wisdom. He knows the ways of the white man and the blue coats. Do we stay, or do we move.”

  One of the old men spoke. “How do we continue the fight, when our bravest men are dead? If we leave this place, we can grow new warriors to take up the fight again.”

  “I am not going to run like a scared rabbit.” Another of the old men said. “Why should we give up what is ours so easily? Black Fox is right. Eventually the white man will look to the South and they will come again. Where will we run to then? I know of no place beyond Mexico.”

  The other men glanced at each other, nodding.

  “Black Fox,” Night Feather said, “has shed blood for us. For the moment, I think we should stay and continue to fight as he wishes.”

  Another of the elders said, “What will happen when there is no one left to fight but old
men, women and children. Will we surrender then?” Night Feather shook his head. “I have no taste for surrender. I will fight until my blood spills on the ground. So will my sons and daughters.”

  He patted Proud Horse’s dark hair. “So will my grandchildren.”

  Rafe had left behind everything of who he was in Mexico. The Comanche were his family now. This was his way of life and until he was dead, he would fight too.

  * * *

  Luc dragged Callie away from the mess hall to a small grove of trees. The night air was fragrant and Callie had been so caught up in her thoughts of what she’d seen by the stream, she hadn’t seen Luc until he’d grabbed her.

  Callie shook her head. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  Luc glared at her, hands on his hips. “My sister knows you’re a woman. Do you know what kind of risk you’re putting yourself into, not to say me?”

  Callie was dumbfounded. They had spent all of five minutes in the same room. The Lieutenant’s sister had looked at her with all-knowing green eyes as though she could see all the way inside to Callie’s soul. But she hadn’t thought she’d guessed Callie’s secret. “I know the risk better than you.” Callie risked her whole future.

  “Stay away from my sister,” Luc said roughly.

  Her eyes narrowed. Just what the hell did he expect of her? “I was ordered to move her trunks. That’s what I do. I follow orders.”

  Luc laughed and Callie was struck by how his hair glowed silver in the starlight.

  “If you followed orders,” he said, “you would have stayed in your village, and I wouldn’t have this problem.”

  He was so close she could smell the bayberry on his skin. “I’m not the one kissing on you, staring at you, touching on you.”

  “I only kissed you once.”

  Callie tilted her head up to study him. Just the thought of kissing her again sent shivers down her spine. She couldn’t forget what it was like to be touched by him. “Yeah, but I can tell you think about it a lot. And I don’t like that you’re thinking about me.”

  “I’ve been trying to leave you alone.”

  “I’m not going to be any man’s fancy woman. Just because I work for you doesn’t mean you can take advantage of me.” Besides, he was a white officer and she was a Negro-Seminole, that meant they didn’t mix. As much as she wanted to be in his thoughts what right did he have thinking about her? Nothing could ever come of it.

  “This argument isn’t getting us anywhere. Just stay away from my sister.”

  “I didn’t go out of my way to make her talk to me.” But she had touched the lacy underwear and for the first time regretted her masquerade. She wanted to be soft and feminine and have the men look at her like they looked at Miss Delacroix. Or at least have the Lieutenant look at her like she was a desirable woman. Even though it was wrong in every aspect. He was her commanding officer. He was handsome and refined and she was a desert brat with no education, not much good for anything but hunting and tracking. They came from such opposite worlds. They could never be together no matter what she might want. Yet she couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to be hungered for by him. The way she hungered for him.

  “I know this isn’t your fault.” Luc ran a hand through his hair. “I have no one but myself to blame. I let you talk me into allowing the charade to continue and now I’m stuck with it. If I report you to the Major, he’ll ask how I found out and then I’d have to reveal that I’ve known for weeks. And half the post will skin me alive. The Major, there’s no telling how the Major will react to this piece of news. For all I know I could be digging ditches for the rest of my career, if I even have one left.”

  For the first time, Callie realized what an awkward position she’d put him into. Guilt washed over her. Her plan had been so simple. Why was it getting tangled? “I didn’t think about the way you could be hurt by my actions.”

  He grabbed her shoulders. “Then start thinking.” His voice was harsh. “I’m as much at fault. All I had to do was march straight to the Major and tell him about you, but I didn’t. I listened to your pleas and kept your secret.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “If there’s one thing I understand, it’s about secrets.”

  “What kind of secret would someone like you have?” Callie couldn’t imagine anything bad in his past. Except maybe if it involved a woman. She could imagine a woman risking everything to be with him.

  He leaned down, his lips brushing against her cheek. “It’s a secret.”

  His breath was warm on her skin and she turned her mouth toward his and his lips touched hers. His arms slid around her and pulled her close. Callie closed her eyes. She couldn’t resist him. She liked the feel of his body next to hers. The way he smelled. His hands seemed so knowing on her body. She’d had boys fumbling at her before, but Luc knew what he was doing. His skillful touched begged for a response and she felt a spiraling heat shoot through her. A heat that set her body on fire.

  Luc broke away and Callie staggered back. Her cheeks burned and she wanted nothing more than to pull him back, to have his arms encircling her.

  “Get away from me.” Luc turned and stalked off.

  Callie stared after him. Tears started in her eyes and she fought them, rubbing her fists against her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give him such power over her.

  Callie had no idea where her feet were taking her, but when she stepped up on the porch of the Lieutenant’s quarters, she found his sister leaning against the rail smoking a cigarette. The light from the window framed her. Smoke curled about her hair.

  Callie just stared at Esme, and broke into tears.

  Esme slipped an arm around Callie and drew her inside the small house. “Come inside, you can’t stand on the porch and cry, being a soldier and all.” She led Callie into the bedroom and sat her down on the bed. Esme drew up a chair and sat in it, her green eyes searching Callie’s.

  “I’m sorry for blubbering.”

  “So tell me, little one” Esme said quietly, “what makes you cry?”

  “He kissed me.” Callie was uncomfortable in the Lieutenant’s bedroom, though she had to admit, his sister had totally transformed it.

  “Who?”

  “The Lieutenant?”

  “Do you mean my brother?”

  Callie nodded.

  Esme hooked a finger under her chin. “So what is wrong with that, little sister? Many women have enjoyed my brother’s kisses.”

  “He’s not supposed to kiss me. He’s an officer. He’s white.” Remembering the softness of his lips brought fresh tears to her eyes. “And then he told me to get away from him.”

  She sighed. “Men are all alike. They want their little kisses and then they don’t want to take responsibility for them. My brother is no different. I had hoped I’d done a better job with him, but obviously not.”

  Callie swiped a hand across her cheek. “But I’m not supposed to be a girl.”

  Esme patted her hand. “And you’ve done a good job with your masquerade. How do you feel about my brother?”

  She handed Callie a hankie bordered with white lace and Callie wiped her eyes. “He’s a real good officer. His men respect him. He treats them good. He fights good. And he has courage.”

  “How dry and boring all that sounds,” Esme said. “I meant, what do you think about him as a man? Do you think he’s handsome? Do you think he’s charming? I’m not interested in how he sits on a horse, shoots his gun or commands his ever so loyal troops.”

  Callie stood up. “I don’t think I like these questions and I don’t think it’s proper for me to say anything like that about your brother.”

  “You came to me, dear. And I’m dying to know, and I will ply you with my best French wine until you answer all my questions.” Esme opened one of her trunks and removed a bottle. She rummaged through the trunk until she found a corkscrew and while Callie fought to regain control, Esme opened the bottle with a pop, found two wine g
lasses and poured them both a generous amount.

  Callie sipped the wine. It had a sharp, fruity taste that puckered her lips and slid down her throat like liquid fire. She took a deep breath and stared at the glass. “I’ve never had wine before.”

  “Have you had enough to sufficiently loosen your tongue and your inhibitions, my dear?” Esme sat back in her chair and sipped her wine delicately, her long narrow fingers twined around the stem of the glass as though she were holding the most fragile object.

  “I’m feeling kind of hot, but I was feeling that way before.” Callie took another experimental sip. “I wish I could be more like you.”

  Esme chuckled. “Blazing a trail in a gown would be a trifle difficult.”

  “No, I mean, you’re smart, beautiful, and refined. I can’t even read.”

  “There are many people in this world who don’t read.”

  “The Lieutenant does. He reads all the time.” Callie pointed at the wall with his shelves of books. He read them over and over and Callie envied him the knowledge in those books.

  “When you are with me, you may refer to my brother by his Christian name.”

  Callie was horrified. She’d never called a white person by their first name. Ever. “No, ma’am. I can’t. He’s my commanding officer.”

  Esme waved a hand. “The Army is too silly for women to be involved.”

  Callie laughed. Sometimes she thought the same thing. So many rules and regulations and ways of doing things. She didn’t understand how things got done. Who cared if all the saddles were lined up by rank. First the Major’s, then the Lieutenants and then the Sergeants, and

  finally the enlisted men. She was so junior in rank her saddle was always

  the last in line.

  “So you want to read.” Esme reached for book on the bedside table. “I can teach you. You’re very smart and will learn in no time at all.”

  For a second, Callie was shocked. She glanced against at the books lining the shelf.

  “I don’t know. I can’t afford to pay you.” Life in her village had been difficult enough without her taking the time to learn things like reading. She had to save all her money and send it home to her mother.