by Rose Gordon
The man’s grip on her arm tightened a fraction, then released, but he didn’t remove it completely.
From where she stood, she could only see a partial profile view of his face, but it was enough to see the muscle now working in his jaw.
When she’d first spotted him climbing out his window, she hadn’t gotten a very good look at his face. Nor had she gotten a much better one when they’d been talking. The sun had been so bright behind him, it had made the details of his face nearly impossible to see.
She angled her head a little to see more of his face. He had a strong jaw covered with a day’s worth of whiskers. Long, straight nose. A yellowish mark under his eye—a healing bruise perhaps.
He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw, his eyes still fastened on her father.
The tension mounted as the seconds passed and she pulled away from him, noting the absence of his touch on her arm was just as disappointing as when he’d ended their kiss. She started, there had only been one other who’d been able to ignite such a feeling within her. She blinked to clear that thought immediately. No good could come of it. That was long ago—when she was young and still naïve to the ways of the world. Now she knew better.
“General Davis, sir,” the man began in a tone that might suggest he had a pound of gravel in his throat. “I would like to request permission to marry your daughter.”
Michaela’s breath caught. He’d actually asked. Pa would say no, of course. They were strangers after all, and while Pa had recently become more irritating than before in his demands to know why she hadn’t settled on a suitor, he wouldn’t actually make her marry a stranger. Nonetheless, this man had certainly just earned her father’s respect. There was no question about that.
Pa kept his stance, not moving a muscle.
Michaela walked toward him, not daring to look back at the man she’d just been caught kissing. “All right, Pa. There’s no need to stare at the man as if you’re about to declare war against him. You got what you wanted, now let’s go.”
“Yes,” Pa said.
“Yes?” Michaela echoed, knitting her eyebrows.
“Yes, you can marry her.”
Every ounce of blood in Michaela’s veins turned to ice. “Wh-what?”
“He has my permission to marry you.”
“But he’s a stranger,” she burst out.
“Is he?” Pa questioned, arching a brow at her.
“Of course he is. I saw him climbing out a window and—” She closed her mouth with a snap. Telling her father how they’d met wasn’t going to do her any favors.
“And then you decided to play loose with your affections with him.”
Michaela’s face burned. “Could you keep your voice down before someone hears and thinks something else happened?”
Pa shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, it did.”
“No, it didn’t,” Michaela practically hissed.
“Do not worry, Michaela, there won’t be a wedding,” the man said from behind her, stilling her. How did he know her name? She hadn’t told him, nor had her father mentioned it.
She spun around to face him. This time when she saw him, it wasn’t with the bright sun behind him. Her eyes connected with his bluish-green ones and with the impact of a bullet from her father’s pistol the past came back. Gray. She wasn’t sure if she actually said his name or not. Nor could she muster up enough will within her to care, not when her heart felt like it was being crushed all over again. How could this be?
He took a step toward her, his eyes full of the same softness that had once held her captive to him.
She took a retreating step backwards, even if that meant being closer to her father.
“Act right, Michaela,” Pa barked. “It wouldn’t do for you to make a fool of your husband by acting this way.”
“He’s not my husband,” Michaela countered.
“No, but he will be, and it wouldn’t do for it to be known that Captain Montgomery’s wife doesn’t—”
“That will not be a problem,” Gray cut in. “As I assured Michaela, there will not be a wedding.”
Pa looked unmoved. “No?”
“No,” Gray said. “As Michaela pointed out, you got what you wanted from me. But that’s as far as it goes.”
“And what is your plan after I announce your engagement tonight? To publicly embarrass her by standing her up at the altar? I think not.”
“And what is your plan then, to force me to walk down the aisle by pressing the point of your bayonet into my back?” Gray retorted.
“If I must.”
“Pa, that’s eno—”
“Need I remind you that I never asked her to marry me,” Gray asked as if he didn’t know—or just didn’t care—that she was speaking.
“No, but you asked me, which is good enough.”
Michaela gasped. “No—”
“Well, I didn’t expect you to say yes.”
Stung, Michaela didn’t even bother to speak again. He was right, of course. She hadn’t expected her father to give approval, either. But that was when she thought Gray was a stranger. Not that it mattered. Pa had once told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t to go near Gray, ever. Whether she had always heeded his command might be a discussion she didn’t wish to have. But there had to be some reason for her father’s warning.
“But I did say yes, and now you shall marry her.”
“I mean no offense, but my desire to marry your daughter likely rivals that of her desire to marry me—”
“It looked like there was quite a lot of ‘desire’ present when I arrived.”
“You are correct,” Gray allowed, his voice thick. “But that doesn’t mean that I wish to marry her.”
“Then perhaps you should have given that a little more thought before making such a display where everyone could see, then go on to announce that she was your intended.”
Gray scoffed. “What does it matter? Surely you didn’t bring her here to find a husband, so her reputation is of no consequence.”
“To the contrary, you, Captain Montgomery, have ruined her reputation in the worst way. If you don’t marry her now, everyone here is going to think she’s here for their entertainment.”
***
Gray’s gut clenched painfully. Of course that was his first thought upon seeing her, too. But he hadn’t meant to harm her. The same could not be said for all the other men at the fort.
“How long did the two of you intend to stay?” Gray asked, praying the infuriating man would say a short enough time that it would offer Gray a form of escape.
“A while. A few weeks at least, possibly even a month.”
“What the devil for?” Gray bit off before he could remind himself to stay calm.
“To ensure my daughter is properly adjusting to marriage and her husband is treating her right.”
“That won’t be necessary since there will not be a wedding.”
“There had better have already been a wedding,” General Davis said flatly. “If not, it’ll be Lieutenant Walker I march down the aisle at the point of my bayonet tonight and you tomorrow.”
A cough built in Gray’s chest. Lieutenant Walker was his friend Jack who’d recently married a woman named Ella… Elinor. Gray groaned. He should have known, but Elinor was at least five or six years younger than him. The last time he’d seen her she couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven and covered head to toe in mud. When she’d arrived here two weeks ago, he hadn’t made the connection between Ella “Walk-Davis” and the mud-covered ten year-old Elinor Davis. He clenched his hands into fists. He knew Jack’s sending off for a mail-order bride was foolishness. He should have tried a little harder to dissuade Jack from marrying her. Poor man, now he’d forever be stuck with an iron-fisted tyrant of a father-in-law for the rest of his life. He almost felt a pang of sympathy for Jack. Almost. But Jack was the one who wanted to get married. The consequences were his to suffer.
“I assure you, that wedding did indee
d take place. But one between me and Michaela will not.”
“Yes, it will. I will make the announcement tonight at dinner and a wedding will follow immediately.”
“With all respect owed to you, sir,” Gray said, trying a different tack since clearly the man didn’t understand the word no. “I don’t believe it is a good idea to announce an engagement that will not result in marriage.”
“With all respect owed to my daughter, you should have kept your lips to yourself and I would not be announcing such an engagement that will end in a wedding.”
Irritation bubbled inside of Gray and he clenched his hands into fists then suddenly let them go. This had nothing to do with Michaela and they both knew it. This was her father’s way of trying to right a wrong and Gray wanted none of it. It was too late for that. “If you’re so certain there will be a wedding, then you’d best be off in search of another officer to act as the groom, because this one won’t be playing the part.”
Chapter Three
Michaela stifled her giggle as Gray walked away from her and her father.
One thing was for certain—Gray wasn’t the same boy she’d met when she was fifteen. She thrust the thought from her mind before anything else could come of it and turned to her father.
“Why must you get so much enjoyment out of torturing potential suitors?”
Pa arched an eyebrow at her. “Potential suitors?”
She flicked her wrist. “I didn’t mean Gray. But you have to admit that the display you just made with Gray is similar to how you behaved with every one of Ella’s suitors.”
He shrugged. “They weren’t good enough for her.”
“Oh, and are you saying Gray is good enough for me?” She didn’t know why she said it; it was spoken before she even realized it. Not that it mattered what he thought of Gray since she had no intentions of marrying him.
“Yes, I do think he is good enough. I think he will make you a fine husband.”
Michaela frowned at him and tucked a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear. “You forced him into asking. It wasn’t sincere.” Nothing where Gray was concerned was ever sincere.
“Whether his words were sincere or not matters very little. He asked and I gave permission. There is nothing else to it.”
“And what of what I want?”
“Is that a serious question?”
It had been to her, but apparently he had no interest in what she wanted. “Pa, do you remember earlier in the carriage when you asked if I thought perhaps you had ever treated your daughters like men under your command?”
Pa narrowed his dark green eyes on her. “Out with it, Michaela.”
“I don’t wish to marry that man.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have been engaging in such a passionate exchange with him.”
Michaela’s eyes flared wide. Did he have to keep talking like he’d just walked in on Michaela while she was entertaining a lover? “I would hardly call it passionate.”
Pa’s face stayed hard as stone. “The blush on your cheeks and your lack of pushing him away says otherwise.”
Embarrassment burned through Michaela all over again. “I was merely stunned and couldn’t think straight to respond.” Well, it was partially true. She had been stunned a kiss could be so wonderful and hadn’t been able to think properly.
Pa didn’t look convinced. “I have another theory of why you were unable to think straight, however, that is not something I feel a father and daughter should discuss.” Though his cheeks began to color, his voice held steady. “If you’d like to discuss such a topic, I will escort you upstairs to Ella. She’s a married woman now, I’m sure she’ll be able to answer any questions you might have about what that distraction you had was, as well as what more you’ll need to understand once you become a wife.”
“I will not be becoming his wife,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Oh? And do you plan to run to the Indians for protection?” He waved an open hand all around them. “Look around us. There’s nowhere for you to go. If I leave tomorrow before you awake, you’ll have nowhere to go and you’ll have to marry.”
His words stole her breath away. Nobody knew better than Michaela how heartless her father could be at times and how stubborn he was when he had a mission he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to see her married. He’d never kept that a secret. He also wasn’t used to not getting his way.
“Why?”
“Why what?” he asked.
“Why now? Why can’t I go back to Savannah and earnestly look for a husband?”
A sharp bark of laugher passed Pa’s lips. “Do you expect me to believe that you’ll do that? No, you’ll marry Grayson.”
“No, I won’t. If you won’t believe me, then you should believe him. He has no desire to marry me and you cannot force him, Pa. Even you should know that.”
Pa stood quiet a moment, hopefully accepting the truth of her words. “All right. What if he asks you to marry him? Will you agree to marry him then?” he asked after a moment.
Was her father addled? Gray wasn’t going to ask. “That won’t happen.”
“Answer my question, Michaela. If he asks you, will you marry him?”
“I don’t see what the point of this is. He doesn’t want to ask.”
“I didn’t ask if he wants to, I asked you if he does ask, will you marry him willingly?”
Michaela wanted to throw her hands into the air and yell at her father until he understood what nonsense he was speaking, but didn’t wish to cause a scene. “He won’t ask,” she said through clenched teeth.
Pa poked his bottom lip out. “Then, you should have no reservations about saying yes.”
“And if I say no?”
“Well, I suppose I could leave tomorrow and you could shop for a husband yourself,” Pa said with a shrug. He winked. “I know how you girls enjoy shopping.”
Shop for a husband. That was utterly ridiculous. He wouldn’t really leave her would he? She was his daughter and he loved her, didn’t he? A bitter laugh almost sputtered from her lips. He’d loved her mother, too, or so he’d said. Her gut clenched at the truth of it: if he hadn’t thought twice of hurting her mother, then he wouldn’t give another thought to leaving her here. “If, I give you my word, will you give me yours?”
Pa quirked an arrogant brow.
“If I agree to marry him, if he asks me, will you agree that if he doesn’t ask me before tomorrow that you’ll take me back to Savannah with you to let me find a husband there?”
“Done.”
Michaela went rigid. Her father’s quick response wasn’t what she had expected. She expected him to tell her no or at the very least try to negotiate with her. But ‘done’? That didn’t bode well. She racked her mind to come up with a solution for his hasty agreement. Nothing came to mind. He had a plan and the knowledge of it made her physically ill.
“Now that we have that settled. You may either come with me to see your Uncle George or go see Ella and ask her whatever questions you think she might be able to answer for you about your wedding night.”
“All right,” she said airily. “Though I hope she has paper that I may take notes. You never know, I might forget something between now and when I find a husband in Savannah. All that bouncing around in the carriage and all between here and there might jar something loose, after all.”
“More than your hair?”
“My hair?” She lifted her hand to her hair and let out a little sound of surprise. It was no wonder Gray had come over and kissed her. Between her gown that she’d crushed when she’d fallen asleep in the carriage and her out-of-sorts hair, she had to look like a genuine prostitute who’d just finished with one customer and was seeking the next!
“Ella’s in her room,” Pa said with a chuckle.
Michaela bobbed her head once and took off toward the barracks.
Though she’d love to see “Uncle George”, an old army f
riend of her father’s who she hadn’t seen in at least ten years, she longed to see her sister more.
A little alley divided two two-story log cabin buildings that made up the barracks of the fort. She walked through it then stopped, frowning. Where the blazes was Ella’s room? Perhaps she should have asked her father, but it was too late now and she had no desire to go waste any more time speaking with him. She’d just find someone to ask.
Or not.
There wasn’t a soul anywhere. Though that didn’t help her find Ella, it was probably for the best as who knew what kind of ideas a man would take into his mind seeing her alone. She shuddered and steeled her spine. She might be many things; but a prostitute wasn’t among them.
Though Michaela and her sisters had grown up on many forts and camps, they’d never been allowed to actually go to the barracks. Not that Michaela always did what she was supposed to, but that was one rule she’d obeyed without question. Now, if someone were to ask her if she’d ever sat by her bedroom window and used a spy glass at night for anything other than studying the stars, she’d have to rely on that amendment, the fifth she believed, that allowed her to stay silent and not incriminate herself.
As a young girl of fifteen, she’d become intrigued by one of her father’s men who she’d decided long ago would forever remain nameless and might have spent a night—or sixty—looking around the barracks to see what he and the other men did. Curiosity. That’s all it really was. But it was enough to give her an idea that married officers always had rooms on the top floor. She scanned the sides of the barracks. Only one side had two floors and fortunately for her, she was standing very close to a staircase and wouldn’t have to risk being seen walking across the courtyard of the barracks.
In the far corner, she spotted a small cluster of men chewing and spitting and leering at her as they licked their lips. Nervous chills ran up her spine. She jerked her eyes away and saw a man walking toward her. He looked a bit more clean and young than some of the others, but he was still a man and for a reason she couldn’t name, the idea of being alone with him caused terror to build in her chest. Not wishing to provoke him or let on to how uncomfortable he made her, she crossed the boardwalk to the staircase that was only a few feet away and started to ascend. Surely he wouldn’t follow her up the stairs?