by Rose Gordon
“No, I don’t imagine a fellow like you has any questions about his wedding night.” He chuckled. “I imagine you could teach me a thing or two.”
Gray shrugged. “Probably.” But I’d much rather teach Michaela.
***
General Samuel Davis ran his hand through his dark hair and gave it a slight jerk. He was doing the right thing. He was convinced of it. And in time, they’d both see that his interference was for the good of them both. Of course, Grayson could see the importance of it now, but he didn’t dare tell Michaela of the trouble her groom was facing or she’d put up more of a protest. That was the last thing any of them needed.
Time, however, was exactly what the two of them needed. He was sure of it.
Chapter Seven
TOOOOOT! TA TE TA TOOOOO!
Michaela would certainly have been jarred awake by the sounds of the horn being blown directly outside the window of the room she’d slept in had she not been awake already.
She pulled the covers over her face and covered her ears with her hands.
If escape had truly been an option, Michaela might have attempted it last night. But she knew better. Her father’s temper was little better than that of an irate Indian tribe. At least there was only one of him. Not that it meant much, but enough to keep her safely on the settee Aunt Lucille had offered her. She’d been tempted to ask if she could stay with Ella last night but knew Ella’s acceptance would only make for an uncomfortable situation between Michaela, Ella and Jack.
When the obnoxious song she knew so well ceased, she removed her hands and heaved a heavy sigh.
If Pa was to be believed, today was her wedding day. There was no reason not to believe him; he’d given her little choice in the matter, but maybe she could talk to Gray at lunch and see if there was anything she could do to make him see sense and call off this sham of a wedding. Truly, what did he possibly stand to gain from marrying her? The last time she’d seen him, he’d been uncharacteristically kind to her all evening, loving even, then he took her to a brothel where he went into the room of a calling prostitute and said, “go to hell,” before slamming the door behind him.
A shiver passed over her.
“Do you need help getting dressed, Michaela?” Aunt Lucille said, coming up to where she was still lying on the older woman’s sofa.
Michaela’s eyes fluttered open. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all, dear. Here, let me see what you brought that might be comfortable for you to wear around here until you can get more gowns.” Aunt Lucille found a simple green dress in Michaela’s trunk then helped her dress before going off to the kitchen to make them each a plate.
“George went out early to talk to Jack and Gray so you’ll have to eat an extra large portion,” she said, setting the plates down at the table.
“Since we scarcely stopped to eat on our journey here I fear that I might devour your entire kitchen.”
“You won’t be very happy later on if you do that. I guarantee it,” Jack said behind her.
Michaela nearly jumped out of her seat to greet her brother-in-law and give her sister a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming back today.”
“All the officers’ wives spend their days here at the Lewises’,” Ella said.
Michaela nodded. Their mother had once mentioned something about ladies at certain forts and how they had to all stay together for safety from some of the men. A chill ran down her spine. “Is it just the three of us?” she asked after Jack kissed Ella’s cheek and took his exit.
“Five. There is Sarah Ridgely, the general’s wife, then Allison. They should both be here soon.”
Michaela nodded once as unease settled over her. What if the other women didn’t like her? Was it possible that in the few days that Ella had been here, that she and these other ladies had become better friends than she and Ella? She blinked to clear the thought. That was preposterous. But preposterous as it was, it didn’t stop her from wondering.
“Stop,” Ella whispered when they resumed their spot at the table. “You’ll love Sarah and Allison. They’re both very nice and in need of friends here just like we are. We’ll all get along like sisters. Believe me.”
Michaela nodded. She and Ella hadn’t been so close as children. In fact, they’d been opposite in almost every way. Ella had spent every moment outside that she was allowed to until she was fifteen and Michaela, being four years older, had been kept inside to cook and clean and learn to be a lady. Some days she envied Ella and her carefree spirit that often endeared people to her.
“When can we talk?” Michaela whispered to her sister when Aunt Lucille got up to get herself a second biscuit.
“Later, I promise.”
Michaela nodded. It was the best she could hope for. “Good.” She let her eyes travel her sister’s form. “You’re looking rather giddy this morning. Is there any reason?”
“I expect you’ll know soon enough,” Aunt Lucille said with a little chuckle, sitting back down.
Ella’s cheeks flushed and a grin took her face. Shrugging, she said, “I can’t deny it.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “As I said, we’ll need to talk later.”
Aunt Lucille shook her head. “You can’t say anything I don’t already know. They all have the same parts and I expect they all use them the same way.”
“I take umbrage with that statement,” came a deep voice from the door. “I’m sure I use mine better than most.” He paused. “But no one other than wife will ever get to know.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” a woman with auburn hair and brown eyes said, swatting at him. “Don’t mind him. Like all men, Wes, thinks he’s superior in every aspect of his life.”
“Well, aren’t I?” he asked, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling.
“Of course you are.” His wife came up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch?”
He nodded then returned her kiss. “Ladies.” He nodded to where the three of them stood, watching their display.
“Allison,” Ella said. “I’d like for you to meet my sister, Michaela. Michaela, this is the other officer’s wife I was telling you about, Allison.”
“Hopefully not all about me,” Allison said with what had to be an overdone frown. “I’d hate for anyone else to know my secret shame.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “I cannot sew even a knapsack.”
A sudden, uncontrollable giggle formed in Michaela’s throat. Ella was right; the three of them would get along wonderfully. “No need to consider that a secret shame where I am concerned. I once was trying to sew my own petticoat and when I held up the cloth band that sits around your waist to make sure it was ready for the netting, Ella asked if I was making Pa a pair of undergarments.”
The ladies in the room all burst out in a round of giggles and the tension that had settled over Michaela the instant she saw her father’s face after he’d walked up on her and Gray kissing yesterday eased a fraction.
“I’m sure Gray will be very appreciative of that talent since the men out here lack such an item,” Aunt Lucille said dryly, sobering Michaela a touch and reminding her of her purpose. She needed to talk sense into Gray at some point today. And if that didn’t work, she’d hit him on the back of the head with a skillet. Only to help him see sense, of course. She wouldn’t cause him any permanent damage. Just a tap to help him realize the foolishness of a marriage between them.
“I hope you all don’t mind, but we’ll be going to Sarah’s today,” Aunt Lucille said. She picked up her sewing basket. “General Ridgely stopped by earlier and said that Sarah was feeling ill today.” She handed Allison a large folded piece of cloth with a single needle poking out of the top that had a spool of thread resting around it.
“My latest project,” Allison murmured to Michaela. “An orange and brown tablecloth for autumn.”
Ella bent down and picked up her basket that had to weigh no less than twenty pounds if Michaela had to guess. Fabric a
nd scissors, needles and thread, shears, tapes, pins and patterns all piled two feet high.
“How long did it take you to travel here?” Michaela asked her sister.
Ella shrugged and followed Aunt Lucille out of her house and into the covered area that acted as a hall between the two residences. “A little over two weeks, I think.”
Michaela shut the door to the Lewises’ behind her. “I’m surprised it wasn’t longer with all that weighing down the carriage.”
“And now more than ever I’m glad I brought it so I can begin making you a new wardrobe.”
Michaela wanted to groan. In need of a distraction before that conversation went any further, she casually asked, “Do all the men come eat lunch with their wives?”
“Only the smitten ones,” came the quick reply of the lady with dark blonde hair who was lying in her bed with her covers to her chin.
“I suppose we’ve been married too long for that, haven’t we, Sarah?” Aunt Lucille said, touching the other woman’s forehead. “You’re not hot. Are you hurting anywhere?”
“Or itchy?” Ella piped in, walking over to the other woman.
Michaela furrowed her brow.
“No. Thank heavens, I’m just tired,” Sarah said with a grimace. She fluffed a pillow and shoved it behind her. “But for good measure I did have Amos check my back in case I’d missed anything,” she added with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t wish such a fate as that on anyone.” Ella opened the curtains a bit and took a seat on the sofa.
“What fate?” Michaela asked. Had she missed something?
“One almost as bad as death,” Ella murmured. She unfolded the dress she was working on. “Around the time I arrived I was bitten by a spider. One so venomous that it made me sick.”
“Not just sick,” Aunt Lucille added when it seemed Ella was finished with her inadequate explanation. “It made her delirious.”
“And those were the better ailments,” Allison said. She lifted her needle and stabbed it into the orange and brown fabric she was edging. “You should have seen—and smelled—the spot on her leg that was infected.”
“Surely it wasn’t that bad,” Ella said as she dug through her basket.
“How would you know?” Allison retorted, not unkindly. “You were the one fortunate enough to be sleeping when it had to be cleaned.”
Michaela bit back a smile at the exchange. If she didn’t know any better, Allison could have truly been a sister to the two of them with her gentle teasing. “But you’re better now,” Michaela confirmed.
“Yes. Much.” Ella pulled out a little square of red silk and tossed it to Michaela. “Here. You might not like to sew, but you can at least make your own nightgown.”
Michaela felt her eyes widen. There wasn’t anything on this planet that could tempt her to sew a nightgown out of such a bold color of meager fabric.
Aunt Lucile’s chuckle filled the room. “Don’t worry, dearie, you won’t have to wear it very long. Gray’ll have it off of you before you realize it.”
Chapter Eight
Usually the morning after a night doing a post in the watchtower, Gray was ready to crawl in bed and sleep well into the afternoon.
Not today.
After General Davis had left him alone, he’d had nothing but time to think. And that was a scary prospect for a man who’d just been accused of rape and acquired a fiancé all within the past twelve hours.
“How did she know it was an officer?” Gray burst out by way of greeting when General Ridgely emerged from his home.
“He rode in on a horse.”
Gray crossed his arms. “She said that?”
“Well, no, but he had to have. The Cherokee camp is too far from here to have reached them by foot, accost the girl and make it back before daybreak to resume his duties. He had to have ridden a horse.”
Of course he did. Besides just being a fair distance from the Cherokees wasn’t the only reason a man would take a horse. If he got caught, he’d need a horse to make a quick escape. Even with a horse it wasn’t entirely possible to flee. Those men—and women—were extremely skilled with their weapons. “Just because he rode a horse doesn’t mean he was an officer,” Gray pointed out.
General Ridgely pursed his lips. “Are you saying that anyone else at this fort has access to the horses other than the officers?”
“It’s possible that the horse was stolen,” Gray said evasively.
“And who in the hell is stupid enough to steal a horse?”
“The same kind of man who is stupid enough to accost an Indian chief’s daughter.”
Grumbling, General Ridgely walked off.
Gray considered going after him to argue his case more, but now wasn’t the time. The man clearly had no interest in listening to reason.
In the distance, he saw Wes as he commanded his men and Gray’s in drills, one of which was highly unusual. It almost looked as if they were all marching, then turning to form two lines that faced one another. Then they each lifted their swords, forming a tunnel. Gray groaned. That had to be the work of one person: General Davis.
There was no use in denying it, whether Michaela wanted it or not, she was about to have a very highfalutin wedding.
He shook his head and walked toward his room. Tonight he’d move upstairs to a private room he’d only have to share with one person: his wife. His pulse picked up at the thought. His father-in-law might not be a person he aspired to get to know better, but his wife might be.
“Halt there, Captain Montgomery.”
Gray stilled and turned around to see Colonel Lewis behind him. He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he noticed that General Davis wasn’t with him. “Yes, sir?”
The colonel scratched his jaw. “I was wondering about something you said last night.”
Unease settled in Gray’s stomach. “Yes, sir?”
“What makes you certain?”
“That I didn’t rape that girl?” Gray asked flatly.
“No. Even I know that.” He waved a hand through the air. “How do you surmise that she’s pregnant?”
Gray forced a shrug. “Instinct I suppose.”
“Instinct?”
“The way her arms crossed with her hands over her stomach.”
“Hmmm.” He nodded once then slapped Gray on the shoulder. “I’m not sure I believe that, but all right. Rest up. You wouldn’t want to actually sleep on your wedding night, would you?”
***
If the clock could move any slower, Michaela would truly be surprised. Though the timepiece mounted on the Ridgely’s mantle said only five hours had passed, it had felt like an eternity to Michaela.
“Perhaps some tea will calm your nerves,” Aunt Lucille offered, lowering a pot of water onto the fire. “I was a ball of jitters on my wedding day, too. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m sure it will,” Michaela murmured offhandedly. There was no way that tomorrow could possibly be better. Only worse. She shot another glance at the clock. In ten minutes it would be time for lunch and with any luck, Gray would join Wes and Jack, the smitten officers, and come join her for lunch. Perhaps then they could talk.
Unfortunately, lunchtime only confirmed what she already knew: Gray was anything but smitten with her. Wes arrived first, followed a few minutes later by Jack. Both immediately went to their wives for a hug and kiss, which they gladly gave.
Michaela’s heart constricted. At least Ella had made a good match. If nothing else, she could forever be thankful for that.
“What has both of you fellows looking like you’ve just been to war against the redcoats?” Aunt Lucille asked. When they both furrowed their brows, she flicked her wrist. “Never mind. That might have been a little before your time.”
“Well,” Jack drawled, accepting a glass of water from his wife. “If you’re asking what has us both looking as if we’ve just been run over with a team of four, I’d say he masquerade
s around under the name of General Davis.” He shook his head. “This fancy wedding he’s planning has made me extremely grateful that Ella defied him and agreed to come be my wife as a mail-order bride.”
Michaela grinned and Wes shuddered. “I’m just glad I don’t have to spend holidays with the man.”
Jack groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “As I said, I’m grateful I got away with a small wedding.”
“Small wedding?” Ella echoed. “Surely you wouldn’t refer to ours as a small wedding. More like nonexistent.”
“Perhaps if it wasn’t as grand as you’d have liked, the two of you can take mine and Gray’s place this afternoon?” Michaela suggested with an overdone smile.
“Oh, no. We’ve had our wedding, this one is for you.” Ella set a sandwich on her plate and brought it to her husband.
Jack took the plate from Ella and whispered something in her ear, the only words of which Michaela could understand were “wedding night”. Ella flushed and turned back to Michaela, but couldn’t meet her eye. “It won’t be so bad. Gray is an honorable man.”
Michaela cocked her head to the side to stare at her sister. Did Ella even remember the boy known only as Grayson, who wasn’t really Colonel Jones’ son, but not really old enough to be in the army, either? More of an errand boy who was made to clean up after the soldiers or fetch them things they wanted. Michaela had once asked Pa why he’d come to the fort, and had been given a firm answer to never mention his presence again. Being a girl of fifteen, Pa’s reluctance to speak any more about it, had only stoked her interest and led her to spy on him or position herself in situations where she could try to talk to him. Ella, however, was too enthralled with wildflowers and mud pies to notice his existence.
“I agree,” Jack chimed in. “He’s an honorable sort, Michaela. I think he’ll make you a fine husband.”
Michaela suddenly felt like the world was caving in around her as she looked at everyone in the room. They all seemed to be nodding in agreement. How odd. Just yesterday, it was Jack who seemed to be offering her his remorse over her being kissed by the man and now he seemed to be a champion for the match?
“Dare I ask just where is this man who everyone thinks will be a wonderful husband?”