The Officer and the Traveler

by Rose Gordon

  Allison grinned at her logic and called Gray over to move the only other chair in the room over by him for Michaela while she settled herself on the edge of her bed close to Wes.

  “Smells good, ladies,” Wes commented.

  “Hopefully it’ll taste that way,” Allison replied. She tucked a tendril of her brown hair behind her ear. “Actually, I know it should. Michaela tested the spices and added a few.”

  “I’m sure it would have been delicious either way,” Wes said, then he turned to face Michaela and moved his lips almost as if he was saying, “Thank you”, but Michaela wasn’t sure.

  “I saw that,” Allison nudging him in the side with her elbow. “You have to admit, my cooking is far better than what you’d be served downstairs.”

  “Well, if he can’t appreciate your fine fare, I’ll start coming by to have his share and he can go downstairs to claim my ration,” Gray said, making the room suddenly go strangely silent with discomfort. It took a moment, but Gray’s bluish-green eyes suddenly flared wide as he realized his statement, though meant to be charming, hadn’t been seen as such now that he was married to another.

  “Don’t mind him,” Wes said in a slightly elevated tone. “He’s just not yet used to being married and now that he’s a husband such compliments should be reserved for only his wife.”

  “It’s all right,” Michaela said softly. She tried to make eye contact with Gray to assure him she’d not taken it as anything other than an innocent compliment to his friend, but he seemed to have a formed a sudden fascination with a hangnail. “I’m accustomed to Gray and his…charm.”

  “You are?” Wes and Allison asked in unison.

  Michaela nodded once. “He used to stay with one of the officers under my father’s command and help the men. He was a charmer even then.”

  “I see,” Wes said slowly, a teasing note in his voice. “I hate to inform you of this, Mrs. Montgomery, but you have married a shameless flirt.”

  Despite herself, Michaela giggled. “Is he?”

  “Yes,” Wes said adamantly. “Why when Allison first arrived, I was introducing them and he immediately started paying her compliments—”

  “Until I put him in his place,” Allison added with a grin.

  Michaela looked at Gray who twisted his lips into an overdone frown and shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea what the problem with this was.

  “Then when Ella arrived,” Wes continued, “he kept trying to assure her that she had other marital options besides Jack.” He laughed. “I thought the two might have a bout of fisticuffs to see who could take her to the altar.”

  “She couldn’t have been swayed,” Michaela stated. “Though she’d never seen fit to actually share his letters with me, I knew she’d been writing him and was quite taken by him. No amount of Gray’s charm was going to change her feelings.”

  “And that was for the best,” Gray commented quietly.

  Michaela tried to read his expression, but she couldn’t. What was wrong with the insufferable man? Why was he still avoiding her gaze? They weren’t alone.

  “I agree. I think she’s quite happy with her choice,” Allison said softly. She looked at Michaela, compassion and perhaps a bit of a question in her eyes. “I think it worked out for the best for everyone.”

  “Indeed,” Wes agreed. “Say, you’ve known Gray longer than anyone else here. Anything you’d care to share with us about him?”

  “No. He seems to be the same now as he was then: a charmer.” That’s all she wanted to say on it. Speaking further of his past and the extent of his charming would only bring up bad feelings for her and possible resentment or worse, nothing, for him.

  “Well, I have a story for you,” Wes said with a chuckle. “When Ella was still sick and Jack didn’t come to work so he could care for her, Gray and I had to take turns taking charge of Jack’s men. There’s one in particular—”

  Gray’s loud groan cut off Wes’ words, leading both Wes and Allison to laugh at his discomfort. Michaela’s interest was undeniably piqued by their reactions.

  Unfortunately a knock at the door kept her interest from being satisfied.

  Gray, being the closest to the door stood and opened it. He greeted Jack and Ella then stepped aside to allow them room to come inside. Gray gestured to the chair he’d vacated and offered it to Ella. Before she could sit down, Jack did then patted his lap and with a slight blush, Ella took her place on his lap. What a wonderful sight they made together. Both of them smiling and carefree, sneaking peeks at the other. Jack placed his large hands on Ella’s abdomen.

  “We won’t stay long,” Ella announced, covering Jack’s hands with hers. “We just wanted to see what all the commotion was about.”

  “Nothing nearly as interesting as the commotion the two of you were making a bit ago,” Gray said without shame.

  Ella’s cheeks pinkened and Michaela shot her an apologetic smile for her husband’s rude statement. It had been quite clear what they’d been over there doing, but he needn’t be so indecent as to mention it to her!

  Jack merely grinned at Gray. “I do believe you’re jealous.”

  Gray’s expressionless face and silence only confirmed what she’d already believed to be true: Gray didn’t desire her.

  “As I was saying,” Wes said when unease had settled over the room, “there’s this fella around here named Private Galworth—”

  “I warned you to be careful or he might end your wretched life,” Jack cut in, grinning. “That man can’t shoot.”

  “Oh, he can shoot. That’s not a problem for the man. He just can’t aim,” Gray said, grimacing.

  “I told you that, too,” Jack said. “I’ve seen the man miss a target two feet in front of him. He can’t hit a thing.”

  “Unless it’s me,” Gray muttered. “I’m lucky he didn’t hit anything vital.” He grimaced again and for some reason crossed his legs, making Wes erupt in laughter.

  Understanding dawned and Michaela blushed. She hadn’t noticed any bullet wounds on him in that region…but then again, she hadn’t been looking.

  “To the good fortune of both me and Galworth, the bullet just grazed the skin on the inside of my thigh. It ruined my trousers, but the wound hasn’t required anything beyond salve.”

  “If it gets infected you can always make another trip to visit Dark Moon,” Jack said. “I’m sure he’d be happy for the company.”

  “How unfortunate he doesn’t bother to dress appropriately for company,” Gray said, his lips twisting in distaste.

  “You mean like Saving Grace?” Jack suggested helpfully.

  “Who?” everyone in the room asked at once.

  “You know the one who wore the little square over his…” He coughed and lifted his brows as if everyone would magically know what he meant.

  “That wasn’t much better,” Gray said, scowling.

  “Sounds like the two of you had quite a night,” Ella commented.

  “I’d say I’m sorry I missed it, but I’m not,” Wes chimed in. “Someone had to watch the ladies.”

  “And if I’d known what awaited me for going, I might have volunteered for your post instead,” Gray said. The solemnness of his tone rocked Michaela to the core. With all of the nervous excitement of their wedding and suddenly becoming a wife, Michaela had been so selfishly caught up in her own feelings, she’d nearly forgotten the circumstances surrounding their sudden nuptials—apparently Gray had not.

  “I think it’s time to flip the steaks,” Allison murmured, climbing down from where she sat on the bed.

  Michaela went over to the fire to help her friend tend to dinner and called a quick goodbye to Ella and Jack who’d just announced they needed to be going so Ella could start their dinner, too.

  The rest of their visit passed much the same way it had begun: with lighthearted conversations and unabashed fun. But under it all, Michaela couldn’t help but wonder what was upsetting Gray. Was he treating her so cold because she was now unchaste
, therefore, an imperfect woman, like she’d originally thought, or was he being withdrawn because he felt guilty about marrying her to help himself to a fair trial?

  She’d have to ask him. There was no other way about it. She had to know.

  At almost ten o’clock Gray and Michaela were back in their eerily quiet room.

  Wordlessly, Gray got ready for bed and Michaela did the same. She chanced a glance at him when he turned the blankets down to see what he was wearing: trousers. She bit her lip and turned her attention back to the buttons that went down the front of her gown. Did he plan to remove his trousers or did that mean he wasn’t interested in her? Had he been naked, she’d have had no trouble guessing his intentions, but trousers? Suppressing a sigh, she removed everything except her chemise. She climbed in bed beside her husband and lay still as he rolled onto his side and extinguished the lone candle beside their bed.

  “Gray?”

  He grunted his response.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Never mind.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Gray woke up in the exact position he’d fallen asleep in: on his side, facing away from his wife. It wasn’t a surprise he’d been able to hold his position all night. He’d been sleeping in that exact position for years. First when he’d shared a bed with one of Colonel Jones’ sons, then at West Point and again when he’d been sent to Fort Gibson. The military was always short on beds and it was just part of the life of being a military man: you had to share a bed.

  The only difference was now he was sharing a much larger bed with a woman and for as loud as his body was raging for him to do something other than sleep, he couldn’t.

  “How do you like your coffee? Simmering or boiling?”

  Gray snapped his eyes open to see Michaela wearing a pale green dress and kneeling by the fire, poking it with an iron rod. When had she gotten up? And why hadn’t he heard her? He’d never considered himself a deep sleeper, but he had been extremely tired these past few days, He must have been so tired he hadn’t heard her get up and dress. “You don’t have to make me coffee,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his tired face.

  “It’s no trouble.”

  He stared at her. Was he imagining things or was there a musical lilt to her voice? “Why are you making me coffee, Michaela?”

  She pulled the pot off the fire and poured them each a cup. Coming toward him, she said. “We need to talk.”

  His gut clenched. Nothing good ever followed those words. He took the cup of coffee from her and set it down on the bedside table that held one of their only candles, then reached around her for his shirt that was laying over the back of one of their chairs. “Later.”

  “No, not later.” She reached toward his hand and yanked his shirt from his grasp, a storm brewing in her green eyes. “Now.”

  Gray jerked his shirt back from her grip and put it on. “What do you want?” He hadn’t meant for his voice to come out so harsh, but he wasn’t about to apologize that it had.

  “I want to know what’s going on.”

  “I’m getting ready to go to work,” he said simply. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his stockings. “Now, if you’d hand me my boots, I could finish getting dressed.”

  She didn’t budge. “Why are you being so cold?”

  “Cold?”

  Michaela crossed her arms and glared at him.

  Ignoring her, he reached for his boots.

  She moved to block his reach and he pulled back and moved the other hand to reach around her the other way.

  She kicked his boots toward the door.

  He frowned at her. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you’re being inconsiderate.”

  He scoffed. “You refused to hand me my boots, then when I went to reach for them, you block my reach and I’m the one being inconsiderate?”

  “Just answer my question and I’ll get you your boots.”

  “I can get them myself.” He stood.

  She stepped in front of him, stopping him. “Why are you treating me so cruelly? What has upset you so much?”

  He froze. “Nothing.”

  Now it was her turn to scoff. “I doubt it was nothing. You were very affectionate when we returned here after our wedding, and now you hardly look in my direction.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I knew your situation when we married,” she said softly, lowering her eyes.

  His chest constricted. Yes, she did know of the accusations against him when she married him, and he was sure he’d never be able to properly make up to her what she’d done for him. “It isn’t that.”

  “Of course not,” she said on a sigh. “You’ve never felt guilty about anything.”

  “What was that?” he snapped.

  She shook her head and bent to pick up his boots.

  He took them from her. “Answer me, Michaela.”

  Michaela narrowed her eyes on him and for a moment he thought she’d refuse to explain her earlier words, but she didn’t. “Last night you made the comment that if you’d known the repercussions of going with Jack you’d have volunteered to stay with Ella and Allison and let Wes go in your stead. I thought you were saying that because of General Ridgely’s allegations that you’d raped a young girl that night and your cold treatment of me yesterday was because you felt guilty that you were using me to gain a fair trial. But now I know that it’s not your guilt that’s bothering you.”

  “I see,” he said slowly, thinking through what she’d just said. “Michaela, I appreciate your willingness to marry me, I really do. And after this is all over, I intend to make it up to you—whatever you want. If you want to go back East to live near your other sisters, you can. If you want me to buy you a fancy house near a big city, I will. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you and I’ll still be in your debt.”

  “Back East?”

  He furrowed his brow. Why did she pinch up her face in a way that would suggest she’d just seen a cockroach crawl out from under his shako? “If that’s where you want to live, I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “What of you?”

  “I don’t plan to leave Fort Gibson.”

  “So you plan to send me away after the trial?”

  He blinked. Was that a trick question? “It might take a while to set up the transportation.”

  She nodded once. “I see.” Only a fool could miss the small quiver in her bottom lip.

  Though Gray wasn’t fool enough to miss it, he also wasn’t fool enough to say anything else, lest he inadvertently upset her further. It was probably for the best that he put on his boots and walk her over to Mrs. Lewis before things could get worse, then he’d come back and finish getting dressed.

  He shoved his feet in his boots and quickly tied them. “Let’s go.”

  Michaela was to the door before him.

  Resisting his urge to sigh, he reached around her and gripped the doorknob before she could twist it open. “I’m sorry if you thought I was unkind to you yesterday,” he said in her ear. “I didn’t mean for my actions to be taken that way.”

  She remained silent and he inhaled to keep his nerves steady. Instead, what he got was a strong whiff of her lightly perfumed hair. Lilacs. He closed his eyes and took in another sniff. He couldn’t explain it, but Michaela had always smelled of lilacs and the scent was just as intoxicating now as it had been when they’d first met.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’ll ask my father today if he plans to stay until the trial and if I can ride home with him. That way you won’t have to arrange for any transportation.”

  Since when had each of Michaela’s statements become the equivalent to a punch in the gut? “Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she said with a sharp, shaky laugh. “But it’ll be the easiest way.”

  Gray released his hold on the doorknob and spun Michaela around to face him. It had been the first time following their wedding night that he’d be
en able to look at her without waves of shame crashing over him. “If you don’t want to go back with your father you don’t have to.” He twisted his lips, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. “You’re free to go wherever you wish. I won’t keep you here, but you don’t have to go with him, either.”

  She lowered her head and nodded, and then without warning the door opened behind her. “Let’s go.”

  Gray stood frozen as she took a step backward across the threshold. And this was why he’d never really wanted a wife. No matter what he’d said to the contrary when teasing Jack or Wes or trying to ‘steal’ Allison and Ella, he had no intentions of marrying. He’d spent more than enough of his life surrounded by females and he still didn’t understand them. Willingly marrying one was only asking for trouble.

  He forced himself to leave the room and not call her back. He pulled the wooden door closed and jammed the key in the lock. He waited to hear the soft click of the lock, but grimaced instead when he heard another sound: a sniffle.

  Gritting his teeth, he pulled the key out of the lock and turned to face his wife. “What are you crying about?”

  He expected her to say, ‘Nothing.’ The very word he’d heard one of the prostitutes say to the others when they were clearly upset but didn’t wish to talk about it without a bit of prodding, sympathy, and begging first.

  But Michaela was full of surprises! A fact he should have already known.

  “You are such a self-righteous philanderer. It’s fine that you’ve poked everything in a skirt, but now that you’ve taken me to bed, you want nothing to do with me,” she said in a razor-sharp tone, jabbing her finger in the center of his chest. “Need I remind you, sir, that you’re the one who took my virginity and if anyone should be ashamed of their overabundance of knowledge in the bedroom, it ought to be you.” She shook her head with such vigor two tendrils of her auburn hair fell loose around her face. “But it’s never shameful for the man, is it? He can sow all the oats and seeds he wants and nobody bats an eye.” She swiped at the tears coursing down her cheeks. “It’s the woman who bears all the shame. Only I’m not some soiled dove you can climb out of bed with, pay, and never see again. Instead I’m a wife, who must be ‘dealt’ with and you’ve decided that means that after the trial I need to be sent away because I’m useless to you here. You’ll have had your trial and a bit of fun. There won’t be any reason left for you to keep me here.”