by Jodi Thomas
When the mantel clock struck five, Marianne announced it was time that they all returned home. She invited Lacy to join her and the major for dinner, but Lacy declined. Marianne didn't seem to mind, so Lacy guessed it had truly been an invitation and not an order.
She hugged all the women good-bye and started to return to her quarters. On a whim, she decided to take a walk. It would be sunset in an hour, and she'd once more be a prisoner, not allowed out.
There was such organization to the fort. It seemed to run like a well-oiled machine. Everything seemed neat and clean, unlike towns where no two buildings were the same size or had the same roofline. Lacy could see why her proper husband would feel at home in such a place.
As she passed Hayes's office, the sergeant stepped to his door. "Is there something I can do for you, ma'am?"
"No. Thank you for all your help today."
"You're welcome." He seemed pleased that she'd noticed.
"I just thought I'd stretch my legs." Lacy stepped off the porch.
"Would you like me to accompany you?" He glanced back at the stack of papers on his desk.
"No. I'll be fine. I'd like to walk to the corral and watch the horses. Is that allowed?"
"Of course. Though you'll find no mount as fine as your husband's horse. We do have a few fall colts that are fun to watch."
He went back to his desk, and Lacy circled the grounds. The place was like a little city. She walked by the corral and watched the colts for a while, then crossed to the main gate. She thought of walking down the road a piece to see what the wild town of Mobeetie looked like. She'd read that the town bore the Indian word for Sweetwater as its name and bragged that a saloon had opened the day it was founded.
On second thought, she decided to go no farther than the huge gate. After all, she'd told Walker she wouldn't leave, and if the gate closed at sunset, she might get locked out. She stood just inside and watched the late sunlight play across the tall grass, making it look almost like the prairie was on fire.
It was near dark when she circled back by Hayes's office and stopped at the door to say good night.
He jumped up from his desk when he saw her. "Oh, Mrs. Larson, I have a telegram for your husband that came yesterday about an hour after he left."
"He'll be in tonight," Lacy hoped more than knew. He'd said a few days. Had he meant two nights also?
"Would you mind giving this to him?"
"Of course not." Lacy accepted the envelope. "I'll be happy to. Good night, Sergeant."
"Good night, Mrs. Larson."
Lacy walked down the porch to her quarters and closed the door just as the last rays of the sun faded. She thought she heard the sound of the gate closing.
Standing by the fire, Lacy flipped the telegram over in her hand. Written on the outside were the words, "For Captain Walker Larson, From Sheriff Riley, Cedar Point."
Lacy tore the envelope open, knowing it had to be news from home. Walker had told her he'd let the sheriff know she was all right, and now he must be telling them of Nell's progress. She almost tore the paper opening it. All last night and most of today, Nell had been in the back of her mind. A part of her was with the girl if only in spirit.
Glad Lacy is safe stop Nell is improving stop
Dalton informs me you are to wait before riding out stop Rangers are on the way from Fort Worth stop Repeat do not go after them alone stop
Lacy read the message over and over, trying to figure out what the sheriff meant. He wanted Walker to wait. That could only mean one thing. Riley and Dalton knew Walker rode into danger.
She shoved the telegram in her pocket and headed toward the door, but when her hand touched the knob, she froze. Where was she going? Who could she tell? Hayes could do nothing. The major was the one who gave the order. He must know of the danger.
Pieces began to fit together. The way Marianne kept saying that Walker was so brave. That he'd be able to do things no one else would even attempt. That the major believed in him.
Memories of how Major Garner had looked at her. Nervous. Sad. Almost as if he felt sorry for her. She'd thought it was because he sensed that something was not right between Walker and her. Now she knew it was because he feared she might be a widow soon.
Lacy paced. Whatever Walker had ridden into had been dangerous. Everyone at the fort probably knew it except her. Walker had known. That's why he'd been so cold, so formal. That's why he'd made her promise to stay at the fort.
Maybe that was why he'd touched her so gently yesterday morning. Could he have thought it might be the last time?
Time ticked by as she tried to think of something, of anything she could do. But there was no one to ask, no one to turn to. Hayes wouldn't tell her anything. He might not know anything. The major would probably be angry at Walker for marrying such a fool if she ran down to his quarters and cried that Walker was in danger. Of course he was in danger; it was the nature of his job. She had no way to contact anyone until morning and no horse or buggy to get home in, even if she was foolish enough to try to make the journey alone and at night.
Her nerves unraveled as the hours passed and she heard nothing. If Walker planned to make it back tonight, surely he'd be here by now. It would be foolish to even think of going to bed. She knew she'd never sleep. On restless nights at home she would have moved close to the fire and quilted until she could keep her eyes open no longer.
Quilt! It might be the only thing that kept her sane. It had saved her when Walker's dad had been dying. Working on square after square of fabric somehow kept her life together as she sat beside the old man's bed and watched him slowly pass away.
She hurried to the window and looked out.
The grounds were deserted. The light in Hayes's office no longer shone out on the porch.
Lacy put out her lamp and opened the door. Silently, she slipped two doors down. The shadow of the long porch hid her from view of even the guards at the gate. Within a few seconds she hurried inside the empty quarters with the quilting frame.
Making sure the window was shuttered, Lacy lit the lamp, built up the fire, and began to work. Her nerves slowly calmed as she stitched.
CHAPTER 23
It was almost dawn when Lacy finally put down her needle. She'd worried and sewn her way back and forth across the quilt and finally grown too tired to see the stitches. She stood and stretched, feeling as though she'd aged a year during the night. Opening the shutter, she watched the sun lighten the sky, afraid of what the day might bring. Walker said he'd be back in a few days. Had he meant two, or three? If he didn't return today, she couldn't bring herself to think of what that might mean.
Walking to the dying fire, she tossed the telegram Riley had sent onto the hot coals. The sheriff's message had come too late. Walker rode out without the warning and without knowing Rangers were on their way.
She turned down the lamp and slowly stepped out onto the porch. It might be early, but the fort churned with activity. For a moment she watched, thinking of what it would be like to live in this small town where each man and woman had their duties. She almost laughed. This place would never do for her; she'd never be able to get up so early and start her day. Now, if the fort opened about ten, she might consider it.
"Mrs. Larson?" Hayes ran toward her. "Is the captain all right?"
Lacy faced the sergeant, confused by the question.
Hayes reached her. "I heard he ordered bandages sent to his quarters when he rode in."
Lacy moved toward her door. "When was that?"
Now it was Hayes's turn to look confused. "Fifteen minutes ago." Hayes fell into step with Lacy. "Major Garner just rode out for that big meeting he has in Mobeetie every month, and he yelled for me to have Captain Larson report to his office at noon if he was able. I asked how bad he was hurt, and all the major would tell me was that the captain refused to see the doctor."
Lacy flung open the door to their quarters and saw Walker standing beside the table that was covered with medical suppli
es. He'd stripped to the waist and was trying to tie a knot in a bandage across his arm using his one free hand and his teeth.
Slamming the door, she hurried to him. "What happened to you?"
He dropped the bandage. "What happened to me! What happened to you? I thought you'd left. I was changing clothes and trying to stop bleeding long enough to go after you."
He was bloody and dirty, and she'd never seen such anger in his eyes, but she couldn't help but run toward him. He was alive. She'd worried for nothing.
Walker took her wild embrace with a groan, but he didn't let her pull away when she realized she'd hurt him. He held her tight with one arm as if he had to know that she was really beside him.
She wiggled within his hold, her heart still threatening to pound out of her chest. "I thought you were hurt, or killed. I feared you'd never return." Her words came fast, running over one another. "I couldn't sleep, so I quilted all night."
Walker buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. "The guard said he'd seen you by the gate last night."
She stared up at him. "You thought I'd leave after I gave you my promise to stay?"
"I only knew you were gone, and I had to go after you, even if it meant deserting."
Lacy opened her mouth to argue, then saw the blood dripping down his arm from the bandage he'd tried to tie on. She forgot what she'd been about to say. "You're hurt."
"It's only a scratch."
"Let me see." She pushed on his shoulders, and he folded into a chair. She'd expected him to protest or give her a lecture about not staying in her quarters, but to her surprise, he simply watched her.
She cleaned the wound, which was only a scratch, a very deep scratch where a bullet had peeled off flesh for a few inches halfway between his shoulder and elbow.
As she dressed the arm, she asked, "Are you going to tell me about where you went and how you got this?"
"Do you really want to know?"
Lacy thought as she tied the bandage. "Yes." If this life were a part of him, she wanted to know.
"Can it wait?" he surprised her by asking. "I haven't had any food or sleep since I left."
Lacy opened the door, not the least surprised to find Hayes waiting just outside. "Sergeant, would it be possible to have a tray of food brought for my husband?"
"He's going to be all right?" Hayes tried to see past her into their quarters.
"He'll be fine, but he needs rest and food."
"I'll be back in five minutes. Will there be anything else, Mrs. Larson?"
"Yes, please tell Mrs. Garner that I will be late today for the quilting."
Hayes smiled. "I'll do that."
"And would it be possible to have water for a bath delivered?"
He nodded once and hurried away.
As promised, five minutes later, Hayes delivered a tray loaded down with food and a pot of coffee. He deposited it on the table and disappeared.
They ate in silence, both hungry for food and for the sight of each other. Walker asked her to help him put on his shirt before they sat down, but she'd insisted on him leaving it off so that she could see if the wound would bleed through the bandage. They compromised with her draping the shirt over his shoulders for, as he informed her, a gentleman doesn't sit at a table in a state of undress.
As they ate, she found herself spending far too much time studying his bare chest and little time watching for bleeding. He seemed a different man than the one she'd known before. He appeared exhausted, with dirt on his clothes as well as his face. Much less proper, she thought. Much more likeable.
By the time they finished eating, the tub was ready. Walker hesitated. "There's no blanket for privacy."
"I'll turn around, Captain." She almost laughed, surprised at his need for privacy. He must have lived in the barracks at some point. But then, undressing with men around was a great deal different than removing all his clothes in front of a woman.
With her back to him, she heard him undress and splash into the tub. "Sorry," he said, "I can't depend on my left arm just yet."
She turned around. The tub was big, but it looked so small with him sitting in it. Squaring her shoulders, she moved forward. "Allow me to help."
He turned down her offer, then demanded she leave him be, then swore, but she paid him no mind. He needed help and, unless he wanted her to call Hayes, she was the only one available.
She was right, of course. He needed her. They reached another compromise. She washed his shoulders, around the bandage, and his hair while he pouted. Walker might have been able to sit down in the tub with only one good arm, but he'd turn the water over if he tried to get out. With a towel wrapped around him, she helped him stand. Lacy felt sure the idea that he needed her help bothered him far more than his wound.
"Enough." He stepped from the water. 'Turn around, Lacy."
She did and listened to him fumble with his clothes. If she waited for a thank-you, she'd die of old age.
When she turned back, he'd managed to pull on a clean pair of trousers. Without asking, she helped him with his undershirt, sliding the cotton gently over the bandage. Then she rubbed his hair nearly dry while he complained.
"What next, sir?" she asked when he combed his hair back with his hand. "Shall I shave you?"
"Get in bed," he mumbled with the temperament of a wildcat who'd been forced to bathe.
Lacy crossed to her side of the bed, unbuttoning her dress as she walked. She slipped it over her head and dropped it on the floor without a thought as she crawled under the covers. Now that she knew he was safe, lack of sleep caught up to her.
Walker threw the bolt on the door and joined her. He stretched out his good arm and waited for her to roll against him.
When she did, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. "This is what I thought about for two days. No other world. No other time but here."
Lacy yawned and placed her hand over his heart. Her captain had returned to her.
They both fell asleep with no other words between them.
Hours later, she awoke with him kissing her, and her dreams slowly moved into reality.
She gently pulled away and sat up. "Let me check that bandage."
Walker relaxed. "I wasn't thinking of my arm. It's time I got back in uniform. The major will be expecting a full report." He smiled. "But first, I thought I'd get reacquainted with my wife."
She leaned over him and studied the dressing. No blood spotted through. "Good." She ran her hand gently along his injured arm. "It may heal nicely."
"Do that again," he whispered as he tucked a pillow beneath his head and studied her.
She brushed his arm again, from shoulder to his hand, then stared down at his face. His eyes were half closed as he watched her move. Looking down, she noticed the first few buttons of her camisole had pulled free, revealing part of each breast. She stilled, not knowing what to do. The last time he'd seen so much of her, he'd accused her of exposing herself.
"You're beautiful," he said.
She started to deny it or to say that he'd seen her before, but something in the way he looked at her stopped her. He wasn't just observing, or watching, or staring. He was worshiping.
Straightening her back, Lacy lifted her hands and undid the remaining buttons, then waited, unsure what to do next.
Walker lifted his hand and slowly pulled the thin cotton away from her breasts. For a while he didn't move, he only stared, then he whispered, "I think you are perfection."
She'd never felt beautiful in her life, but she did now.
He leaned up and gently kissed the tip of each breast before buttoning the top button of her camisole back in place.
"Thank you." She closed her eyes as fire rushed in her blood.
"For what?"
"For making me feel..." She didn't know the words to describe her feelings. She sat in a quiet room, but inside she was running full speed into the wind. "I liked you looking at my breasts," she admitted. "Maybe I'll show them to you again sometime?"
Then he pulled her down to him and kissed her soundly, only this time, his hand slipped beneath the cotton of her camisole and brushed over her. When she moaned in pleasure, he tightened his hold on her just enough to send lightning shooting through her veins.
The clocked chimed the quarter hour. Walker raised his head. "I could stay here in this private world of yours forever, but duty calls. It's almost noon. If I'm not in the major's office in a few minutes, he'll come after me." He smiled. "And there are things in this room I'd rather no other man see."
She wanted to pull him back, but she knew he was right. They'd had the morning together in peace; she could ask for no more.
He kissed her cheek. "Will you meet me here, madam, before midnight tonight? There are a few things I'd like you to show me."
"I will," she whispered as he kissed her one last time before leaving.
This time the kiss was filled with a promise.
Lacy joined him, helping him dress as she pulled on her own clothes. He no longer acted angry and accepted her fussing over him, touching her as she touched him, enjoying her closeness as she helped him.
By the time she buttoned his jacket, he appeared strong as ever. No part of the wounded man who'd returned from battle remained. The bloody uniform with no rank on it lay in a pile on the floor. He now wore a uniform tailored only for him with his rank in plain sight.
'Tell me what happened while you were gone, Captain. Why did you wear those clothes?"
"Some other time, Lacy. I promise." He smiled as if they shared a secret. "But not in bed. I never want to talk of what I do in the army when we're in our private world."
"Fair enough," she agreed as she opened the door.
He brushed her bottom with his hand as he passed her and walked out.
She smiled. His touch had been light.
She stepped out on the porch and watched him salute Hayes, then turn and march to the major's office without a backward glance.
Lacy folded her arms and turned to see what Hayes needed.