Holding the Fort

by Regina Jennings

  Bradley Willis.

  Perhaps Edna was right. Why did Daniel think he could raise two daughters amid so many men of questionable character? But they were his responsibility, and tonight, asserting that responsibility might be something he relished. This was the last straw for the private.

  But before Daniel could step into the hall, he heard a door open. Easing his door open as well, he peeked through the crack and saw Miss Bell in the hallway, her white blouse gleaming in the moonlight.

  His heart dropped as she descended the stairs. Going back into his room, he tossed his saber on his rumpled sheets and watched at the window. As he feared, she emerged from the back of the house. Willis had disappeared into the shadows, where she ran to meet him.

  How had the boy won her trust so quickly? They’d only seen each other once, no twice, at the fort, but here she was, sneaking out, risking her reputation, risking her safety. His concern grew. He pulled on his britches and a shirt, still getting dressed as he hurried down the stairs, while jealousy warred for his soul. His first concern was that she was safe. If Willis laid a hand on her, he’d rue the day. But beyond that . . .

  Daniel peered out the kitchen window. They huddled on the other side of the woodpile, trying to use it as a shield. She was so naïve. She probably felt sorry for Willis after Daniel criticized him at the dinner table. He had to be careful. With her tender heart, he’d probably only increased her infatuation.

  While every bit of manly impulse in Daniel urged him to rush outside, grab the villain by the collar, and haul him to a court martial, he fought for control. A public spectacle would hurt Miss Bell. He couldn’t expose her to the scandal. He ran his fingers through his hair. He had to protect her, even if it meant allowing Willis to go unpunished.

  He tasted the sharp flavor of jealousy, but he had to master it. She was at the fort under his protection. Besides, a woman as beautiful and vivacious as she wanted nothing to do with a widower and father. He couldn’t even stand in a saddle without nearly breaking his neck.

  They were parting. To his relief, he saw no hug, no token pass between them. Willis sulked away, hands in his pockets, while Miss Bell watched him go with wistful regret. She turned to the house. Daniel stepped away from the door but stopped in the dark kitchen. He wished he could ignore the exchange. He wished he could let it go unmentioned and repair the tenuous relationship between them, but he had a responsibility to her and to his government. The meeting had happened on his watch. He couldn’t turn a blind eye.

  The hem of her red skirt was dark as she entered the kitchen, probably damp from the grass. Her white blouse hung off both shoulders, showing what the shawl had hidden during dinner.

  She was exquisite, but she hadn’t dressed that way for him.

  Bending over the lock, she slid it into place and then turned. He knew the moment her eyes adjusted and she saw him standing in the darkness.

  There was no mistaking the silhouette of the man in the doorway.

  “Major Adams!” Her pulse sped up, and she covered her heart with her hand. “You startled me.”

  A match struck. A flame flared as he lit a lamp and adjusted it. He’d dressed in a hurry, his white shirt unbuttoned, his suspenders crooked.

  “Just imagine,” he said, “how startled I was to hear someone entering my house at this time of night.”

  Her throat tightened. He deserved the truth, but for Bradley’s sake, she couldn’t tell him. Instead she’d accept the blame and his contempt.

  She threw her shoulders back. Was this the final straw? Would he send her packing? She lifted her chin and tried to speak with confidence. “I apologize, Major Adams. I should’ve notified you that I was going for a stroll. My room felt confining tonight.”

  There was no escape from the intensity of his gaze. He didn’t mock her. He didn’t call her a liar. But neither did he look away and give her the dignity of pretending to believe her.

  “You may be on a fort, but there are still dangers for a woman alone after dark. And even more danger for a woman who is not alone.”

  Louisa bit her lip. He’d seen her. Did he know who she’d been with, or was he hoping she’d reveal it? She had to maintain her bluff.

  “I feel much better now that I’ve had some fresh air. If you’ll excuse me . . .”

  “That’s it?” he asked. His hair was ruffled, his eyes tender. She shifted her weight, wondering what to do. One minute he looked like he was about to rain down judgment on her, but now he looked as if she’d hurt his feelings. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “I don’t feel like talking.”

  “But I do.” His voice was low, but the calm was deceiving. He had the authority to eject her from the house that very moment. He could summon a troop of men to carry her away, throw her in the guardhouse, or put her in stocks on the village green if they still had such a thing. He was calm, but he was not happy.

  “I apologize again if I’ve displeased you,” she said. “In the future—”

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Why?” He looked genuinely confused. “Are you lonely? It must be difficult for you, here with the girls every day, but that is the task you’ve taken. We could go to Darlington more often, if you’d like to socialize with the ladies there. Whatever it takes, because I want you to be content. You are doing a good job with my daughters, and they . . . and I don’t want you to leave.”

  She was trying to find her footing. He’d gone from commander to employer to now, something else. His plea was more of a personal request than an order.

  “I don’t want to leave,” she said. “This is where I need to be.”

  He held her gaze, conveying how much her statement meant to him. But then he blinked, and the spell broke. With a sigh, he picked up the lantern. “But you will leave. If you are caught alone with a trooper at night, you will leave, and that trooper will be dishonorably discharged. This is a military base, and I cannot bend the rules. Do you understand?”

  Her head was spinning. He’d always been the major. Standing in his rumpled clothes, shirt unbuttoned and hair disheveled, he knew who he was. The boyish looks didn’t change the man.

  Just like her. No matter how acceptable she dressed, she had to remember who she was, and that she was in no way his equal.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite knowing full well that Private Willis had been sent out on patrol and wouldn’t be back for at least a week, Daniel found himself watching for him all day. He wanted someone to take the brunt of his frustration, but he couldn’t bring Willis up on charges without endangering Miss Bell’s reputation. The only thing to do was to send him on an assignment and hope he realized what a mercy was being given him.

  After extended meetings with the officers and scouts today, Daniel should have been longing for home, but uncertainty kept him away. He’d even stayed at the mess hall to eat supper with the troopers—something Jack encouraged him to do more often for morale purposes—but now dinner was over. Was he ready to face Miss Bell? Or more accurately, was she ready to face him?

  He slowed as he approached the house. If only God would lead him to the correct decision. If only God would show him where mercy was warranted and where correction was needed. But wasn’t godly correction a mercy in itself? Daniel shook his head. He’d better leave such thorny questions to the reverends. Miss Bell was probably innocent of any true offense. Maybe she only longed for adult companionship. If so, she would hardly turn to him, not with the way he corrected her at every pass. He wanted to reassure her that this indiscretion alone didn’t ruin his opinion of her. That her actions weren’t irredeemable. As the sun went down, he knew he could delay no longer. He had to return home and deal with the trouble they’d stumbled into the night before.

  But instead of festering resentment, the front door of his house opened to a flurry of fabric, measuring tapes, scraps of ribbon and lace, and laughter. Daniel stood in the doorway as a heavy burden eased off his shoulders. Miss Bell
had taken his advice in stride and was proving her maturity, even as she laughed like a girl with Caroline and Daisy.

  The wife of the last post commander at Fort Reno had left behind an old broken sewing machine in the attic of Jack’s quarters. A few hours with the fort’s smith, and it was spinning in his parlor, much to the delight of the ladies. Daniel had imagined sewing to be a quiet pastime. He’d never heard a word from the girls when they were at their embroidery hoops. Then again, he couldn’t be sure that they’d ever finished a single embroidery project, either. He’d never thought to ask.

  The machine creaked as Caroline pedaled it. While the material was feeding through smoothly, they chattered excitedly, but then it snagged, and howls and protests filled the air.

  This ruckus was at least productive. And they were having fun. Thanks to Miss Bell.

  She stood behind Caroline, her white blouse demurely covered with the shawl again. No perfect shoulder visible, just her fetching eyes. Her skirt was another extravagant piece of work he’d never seen before. Canary yellow with rich, chocolate fringe edging it and gathered in the back to make a—he caught himself, wondering at his attention to her outfit. Well, if he wasn’t currently living in a tailor shop, he wouldn’t be as observant of the details.

  “Yes, just keep it feeding through. Slow down a little when you come to the curve.” Miss Bell’s thick blond curls were gathered over one shoulder, leaving her neck bare on the opposite side.

  “Pa, look what we’re doing!”

  Daisy’s announcement startled the governess. Her eyes rose to meet his, shy, uncertain, and oh so blue. He wanted to help her, and the only remedy was to see that she didn’t find herself lonely again. If necessary, he was willing to sacrifice his own time to entertain her. In fact, he had a pastime she might find diverting enough to keep her out of trouble once the girls were asleep.

  He entered the room and crouched next to Daisy, his boots squeaking as he knelt. “Is that for your dress?”

  She beamed and held up a wicked-looking pair of scissors. “It is. Miss Bell measured it for me. She said that she’s going to add a touch of—”

  “Shhh.” Miss Bell’s finely arched eyebrow rose. “I thought we were keeping it a secret.”

  Daisy covered her mouth, her eyes dancing.

  For that moment with his daughter, he’d forgive Miss Bell just about anything.

  Caroline had yet to look up from the sewing machine, so intent was she. It’d been years since he’d seen her take such an interest in anything—besides uniformed soldiers and rebellious boomers. He’d gone a whole day without worrying about where his daughters were or what they were doing. Proof that he had to find a way for Miss Bell to succeed here.

  “You worked late today,” Miss Bell said. Her eyes flicked to the window. “And I just realized how poor the light is in here now. Girls, we should gather our things up for the night. You mustn’t strain your eyes.”

  The sewing machine continued to whirl until Caroline reached the end of her piece. She snipped the threads, then held it up for inspection. “My shoulders are tired,” she said, “but we got a lot done.”

  Not knowing where the odd scraps of material belonged, Daniel stood aside as they tidied their work, then gave each of his daughters a kiss on the cheek as they went up the stairs for the night.

  “Do you need help?” he asked Miss Bell.

  “No, thank you. I thought I’d work on my own dress, now that the girls have gone up.”

  He wanted to mention that it was just like her to put their needs before her own, but it felt like too personal of a compliment. Having no excuse to stay, he headed for his office. All the new dispatches had already been delivered to him in person. So why did he spy an envelope beneath his ledger? As Daniel slid it out, he could feel something inside it. Something besides paper. Taking his letter opener, he cut a slit in the envelope and grasped a dainty square of lace. What in the world?

  He held it before him. It was a lady’s handkerchief. Delicate and showy. Not the least bit useful. He picked up the envelope again, but there was no name on it. Then he remembered Jack’s message. He’d said the washerwoman had found it, didn’t he? In Daniel’s jacket pocket? There had to be some mistake.

  “Major Adams, do you want me to put out the lamp in the parlor?”

  He dropped the handkerchief on his desk and came to meet Miss Bell at the door of his office. Now that the house was quiet, she seemed embarrassed to face him. He wanted her to shake off their last encounter and act as his peer. An equal was hard to come by when isolated with only the men under his command.

  But what would give her the courage to face him? Daniel had an idea.

  “I have a favor to ask, if you have a minute.” At her startled expression, he added, “It’s nothing important, just a diversion.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as she thought through her next move. Seeming to sense no danger inherent in the offer, she accepted. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I know so little about you, but there’s one thing I’m becoming more and more sure of.”

  Louisa’s throat jogged. Did she not know what he was talking about?

  To end her misery, Daniel stepped back and gestured grandly to his chessboard, where their game was already in progress. “Someone has been challenging me on the board.”

  She hiccupped. He smiled at the now-familiar response, a sure sign she was nervous.

  “You aren’t upset?”

  He pulled the chair out for her. “You have no idea how thrilled I am. I haven’t had a true opponent in ages.”

  His chest loosened as she accepted his invitation. She arranged her yellow skirt between the arms of the chair, but her focus was already on the board. Her blond curls swung forward as she leaned closer, tucking her hands beneath her as if to prevent herself from making a premature move. Daniel stroked his jaw in pure enjoyment at the prospect of such a beautiful challenger. How was he ever going to concentrate on the game?

  “Take your time,” he said. “There’s no hurry.”

  The flash of confidence in her smile took his breath away. “I’m ready when you are,” she said and moved her rook.

  Who was this woman? One minute she was all fragile beauty, the next extreme confidence. Judging from her demeanor, she felt safe at the chessboard. She felt secure. She obviously felt she couldn’t fail.

  But she could, and it only took a few moves.

  “Check,” he said. His black rook moved into line with her king. And no sooner did he make the move than he wished someone would sock him right in the nose. Why hadn’t he played a little more gently with her? If he won too easily, she wouldn’t want to play him again.

  But if he expected her to crumple, he was surprised. Instead, with lightning precision, she swung her knight around to wipe out his rook. Daniel let some tension out of his shoulders. He should have seen that coming, but surely she’d make another mistake. Players without patience often did.

  While he studied the board, she studied the room. As he worked out the tactics he’d need to corner her king, he occasionally looked up to see her reading the spines on his bookshelf. Once, just before he was ready to commit to a move, he caught her watching him—which was fair, he supposed, since he’d spent hours studying her. With a bold move, he slid his bishop across the board to pick off her knight. Then he kicked his foot over his knee and leaned back, ready to accept her congratulations.

  Her hand shot out. A piece tapped against the board. “Checkmate,” she said. But before he could recover, she made an even more shocking pronouncement. “And what’s my handkerchief doing on your desk?”

  She was probably seeing things, but Louisa bounded to his desk and picked up the lacy cloth. Where had she lost it? Here? She knew she’d had it at the Red Fork Ranch, but after that, she hadn’t seen it. Holding it in her hand, she smoothed it with her thumb. It had been freshly laundered, but in a fold of the lace was a stain the laundress had missed.

  “That’s your ha
ndkerchief?” Major Adams sounded as shocked as she felt. The pieces on the board could only move in prescribed ways, but Major Adams surprised her at every turn. Who was he now? The commander of the fort who’d chastised her about leaving at night, who had the power to send her packing, or the gentleman who seemed to enjoy her company?

  “Did someone bring it from the Red Fork Ranch?” But as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. She had an uneasy feeling she might know where she’d left it after all.

  Major Adams began to clear the board.

  “You win,” he said, then, “Do you mind if I close the door?”

  “I don’t mind.” But she barely suppressed a hiccup as she settled into her chair and tried to hide between the arms. What could he want to say that warranted a closed door? She was already in trouble for meeting with Bradley. Was he now going to criticize her behavior at the ranch?

  He returned to the table, his hand trailing over the back of her chair on his way to his own seat. How little the table looked as he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees.

  “I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable, Miss Bell, but there’s something we’ve never talked about—an event that we share.” His handsome face looked apologetic. “It only exposes myself as an immature—”

  “Then why—”

  “Because I believe in knowing the truth, even when the truth is uncomfortable. Are you comfortable with the truth, Miss Bell?”

  Louisa folded her hands in her lap. The truth could destroy her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The truth will set you free, right? That’s what you and your missionary friends teach us, anyway. Well, I’m ready to be set free. You see, I have a question I’ve wanted to ask.” He took a deep breath. His shiny boots shifted on the floor. “That day when you found me by the creek, why did you do what you did?”

  Louisa wet her lips as she saw him again, injured, helpless. How much more she knew of him now. How unbelievable that she’d cradled him in her lap and brushed the dirt off his face.