Courting the Corporal

by Heather McCorkle

  “I see heavy thoughts behind those handsome eyes,” Cat said in a playful tone.

  He hoped his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. Mustering his will, he drew back as far as her arms would allow him. “I’ve disrespected you and the MacBranains by taking liberties with your affections.”

  Cat laughed, hard and abrupt, as if the fit surprised even her. The sound sent fantastic thrills down through his core. Damn but she had a way of undoing him that made him want to beg for more. Light as feathers, her hands trailed down his arms, sending wonderful chills throughout his body. Her eyes narrowed into a sly look that pumped blood straight to his groin.

  “Why, Patrick Fergusson, what on Earth makes you think you’re the one taking liberties with me?” she said.

  He muttered a prayer to the saints in Gaelic. The look of desire his words stirred in her eyes made him ache and swell all at the same time. “You are a marvel, woman, unlike any high society lady I’ve ever met,” he said.

  She gave him a coy look. “Someday maybe I’ll tell you why.”

  “I’d like that. I want very much to get to know you better.”

  Her long lashes batted as she pulled away and turned back to Galiha. “Do you now?”

  The bait was too delicious not to take. He walked up behind her, put his hands on her hips and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I think perhaps I do.”

  She shivered but recovered quickly with a flip of her hair. “You think?” she asked.

  He leaned down and kissed her neck. “I know,” he said in a husky voice right against her skin.

  The sigh that slid from her just about melted the rest of his resistance. Just about. When she leaned back into him he moved away. He stepped around to her side, waiting until she faced him. “But I think that nurse might have been onto something.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “How so?”

  “About us courting. I think that’s a fine idea.”

  “Do you now?”

  “You say that a lot.”

  One corner of her lips rose. “Do I?”

  “You do.”

  With a flourish, he took hold of one of her hands. Doing so without gloves on would have been quite improper in the circles she was used to running in, something he was acutely aware of in that moment. But she didn’t pull away. Of course she didn’t. Not only had they been far more intimate than mere hand-holding, but she truly wasn’t like other high society ladies. Certainly not like the one who kept him running in fear from every emotional connection that tried to form. Until now. Cat had broken that cycle.

  “I have sent off a telegram to Sean, telling him that I intend to court you officially, should you accept me offer,” he said.

  Her eyes flew open wide. “You have?”

  Suddenly fearful that he had misread her feelings, he swallowed hard. Old feelings of insecurity tried to edge their way back in. She gripped his hand tighter, banishing them.

  “What I mean to say is, I’m honored. But, Rick, I’m a broken woman.” Her eyes dropped from his halfway through her words.

  Rather than forcing her to look back up, he just leaned his head against hers. “And I’m a broken man. There’s no harm in us getting to know each other better. That’s what courting’s all about, after all,” he said.

  She was quiet for so long that anxiety began to worm its way around his heart. What if she had only been flirting with him and didn’t desire anything more? All manner of other doubts started to work at him.

  “You, o’ course, have my utmost respect, and I won’t ever take liberties with your affections that might compromise you,” he promised. And he meant every word of it. Propriety was a thing he liked to toy with, but honor was another altogether.

  Cat whisked away from him, thrusting her head up into the air. “Your terms are acceptable, Mr. Fergusson. I agree to the courtship,” she said.

  Using the excuse of brushing Galiha, she ducked around the other side of the horse. “But I make no such promises about not compromising you,” she said in the same formal tone she had used to accept his offer.

  Mouth dropping open, he stared at her over Galiha’s back. The twinkle in her eyes made his knees want to give out. Exclaiming in Irish, he set to chasing her around the horse again. Outside of the stall, Lincoln barked and put his front feet up on the door. Already, the pup was big enough to see over the nearly five-foot-tall door. Laughing, Rick drew away from Cat.

  “Looks like we’ll have a proper escort to look after you honor,” he said as he scratched Lincoln on the head.

  It was as good an excuse as any to stop short of embracing her. Since they had made it official—or as official as it could be without Sean’s consent—he was determined to do this properly. Mistakes of the past would not be repeated, not with Cat. She was too important to him. He moved Lincoln off the door and forced himself to leave the stall. All manner of improper things might occur if he didn’t. She was too important to him. Appealing as continuing to push the boundaries of propriety was, he couldn’t allow it.

  “We need to get on the trail as soon as possible,” he said.

  A forlorn sigh eased from Cat. “It was so nice to sleep in what serves for a real bed out here. I’ll miss it,” she said.

  Rick halted in midstride and leaned back to look at her. “What, no protests?”

  She sat the brush aside and picked up Galiha’s saddle blanket from where it hung over the stall wall. “O’ course not. We’ve got to make up lost time.” For a moment, she disappeared as she bent down on the other side of the horse. “I sold the mare and replenished our provisions. I hope that’s all right,” she said.

  He loved that she had thought to do that. “Brilliant. Precisely what I would have done.”

  She stepped out of the stall and grabbed the saddle off the rack, struggling a bit with its weight. Intent on helping, he dashed back and opened the door for her. “Let me help with that.”

  Before he could take it from her, she strode back into the stall and slung it up on Galiha’s back. Her enduring independent streak struck him. Even after everything, she still insisted on taking care of herself. Never in his life had he met a high society lady who would put her own saddle on when the opportunity existed for someone else to do it for her. He simply couldn’t figure this woman out, and he loved that.

  “I’ve got it, no worries,” she said through a grunt as she adjusted the cinch.

  “You are a marvel, woman, an absolute marvel.”

  Shaking his head, he left her to it and went to saddle up Ayegi and prepare the packhorse. Less than an hour later, they were mounted up and riding through the gates of the fort. He took them straight to the trail and headed due west at a good trot. It would be the quickest way to make time, but he planned to cut away from it as soon as possible. Only after nearly half an hour did he finally slow the pace to a walk. The huge fort still loomed in the distance behind them, but at least it was behind them.

  “Good to know I’m not the only one eager to leave that place,” Cat said.

  “Truly? Why? I would have thought lingering somewhere with food that wasn’t dried and a bed that wasn’t dirt would appeal to you,” he said. He kept his tone playful, but his real intention was to keep her from asking him why he’d wanted to leave so badly. No need in worrying her.

  Eyes going distant and back straightening into a rigid line, she paused before answering. “They were a little too comfortable behind their wooden walls for my liking. I don’t believe the natives would have been so bold as to attack us that close to the fort if they felt the soldiers were a real threat.”

  It took him several long moments to recover from the shock. When words finally came, they spilled out before he could realize they were likely the wrong thing to say. “You think an awful lot like a man.”

  Jaw tightening and eyes going wide, she looked long and hard at him. “N
ot at all. You’d do well—as would all men—to know that women think just as strategically. We just don’t often speak our minds or get heard when we do.”

  “Me apologies. I didn’t mean it that way.” He attempted to recover.

  Her brows smoothed out. She shrugged as if it were of no consequence. But it was to him, very much so. “I know you didn’t. Most men would mean it precisely that way, but not you.”

  His saddle creaked as he leaned over to touch her arm. “I respect you and your thoughts. Please, always speak your mind with me.”

  Moisture sprung to her eyes and her face went smooth as glass, without expression, as if it could counteract the emotion in her baby blues. Thrusting her head high and flashing him a wicked smile, she said, “I will.”

  Though her voice was teasing, he could read in her posture how serious she was, and how much his words touched her.

  Ayegi perked up when he picked up the reins. “What do you say we put this fort far behind us and get across this state?”

  Hiding a smile, she picked her reins as well. “I say that sounds like a fine idea.”

  A shift of his weight and squeeze of his legs and both Ayegi and their packhorse took off. Cat swung out wide to give the packhorse room to run alongside Ayegi, a formation they had found allowed them to move faster for longer periods of time. Better than that, he found it put her right in his line of sight. Long, red waves of the most beautiful hair he’d ever seen trailed out behind her like a silken banner. He thanked the saints for Ayegi’s sure footing, because with Cat beside him, there was no way he would be able to keep his eyes on the trail. Barking for the sheer joy of it, Lincoln took off running ahead.

  For the first time in weeks, Rick let himself relax. It would only be for a moment, but what a beautiful moment it would be.

  Chapter 20

  Day Twenty-Eight

  Long days spent in the saddle mostly at a trot helped them cut days off their trek across the plains of the Wyoming territory. Unfortunately, it left Cat so exhausted by the end of the day that she scarcely had the energy to stand, let alone court Rick. The tender looks and shared conversation contented her for the time being. No matter how she prodded, Rick kept most things about himself and his family under lock and key. She did learn that he loved this country, sympathized with its natives, and had a knack for farming. Despite all of the knowledge about farming he displayed in their conversations, he just didn’t strike her as a farmer. So much about him remained a mystery.

  Part of the reason for his stress was all too apparent. Though he tried to hide it, she saw him looking over their shoulders all too often. Whether it was Cofield, another of Ainsworth’s men, or natives he worried over, she couldn’t tell. To ask would only make his anxiety worse, so she pretended not to notice. Twice she saw figures in the distance behind them. Rather than point them out, she made excuses to ride harder, faster, and farther. It made for long days and sleepless nights. Some courtship.

  At the western edge of Wyoming territory, as the sun set on their twenty-eighth day, she set her mind to finding out more about Rick. From the high branches of a cherry tree, his voice drifted down to her. “Too bad we can’t make a pie. Me mum used to bake the most amazing cherry pie when I was a lad.”

  She held a blanket out for him to drop the cherries in, moving this way and that as he crawled throughout the tree. Any she missed Lincoln snatched up, then just as promptly spit out, tail wagging wildly all the while.

  “What part of Ireland were your parents from?” she asked.

  “Me mum is from county Cork, but me da is from Edinburgh,” Rick said.

  Surprise froze her in place for a moment, causing her to miss a handful of cherries Rick dropped. Lincoln pounced on them before she could retrieve them.

  “Truly? You’re half Scot?” she asked.

  “Truly. Does that change your opinion of me, duchess?” he asked, tone playful but hiding a hint of concern.

  “O’ course not. But it does explain a few things,” she teased.

  Several cherries pelted the top of her head.

  “Hey! Get down here where I can properly retaliate!” she hollered.

  Laughing, she threw one back up at him, and missed the mark terribly. A squeak of surprise burst from her as he dropped from the tree and landed right in front of her. “How’s this?”

  Another squeak came from her as she dropped the blanket and took off running. Rick chased her around the tree, Lincoln right on his heels. Their laughter and the pup’s barking filled the tiny valley. Soon the laughter got the better of her and she couldn’t run anymore. She collapsed into the tall grass beneath the cool shade of the tree and breathed deep of the sweet yellow buttercup flowers all around her.

  It had been years since she’d felt this relaxed. Considering the constant fear of being chased down and murdered in her sleep, that said something horrible about her life so far. But she wasn’t about to dwell on that right now. A moment later Rick lay beside her, propping his head up with his hand so he could look at her. Lincoln gave one last bark before trotting off to investigate something in the tall grass. Cat’s gaze shifted from the scattering of fluffy white clouds above her to the man at her side.

  Nearly two weeks of beard growth covered his strong jawline and chin in a brown scruff that she very much wanted to run her hands over. Mirth filled his green eyes as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He had been every bit the gentleman he had promised over the last several days. Too much for her liking, really. But it was refreshing in a way that made her feel relaxed and safe in a way she’d never thought she’d feel around a man again. In the beginning of her courtship—if it could be called that—with Michael, he had always secreted her away and pressured her to lie with him. He had only ever been a gentleman when others were looking.

  “You have the most beautiful laugh,” Rick said, pulling her back to the present.

  “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed this much,” she said through a shy smile. Compliments that had nothing to do with how she looked were another thing she wasn’t used to.

  “Meself as well,” Rick said.

  Curiosity seized her as she took in his lazy, contented expression. “You didn’t really like me at first. What brought you around?”

  He lay back down on the ground beside her, folding his hands beneath his head. At first she thought she had pushed too far, too fast. But then she realized if they were going to court seriously, she needed to know him better. Pressing into uncomfortable territory was the only way to do that. She would not make the mistake of getting involved with a man she didn’t know well enough again.

  “You’re different from other high society ladies. At first, I didn’t see that. You seemed just like them in the beginning. But you’ve relaxed, shown me the real you,” he finally said.

  She looked back to the sky. “You make me feel like Cat again, not Catriona O’Brian.”

  His hand found hers and his fingers wove through hers.

  “Well, I’m sorry you ever lost the old Cat. I rather like her,” Rick said.

  The tender tone of his voice touched her so deeply it actually hurt a bit. The few years she had known and been married to Michael, he changed her so much that she couldn’t remember her old self, let alone ever hope to be her again. According to Michael, she had needed to rise up to the standards of his family and social circles. Here this man was saying he liked that woman. It amazed her beyond words.

  They lay together in silence for a long time. It was a comfortable silence that she hated to break, but after a while, she had to know something. “You have a jaded opinion of high society women,” she said.

  “Aye, I do.”

  When he didn’t say more she realized she was going to have to push a lot harder. “Why? Was it something I did?”

  He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, long and tender.
Had she not already been lying on the ground, she may have swooned. “No, not at all.” After a long sigh that sounded like it started in his toes, he went on. “Me parents found a good match for me, a woman of exceptional breeding with a desirable dowry. We got on well enough during courtship that I thought we might be in love.” His voice grew hard at the last sentence.

  Cat waited, giving him the time he needed, watching the drifting clouds rather than him to take the pressure off.

  “We set a date. Then I heard about the 69th regiment. Sean told me he was joining up, to try and make a difference, to make this his country. It seemed like a good cause and I couldn’t let him go alone.”

  “O’ course not,” Cat agreed when he paused again. Such feeling toward his fellow man, and honor toward his friend was admirable—and very attractive.

  The corner of Rick’s lips that she could see lifted into a smile. She opened her mouth to say more but he spoke before she could.

  “I was left standing alone at the altar. She didn’t show up.”

  Red-hot fury blazed through her. “That’s terrible, Rick. To do that to a soldier bound for war…what a horrible thing to do.” The last word broke as tears overwhelmed her. In a moment she recovered and squeezed his hand tight. “But her folly is my gain.”

  Rick rolled over and propped himself up. He moved a lock of her hair from her face and bent down to her, eyes closing. She rose up to meet him. For well over a week she had been hoping he would kiss her again, and she wasn’t about to let him back out of it now. Their lips molded together. The pressure was gentle, with a restrained eagerness behind it. That eagerness both excited and scared her.

  Pushing her fear down, she parted her lip and invited his tongue to chase hers back into her mouth. It did, and the soft sensation of it between her teeth set her on fire. She rose up on an elbow and pressed against him. The feel of his hard chest against her made her nipples rise to attention. Wonderful tingles traveled down through them straight to her core. Rick’s hand slid behind her head and into her hair. She wanted more, needed more. Her free hand moved to his lower back and she pulled him up against her. The hard erection that pressed into her groin made her moan. One of Rick’s hands moved to her left breast, turning her moan into a gasp.