Decker nodded his approval. “I reckon you’re right. ‘Cept for the ones actually doin’ the guardin’.” He went back to watching the “soldier.”
Clark didn’t like the speculative gleam in the old scout’s eyes. He was probably thinking she was his mistress, smuggled into camp in uniform.
“Miss Huntington,” he said. She turned toward him, sorrow evident in her dark eyes. “Have you met Carl Decker? Mr. Decker, this is Colonel Huntington’s daughter.”
“Short Deck,” Decker croaked, then cleared his throat “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but is there a reason you’re in that getup?”
She gave him her most brilliant smile. Clark could feel the force of it even in profile. “All the ladies are wearing these back east,” she said, plucking at the shoulders of the wool blouse. “Though I personally think it needs a little decoration. A couple of bows or something. What do you think?”
Decker grinned, showing tobacco-stained teeth. “Maybe it needs a medal or two.”
Her eyes brightened. “Medals! I hadn’t thought of that. Do you know where I could get some?”
“If I had any, I’d hand them over right now. Maybe the lieutenant has earned hisself a few.”
She turned her smile on Clark. Her eyes were fairly dancing. “What do you think, Lieutenant?”
She was quite a picture, her dark hair curling around her collar and ears, her dimples bracketing smiling pink lips. Every curve of her body outlined by the uniform. “I think you should go back to your wagon.”
Her eyes went from teasing to knowing. Damn, she could guess why he wanted her to leave. He didn’t like the way Decker watched her. Or the fact that she was practically flirting with the man. She thought he was jealous. He wasn’t, of course. She was under his protection, and her flirting made that a more difficult job. He kept his face impassive as she grinned at him.
“Well,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. It was nice meeting you, Short Deck. I’ll leave it to Lieutenant Forrester to explain my presence as best he can. Good night”
Out of habit, Clark stood as she stood. Resuming his seat, he tore his eyes away from the retreating figure only to discover that Decker hadn’t “She’s traveling with the supply train because the public transportation has temporarily shut down.”
Decker didn’t turn toward him. “The getup your idea?”
Clark couldn’t resist a laugh. “No, that was hers. She believes it won’t attract the Indians’ attention.”
“Sure as hell attracts everybody else’s.”
“I imagine she’s aware of that, as well.”
Decker turned and laughed. “She gettin’ to ya, Lieutenant?”
Clark had his expression back under control. “She’s my commanding officer’s daughter.”
Decker was still grinning. “You’re a better man than I am if you let that stop you.”
Clark didn’t respond.
“Ah, well,” Decker said, coming to his feet with more agility than Clark expected, “I better find my roll and turn in. See ya in the morning, Lieutenant.”
“Good night.”
Clark gazed into the darkness beyond the fire. He tried to consider what the scout had said, but found himself thinking about Miss Huntington instead. “Medals,” he muttered. If he could deliver her to her father without touching her, he would deserve one.
It was best not to even think about her. He would think about Annie; that should bring him back to his senses. Oddly enough, he had a little trouble remembering her face. He remembered the pain when she turned down his proposal, however.
When he got word that his uncle had died, he had requested leave to go home and asked Annie to join him. He had pictured a small wedding with some of his family but had offered to marry her in Dodge before they left. He had known he would be reporting to the new fort upon his return.
She had turned him down. Life as a soldier’s wife wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to move from fort to fort and worry about her husband every time he rode away. And he couldn’t blame her.
He didn’t feel heartbroken, exactly. But she had been a sweet, quiet, gentle woman who would have made a good helpmate. If she couldn’t tolerate his life, what woman could?
He shook off the loneliness. He would miss Annie, of course. And that was why he found his teasing little charge at all attractive. And no doubt that explained why he kept picturing one of his medals dangling from the breast of her uniform blouse.
“He sent out a hunting party,” Brooks announced as soon as Rebecca crawled into the seat beside him.
“You’re sure?” Rebecca caught sight of the bay as the column started up an incline. He was closer than he had been the day before. Half the troops had been pulled out of formation and positioned along either side of the caravan.
“Sergeant was asking for the best marksmen,” Brooks said. “Sent out five. Don’t get me wrong, ma’am. I don’t begrudge you a good meal. Nor them other ladies neither.”
“But?” she prompted.
“But nothing. I’m just talking. What did you think of the old man’s story last night? You reckon we’re in for trouble?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t think we’re especially vulnerable. Besides, most of the trouble’s west of here.”
“Ain’t that the way we’re going?”
Rebecca had to grin at him. “As a matter of fact, it is. But didn’t you join the army to fight Indians?”
“No, ma’am. I joined to eat. And I think I made a mistake.”
Rebecca knew the soldier was at least half serious, but she couldn’t help laughing. “The army doesn’t want you getting too fat for your uniform.”
“The army don’t have to worry.”
He smiled but it wasn’t very pleasant. Rebecca turned away, preferring to watch the lieutenant’s back. “Oh, look!” she cried. “Another visitor.”
As before, Forrester stopped the column and rode forward to meet the stranger. Rebecca wished she was with him to know who it was and what news he might have brought. In a moment the two came riding back, but Forrester didn’t signal the column to move. Instead they skirted the troops and cantered toward them.
Rebecca spared the stranger barely a glance. Forrester was such a pleasure to watch. He rode as if he had been born to it, his back straight, his head high. He drew up beside the ambulance with the slightest touch on the reins. She smiled, knowing he had to have seen her watching him.
He showed no sign, however. “Miss Huntington,” he said. “Mr. Kolchek has an invitation for you.”
Rebecca turned to the stranger. Evidently Forrester hadn’t warned him about her attire. It took him a moment to find his voice.
“Miss Huntington,” he said, snatching off his hat. “I understand you’re one of three women traveling with the soldiers.”
“That’s right,” she said, smiling.
“I own a ranch west a ways. It doubles as a stage station. We’d be pleased to have you ladies as our guests at noon. And the lieutenant, if you can persuade him.”
“That’s most kind of you,” Rebecca said, beaming. “My aunt especially will be grateful for the change of scene, not to mention diet”
“And clothes,” Forrester added.
Rebecca