“Yes, of course,” Rebecca said. In the morning she could contrive to look less wilted.
“I better tell Myrtle I’m home. If I know her, she’s busy with plans for an officer’s ball to honor our guests. She’ll be wanting my orderly to notify everyone.”
Rebecca smiled and waved to him as he came to his feet and left her. She had plans of her own to make. This Forrester, whoever he was, would have trouble denying her request.
Shortly after breakfast, before the day had a chance to become miserably hot, Rebecca made her way toward the commissary. She had put on one of her most flattering dresses, not at all suitable for travel but exactly what she needed to convince Forrester that he wanted three women with his supply caravan. Every soldier she met offered directions. She gave them each a grateful smile, though she was well aware of where she was going.
She saw the tent from a considerable distance. As she confidently approached it she noticed the officer, bent over a field desk. Alerted perhaps by a chorus of “mornin’, ma’am,” the officer came to his feet. The clean-shaven jaw beneath the shadow of the campaign hat belonged to her lieutenant from the train.
What incredibly rotten luck. Her footsteps faltered as she felt a strong desire to turn back. Pride kept her moving toward the lieutenant and put her brightest smile on her lips. “So you’re Lieutenant Forrester?”
He doffed his hat, placing it under his arm, and stood almost at attention. “At your service, Miss Huntington.”
Rebecca bit her lip as she watched him. He was cool and formal; the softly accented voice wasn’t nearly as charming now that it lacked its former warmth. A quick glance told her there was no one close enough to overhear. Still she kept her voice low. “I came to talk about leaving with the supply wagons tomorrow, but perhaps we should talk about what happened on the train.”
“What happened on the train, ma’am? I dallied with the colonel’s daughter. I am aware that I could find myself accused of conduct unbecoming an officer. Are you here to make a deal?”
Rebecca knew her eyes had widened and her mouth was nearly hanging open. She surely looked like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh dear,” she murmured. After a deep shaky breath, she managed a tiny smile. “I was hoping to persuade you not to think too badly of me, but I can see I’m too late.”
She had counted on her words softening him, but they seemed to have no effect His face was as unmoving as his taut body. She gave up all efforts at smiling and whispered, “I’m not a loose woman, Lieutenant.”
“I know that.”
His words offered small comfort. Her hands were shaking, a most unwanted reaction to this man, and she clutched them firmly behind her back. “I just wanted you to kiss me.”
“And I did.” He paused for a moment, and she thought she finally saw a flicker of warmth in his gray eyes. “But it won’t happen again.”
“Pity.” Rebecca knew it was not the ladylike thing to say, but it was the God’s truth. She felt a wave of relief when he gave her a slight nod in agreement
“That it is,” he whispered.
Rebecca gazed at the handsome face, wishing he would smile. His pale eyes, full lips and wonderful jaw brought back very pleasant memories. She shook herself, remembering her errand. “I came to ask if my companions and I could travel with the wagons tomorrow.”
“Do I have a choice, ma’am?”
“If I say yes, will you think better of me?” She smiled her brightest smile and watched for a reaction.
“Perhaps,” he said, as cool as ever.
“Enough that you’ll agree to let us go?” Her smile was beginning to falter. With his next words, it died completely.
“That’s doubtful.”
His oh-so-military bearing and polite-but-cold responses were beginning to wear on Rebecca’s patience. She felt herself close to losing her temper, a big mistake, she knew. She took another deep breath and tried not to grit her teeth. “I’m sure I can convince the general to order you to take us along.”
“I’m aware of that, Miss Huntington.”
They stared at each other for a long moment It took all Rebecca’s resolve to keep from turning away. She broke the standoff with a question she hoped would be appeasing. “What is your main objection to our going?”
“The civilian coaches have stopped for a reason, ma’am. It would be far safer for you to remain here until the problem has been dealt with.”
“But they haven’t attacked soldiers.”
“Not yet, ma’am, but three women along might be all the added temptation they need. I understand they’ve already taken hostages.”
Rebecca considered his words. She certainly didn’t want to put the soldiers in more danger by her presence. With a sigh, she said, “I’ll discuss it with the general,” and turned to go.
“I’m sure you will.”
She didn’t acknowledge his last words.
Clark stood until the swaying bustle had disappeared then sat, staring at the papers in front of him. He had to reconcile himself to the flirt’s presence on the caravan. He hadn’t been honest with her; it wasn’t the Indians he was worried about. It was the trouble she would cause among the troops. She wasn’t the type of woman any man found easy to ignore.
Rebecca felt like dancing. And of course that was exactly what she would be doing soon, though probably not with the handsome young lieutenant.
After she had left him early that morning, she had gone to General Hale’s office. She had said the lieutenant was reluctant to take them, skirting the fact that he had flatly refused. She had suggested a word from the general about her lifelong experience with the army might allay his fears. A mention of her devotion to her father. An allusion to the need of her grieving aunt and cousin to’ be settled in a loving home.
The general didn’t bite.
Next she had gone home, hoping to enlist the help of Aunt Belle, but found her in the midst of planning a ball with Myrtle and incapable of worrying about anything else. In fact, she suspected that the older woman wasn’t particularly excited about venturing into what she called the wilderness.
Shortly before Hale was expected home for lunch, Rebecca had found an onion in the kitchen, rubbed her fingertips against its sliced side, and waited for the general on the porch steps.
Where logic had failed, tears won. The general assured her he would order the lieutenant to take them and make an ambulance available for their use. The afternoon had been devoted to altering some clothes with Alicia as her skilled, though doubtful assistant.
Now Rebecca sat in the Hale kitchen while Alicia pulled her dark thick tresses into a fashionable coil. With the bulk of it pinned in place and decorated with a carved alabaster comb, Alicia turned to retrieve the curling iron from the stove. Rebecca had already fixed her cousin’s hair and fat blond ringlets caressed the curve of her bare shoulder and neck.
“Every man at the dance will want to touch those curls,” Rebecca said.
Alicia gave her a shy smile. “You did a wonderful job, Rebecca.”
“I wasn’t complimenting my work, I was complimenting the way you look.”
Alicia shrugged. “Hold still. I don’t want to burn