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“Mrs. Parker,” Josiah exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. If there is anything you need, you just let me know and I’ll find it for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fallon. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” she responded with sincerity. “Mr. Cutter and Mr. Winston told me about you.” Leaning closer, she said, “Thank you for finding the tea Mr. Briggs served with lunch.”
Fallon was as hairless as a rock, and right now the top of his head was bloodred, while he shuffled feet the size of snowshoes until a dust storm hovered around his ankles.
“Private Cutter told me you were hoping for tea,” the quartermaster replied. “I had a tin left over from when we had some English visitors a while back. I dug it out and hauled it over to the cookhouse as soon as Ben mentioned it.”
“Well, thank you very much. I truly enjoyed it.”
Seth could have sworn there were stars in her eyes, the way they twinkled.
Fallon was the catalyst that led to a list of introductions so long Seth started confusing names. Neither he nor Millie moved; people just kept filing past, to the point he wondered if some weren’t coming by a second time, just to get another look at her. A part of him couldn’t blame them. She was overly charming, and remarkably, had conversed enough with Cutter and Winston to know a small bit of information about each and every person he introduced her to.
The line finally ended with Jasper and his wife, who invited them to sup at their home tomorrow night.
“That will give you time to settle in, dear,” Ilene Ketchum finished.
Her angular face with sunken cheeks and narrow eyes could never be noted as pretty, but Seth had never known a more benevolent woman, and he respected Ilene’s knowledge and support as much as he did her husband’s. Lying to her, pretending the woman beside him was Rosemary, had Seth’s stomach curdling all over again. It was almost as bad as letting down his own mother.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ketchum, that’s very kind of you,” his supposed wife answered, but she glanced his way before accepting the invitation.
“We’ll be there,” Seth stated, nodding in turn to both women. He couldn’t refuse the invitation, yet he needed to do some serious thinking before the event.
Jasper, a good four inches shorter than Ilene, and twice as round, gave Seth an inquisitive look. His second in command knew about the marriage and the divorce papers—had since the beginning. “I’ll take care of things for a day or two,” Jasper said. “You take some time getting to know your wife again.”
“No,” Seth replied, his insides stiffening. “That won’t be necessary. But thank you for the offer.” The last thing he wanted was to get to know Rosemary—or Millie. He was starting to question in his own mind who she was. Which was ridiculous. The woman beside him was nothing like the conceited little snit who’d insisted, that morning back in Richmond, that no man could resist her body.
He hadn’t touched her then, when she’d claimed he had, and he wasn’t about to touch her now, but he wasn’t going to put himself at her side, either. She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that, and he’d never been one to tempt fate.
“I’ll see you over at headquarters shortly, Jasper,” he said.
The Ketchums departed, and with her hand still holding his elbow, the woman beside him sighed deeply. “I never expected this.”
“What?”
“It’s so...” A blush covered her cheeks. “Civilized.”
“Civilized?”
A tiny frown had formed over her big brown eyes. “Yes, Rose—uh, roses could grow in that garden over there.” She lifted a hand, pointed toward the flower bed Ilene pampered, but the way she’d stuttered had his spine quivering.
“Rose, huh?”
“Yes, roses. They are my favorite flower.”
The innocence in those doe eyes was choking off his air like a hangman’s noose. “Roses for Rosemary,” he said, not quite sure where he’d heard that before.
“That’s what my father always said.”
Her face had softened and the words were almost a whisper, lacking joy. She was missing her father, no doubt. He understood that emotion. His own father had died on the battlefield, but hers hadn’t. No illness, no war. The general just hadn’t woken up one morning in his bed at his Richmond home.
The facts of the death had been forwarded to the fort, as many details as possible. Millicent, the youngest sister, had found their father that morning, and per the report, had been distraught. Seth’s insides jittered again—an odd sensation he recognized and listened to regularly. It was what he’d felt earlier. Intuition that held a warning.
In the few hours he’d known her, he’d understood Rosemary to be a hard woman, and he couldn’t, or perhaps wouldn’t, believe she’d mourn her father after four years. But Millie, though he’d seen her only once that day, sitting in attendance at the wedding, had been softer. She’d actually shed a tear when offering her congratulations after the ceremony. Yes, Millie would still miss her father after four years.
He should offer his condolences, yet he couldn’t do that, either. For if this was Millie, she’d changed. Was now lying through her teeth, pretending to be Rosemary.
“So,” he asked, “what kind of flower did your father relate to you, Millie?”
Chapter Three
Millie pulled her hand off his arm, but instantly wished she hadn’t. His solidness had kept her stable during all the introductions, and she found herself needing that support again.
Squaring her shoulders didn’t help much, but it was all she had. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”
The only movement he made was to lift a dark brow, but it said a lot. Digging deep into the dredges of her mind, she found a fraction of truth to embellish upon. “Millie is...” She drew a deep breath, hoping lightning wouldn’t manifest out of the blue sky and strike her. “Engaged. Millie is engaged to an army man, too.”
This time Seth frowned.
She held her breath.
He took her elbow and guided her along a well-worn pathway. “Really? An army man?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking everywhere but at him as they walked.
“In Richmond?”
Thank goodness. A subject she could discuss freely. There was no reason to lie about Martin. “He’s from Richmond. His family lived only a few blocks away from our house. The three of us grew up together and everyone always said we...that is, the—the two of them would get married. He’s in Texas right now. At a fort there, and Millie is preparing to travel there. Their wedding will take place shortly after she arrives.”
“What’s his name?”
“M-Martin Clark.” The conversation was making her stomach gurgle. If or when Martin learned of this escapade, he wouldn’t be happy. They’d been best friends for years, and he’d been her rock when Papa died, but he wouldn’t be happy to know she was saying such things. Especially not as a cover-up for Rosemary.
“Is that a trading post?” She flinched as she said it. The sign painted the length of the building said precisely that, but she was searching desperately for anything she could use to change the subject.
Seth had stopped beside her, was staring at her thoughtfully.
“Oh, I apologise, you have work to do. Forgive me.” She spun, and a stone caught under the ball of her foot, making her recoil at the sting. It also gave her an answer. “I was just wondering if the trading post might have a pair of boots. These slippers are not made for outdoors.”
His dark eyes went to her feet and then to several men still watching them before he said, “I can spare a few minutes.”
“The fort is so large,” she said, as they started walking again. “It’s like a complete town inside walls.” Working hard at sounding normal, she added, “Mr. Cutter said there’s a hospital and a church here.”
“On the other side of the barracks, along the back wall.”
His answer was clipped, and Millie bit her lips. Rosemary had said they’d be living in tents and cooking over campfires. Though, in the next breath, she’d insisted it was completely safe and that Millie had to go.
Quietly, not wanting to draw his attention, she let the air out of her lungs. Pretending to be Rosemary might not have been the best idea, but after her abruptness, Seth would probably believe she was Rosemary now.
Oh what a tangled web we weave. Another one of Lola’s sayings. It didn’t help any better than the first one had.
Seth stepped to the side as they neared the door, allowing her to enter first. Millie showed her appreciation with a nod, not trusting her mouth to open again. Upon entering the dark and crowded store, she wanted to take hold of his arm again. The space was crammed with shelves, barrels, crates and tables full of merchandise, and Indians. Lots of Indians. Her heart started beating erratically.
“This way,” Seth said, walking around several tables stacked high with merchandise.
Very few windows let light into the area, not that sunlight would have helped. She had to get over this. Nothing had happened for her to fear the Indians, yet the way they looked at her had her inching as close to Seth as possible when he stopped to speak to someone.
“Here,” he said, pulling over a stool. “Sit down.”
“I’ll have to measure your foot, ma’am.”
Millie gulped, glancing toward a burly man with a straggly gray beard hanging almost to his belly.
“I don’t get much call for women’s boots,” the bearded man was saying as he knelt down near the stool.
She sat, and inched the hem of her dress just high enough to display her day slippers.
“I’ll have to order them. It won’t take much more than a month or so.” The man measured the length and width of her foot, and then stood, tucking the flat wooden ruler into his back pocket. “I could try to get them faster, but it’ll cost extra.”
“Get them as soon as possible, Jenkins,” Seth said.
“Aye, aye, Major. I’ll see what I can do.”
Seth helped her to her feet, then kept one hand on her elbow. “Don’t see, Jenkins, make it happen.”
“I ain’t got the pull you do, Major, but I’ll get them.” With a tip of his head, which was hairless compared to his face, the man shuffled toward the long plank laid atop two barrels, with several people crowded along it.
“Is there anything else you need?” Seth asked.
Millie shook her head, barely able to keep her eyes from going to the Indians again.
A little shudder rippled through her. “Are they friendly?”
His gaze went to the Indians for a moment. “Friendly?”
She nodded.
He led her out the door, and she sighed at both the bright sunshine and the fresh air. The smell of coffee had been overpowering in the store, yet she hadn’t noticed it until they’d stepped outside.
“For the most part,” he answered, glancing toward a group exiting the building behind them. “When they want to be.”
She shivered again. None of them appeared threatening, but their stares were acute and left her chilled. “Isn’t that why you’re out here? To fight them?”
“No.”
“But you would if they attacked, wouldn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Guess that would depend on why they attacked.”
Even her throat was quivering. “What do you mean, why?”
“They only attack when they want to steal women. Not too many women around here. We’d be better off just turning them over, rather than losing men in a battle.”
Completely ignoring the stones beneath the soft soles of her slippers, she hurried to remain at his side when he started walking again. “The women? You’d just give—?”
“I have work to see to,” he said. “I assume you can make it to the barracks on your own.”
The cabins were only a few yards ahead, and she had no doubt how fast she could make it there and shut the door. Matter of fact, there was probably a rooster tail of dust behind her, but she didn’t care. Her focus was on whether the cabin door had a lock or not.
It didn’t, and Millie was dragging, pushing and shoving one of her trunks to barricade the door when a knock sounded.
“Ma’am?” Ben Cutter said, poking his head in the doorway.
“Y-yes?” she stuttered, breathing hard, mainly because her heart was still in her throat.
“Briggs wanted me to deliver this pot of tea to you. He thought you might like a bit more than you had for lunch.”
“Oh, thank you.” Stepping aside so he could squeeze in the small opening—the trunk was almost in place—she waited until he set the pot and a delicate china cup and saucer on the table. “Mr. Cutter, how many women are here at the fort?”
“Well, let’s see, there’s Mrs. Ketchum, and...”
By the time Ben Cutter was done explaining exactly who the other four women at the fort were, Millie was full of additional questions, which he readily answered.
She listened carefully as he explained that the fort had been built ten years ago, when General Sheridan was campaigning to stop Indian raids on white settlers in Kansas and Texas. He also explained Grant’s peace policy. How it promised tribes provisions if they moved onto reservation land, and how special Indian agents had been assigned to oversee the activities.
Cutter went on to tell her how when General Sherman arrived at Fort Sill several years ago, he’d found several chiefs boasting about the raids they’d initiated on wagon trains and when he’d ordered their arrests, the general had almost been assassinated.
Some tribes accepted the agreement, but others didn’t, and considered the reservations safe havens. A place where no one could retaliate against them.
Millie was fascinated by all this. General Sherman and her father had been close acquaintances. During one of his visits to their Richmond home, he’d appointed her father to oversee the men assigned to this fort.
Years ago she’d learned that Seth was a West Point graduate, and had been in Richmond, the day he’d married Rosemary, to deliver a report to their father about the raids and how rations weren’t being delivered.
Millie asked a few more questions, mainly about the Indians, and Cutter answered them, praising the major for his bravery and leadership in dealing with various tribes. The man made it sound as if everyone at the fort was alive because of Seth’s valor.
Having plenty to think about, Millie thanked Mr. Cutter for all his information, and allowed him to move her trunks into her room before he took his leave.
Papa had rarely spoke about such things with her, but Lola did. The housekeeper insisted Indians were as misunderstood as Negros, and that white folks shouldn’t talk about things they didn’t understand.
Mr. Cutter had just explained that the army was the only law in Indian Territory. He’d also said their duties included protecting the Indians and civilians, while teaching the former how to farm in order to feed their families. More importantly, he’d told her Indians didn’t steal women.
Pacing the floor of the dreary cabin, Millie imagined just how irritated Rosemary would be by all this. Her sister wouldn’t just be frustrated with the surroundings, she’d be furious at the way Seth had purposely frightened her.
A hint of a grin formed. Maybe being Rosemary could be fun, after all.
* * *
The report Jasper was reading aloud—about how the declining cattle drives would leave more tribes without food for the winter—wasn’t holding Seth’s attention. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. At one time the cattle drives had run directly through Indian Territory, and the ranchers had been more than happy to exchange a few head of cattle for safe travels, but the growing rail lines were replacing the drives. They’d had only half as many this year as last.
