The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1)
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~Chapter Three~

 

 

As far as marriage proposals went, Allison was certain that had to be the most unromantic one ever issued.

“I mean no offense to you, but my desire to marry you is unmeasurable.”

He grinned. “Well, I knew you were attracted to me, I just didn’t realize how much.”

What an arrogant man he was. “That was not intended as a compliment.”


That’s all right.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the edge of the table, an easy smile on his lips.


You’re enjoying yourself way too much.”


And you’re not enjoying yourself enough.”


Mr. Tucker, almost three weeks ago when I boarded the stagecoach in Boston, I believed my destination to be Santa Fe, not Indian Territory. Now, after one ill-fated barter with your thickheaded friend, Charles, I missed my stagecoach and you’re telling me that I have to stay here, in a town that I don’t know with no clothes and few funds, or be captured by Indians. I’m sorry to inform you of this, but having fun and enjoying myself are not priorities to me right now.”

His blue eyes, which had been alight with laughter only a moment ago, grew dark and shuttered. “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I should have been a little more sympathetic to your situation.” He went to the worktable, grabbed a loaf of freshly baked bread, and set to work slicing it. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us some sandwiches.”

Her stomach lurched at the mention of food. Had it not been for her stomach, she wouldn’t have missed the stagecoach in the first place. She sighed and sat down. Perhaps a little food was what she needed. Since leaving Freedom three days ago, their meal stops had been infrequent and lacking. Now she knew why.


Miss Pierson,” Mr. Tucker said, turning around to face her. He set a sandwich down in front of her, then grabbed his plate in one hand and hooked his finger through the handle of two tin cups of water and joined her at the table. “I hope you can forgive my cavalier remarks earlier. My intent was never to make light of your misfortune.”

It wasn’t? It sure seemed that way to her. “It’s all right, Mr. Tucker. I’ll just send word to Nicholas and then see if one of the boardinghouse owners will rent me a room until he can come.”

“Nicholas?”

She blushed. “Nicholas Parker, my betrothed.”

“No wonder you didn’t jump into my arms when I proposed,” he muttered.

Despite herself, she smiled. “Well, there’s that, and the fact that I don’t find you nearly as charming as you find yourself.”

“But you do find me a little charming, don’t you?” he asked between bites.


Maybe a little,” she admitted, unable to meet his eyes. It wasn’t his fault she was having one of those days that should be reserved only for the worst sort of criminals. Had they met at another time and place, she would have found him to be rather charming and handsome. Heat rose in her cheeks.


Would you be willing to go for a walk with me after lunch?”


I can’t. I need to send word to Nicholas and work out an arrangement with one of the boardinghouses.”


How about if I go with you?”

Actually, that was a good idea. He was a citizen here. Not only would he know right where the post office was, but he’d also know the owner of at least one of these boardinghouses. Perhaps having him with her would be a good thing. “I’d be delighted.”

“Good, and in the meantime, why don’t you tell me why you gave up the highfalutin life of a Bostoner to travel out this way?”


We’re not Bostoners,” she said before she could think better of it. “We’re Bostonians.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Pardon me, my lady,” he drawled in the thickest, mock New England accent she’d ever heard. “I’ll try to be more refined from now on.”

“See that you do,” she quipped in return; then she shook her head at his grin.


Now that we have it settled you’re a Bostoner soon-to-be a Santa-Fayain, why don’t you tell me why you’d leave such class and society to travel the plains and take up in the dusty clot they call Santa Fe?”

She nearly rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness, but since she was certain that was the reaction he wanted from her, she just shrugged. “Nicholas left to go to Austin last year to start up a bank. He’s just meeting me in Santa Fe because he claims it is the fastest, most comfortable route to get there.” She shrugged and twisted her lips in irritation at his logic about taking the northern route to avoid the heat. She’d have gladly suffered the heat to avoid this recent change in itinerary. She sighed, nothing to be done about it now. When she noticed Mr. Tucker was still looking at her intently, waiting for an answer, she said, “While I might not enjoy the surroundings so much, I’ll enjoy being in his company.”

“He must be quite a fellow for you to leave your home and travel across the country.”


He is,” she said with a wistful smile. “He’s very intelligent and handsome. Oh, and always the best dressed with not a piece of lint on his coat or a hair out of place; and the most skilled dancer you’d ever see grace the ballroom.” She shook her head ruefully. “He was one of the most sought after men in Boston, both for invitations and by fathers who’d like to have him marry their daughters.”

Mr. Tucker grimaced. “He sounds charming.”

“Oh, he’s that, too.” She bit her lip to keep from grinning at the way he scowled.


And you found him so irresistible and charming that you gave up your entire life back East to marry him?”

She nodded once. “Something like that.” He didn’t need to know that she really hadn’t had the option to stay without feeling like she was living off charity. Not that it mattered. She loved Nicholas well enough. He wasn’t overly attentive to her by any means, but he’d always seemed interested in keeping her content.

“If you’re done pining over your suitor, we should be off.”

His words stole her from her thoughts and she blushed. “But of course.”

“Have a good day, Mrs. Lewis, Mrs. Ridgely,” Mr. Tucker called to each of the women who were sitting on a bench out by their shared garden, nodding as they left Mrs. Lewis’ home.

Mrs. Lewis raised her eyebrows in interest and both ladies waved.

Mr. Tucker ignored their reactions and led Allison to the log buildings that made a large square, then nodded in the direction of a little store across the square from Charles’ store. “That’s where we’re going.”

As they reached the door, she nearly fainted when he had the foresight to open it for her.

The inside of the building was dark and dusty. Very few furnishings were scattered around the dank room.

Mr. Tucker walked over to the desk in the corner and came back with a piece of paper, quill and ink.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the paper from his hand. Quickly, she penned a letter to Nicholas explaining her situation and asking him to take the next stagecoach to come rescue her. She blew the ink on the paper dry, then folded it, and sealed it with the wax candle Mr. Tucker handed her. “Now who do I give this to?”

Mr. Tucker plucked it from her fingers. “Me.” He walked across the room and dropped her letter into the shallow basket at the end of the desk where he’d gotten the pen and paper from. “It’s in the mail,” he said with a grin.

She frowned. “Will that go out tomorrow?”


No.”


The next day, then?”

He shook his head.

“Then when will it go out?”


In two weeks.”


Two weeks!”


The post doesn’t run in these parts like it does back East. We get a mail carrier ‘bout once a week—if the weather’s good. He carries the mail all the way from St. Louis to Santa Fe, then turns around and comes back. Since you’re needin’ to get your letter to Santa Fe, you’ll have to wait to send it until he’s travelin’ south again.”


And that won’t be for another two weeks?”


Exactly. He was just here this morning. Had you arrived an hour earlier, you would have been able to send your letter. But as it is—” he shrugged— “you’ll have to wait.”

Of course. “Well, then, when he passes through again—in the southerly direction—I’ll just ride to Santa Fe.”

“And how do you reckon you’ll do that without money?”

She bit her lip. Once again he was right, drat him. She only had eight dollars and fifteen cents in her purse. That wasn’t nearly enough to cover room and board for two weeks. Even if she worked doing some light cleaning around the boardinghouse, she’d likely still owe money. Not to mention her fare.

That’s why he’d said it’d be a month before she’d be able to leave. Well, that wasn’t true. It wouldn’t be a full month. She mentally calculated the time when she’d be able to send her letter to Nicholas—two weeks. Then a week later, when the mail coach was making its way back, Nicholas would be coming. Well, only if he got the letter and could catch the stage before it left. She wouldn’t even
think
of how long it would be if he didn’t. On the positive side, if it all worked out the way she imagined, it wouldn’t be the month Mr. Tucker had led her to believe, only three weeks—but it was close enough.


Shall we go see about your lodging?”


Of course,” she said as smoothly as the lump in her throat would allow.

He nodded and offered her his arm.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked when he steered her through a little ally between two of the buildings. “All the boardinghouses were back that way.” She pointed to the main part of town that they’d just left.


I don’t think you fully understand just where you are,” he said, his voice flat, emotionless.


What’s that to mean?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he led her to an open field where dozens, if not hundreds, of men were lined up, marching. “Come along. I’d like to introduce you to the eligible bachelors of Fort Gibson.”

“I have no interest in taking a suitor, Mr. Tucker,” she said with a frown.


And you’re not. We’re shopping for a husband for you.”

She gasped. “I think not. Have you forgotten I am engaged to Mr. Parker?”

“No. And I’ll wager your new husband won’t be allowed to forget that fact, either.”


What are you talking about?”


Do you remember earlier when I said you’ll make a beautiful bride?”

Of course she remembered when he’d made that ridiculous statement. “Yes. Why?”

“Because you’re about to get married.”


I am not.” She wrenched her arm from him.


If you want to stay here, you are.”

She crossed her arms. “I might be a woman, but I am plenty capable of living alone.”

“And just where do you think you’ll do that? In the barracks?”


The barracks?” She glanced over at all the men dressed in their tan and blue uniforms as understanding washed over her. “Do you mean to tell me this is a military town?”


A fort, to be more precise, but yes.”

Unease similar to what she’d felt earlier this morning settled into her stomach. “Is everyone in this town in the army?”

“Everyone but Charles.”


Then what are you doing here?”


Working.” He stood at attention in front of her and saluted. “Captain Wes Tucker reporting for duty, ma’am.”

She glanced at the soldiers in the field. “It seems you’re a deserter to me,” she quipped weakly.

He grinned. “Actually, today is one of the two days I’ve had a respite in the past year.”


Oh.”


Come along, and I’ll introduce you to the unmarried officers.”

She closed her teeth over the inside of her lip to keep it from quivering. “Is that necessary?”

“Yes.” His tone quiet. “There is nowhere for you to stay here unless you marry.”

Allison’s chest constricted and she searched his face with her eyes. “You’re being serious.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded once. “It is the law here that any unmarried lady shall have precisely one week to choose a husband, or one will be assigned for her.”

Her eyes widened as the blood began rushing to her toes. “One week?”

He nodded once more, swallowing. “If you’d like, I can show you the paper that states this.” Her mind spun and she shook her head numbly as he reached for her limp hand, enclosing it in his and continued to speak. “Miss Pierson, you’ve been deserted in a military fort full of men— men who haven’t set eyes on a pretty woman in a long time. Besides there being no room for you—unless you wish to sway Charles to allow you to stay in his store with him or share a bedroom with the Lewises—it’s not safe for you to remain unmarried, even for a week.”

BOOK: The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1)
13.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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