The morning was fresh and bright, a perfect day for a picnic, she decided. The thought of spending the afternoon with Captain John Welch was a pleasant one. She had tried to remind herself that she was not looking for involvement with any man, especially on a brief visit to the frontier. Still, she was reluctant to admit there had been a quickening of her heartbeat when the dashing young officer rode up, leading a horse for her. God, she thought, he is a handsome devil. She could see that any young girl might be mesmerized by the finely chiseled features and the regal mane of dark black hair that never seemed out of place, even in such crude surroundings as Camp Supply.
Her first impression of the young doctor, that he was a harmless flirt, had been somewhat tempered in her conversations with him over the past few days. He seemed to be genuinely taken by her and she had to admit that she found it to be more than a little disturbing to her sense of control. Was she at last beginning to feel the amorous stirrings that preceded infatuation? I must sweep such thoughts out of my mind right now before I start wondering what it would be like to be in his arms, she told herself.
“Sarah, you look as bright as the morning sun. Are you ready to go?”
She favored him with a warm smile and replied, “Why, thank you, sir. Yes, I’m ready.” He helped her up in the saddle and they rode out across the rough parade ground toward a small clump of willows that lined the banks of the shallow stream, no more than a quarter of a mile from the command tent.
What happened that day, in the balmy shade of the willows, came as a complete surprise to Sarah Holder. She had no plans to fall in love with the handsome young army surgeon. Her thoughts of him, up to that day, had been mere flights of fantasy, solely to amuse herself. John Welch, on the other hand, had thought of nothing but the wooing and winning of the colonel’s daughter. In his eyes she was the perfect candidate for a career officer’s wife…beautiful, vivacious, educated…and the daughter of a colonel.
Though somewhat calculating in his thoughts of capturing the prize that was Sarah Holder, still he had to admit that he was totally charmed by the young lady and might have sought to woo her even had she not been the colonel’s daughter. He had already decided he was in love. Sarah had yet to discover her infatuation. After the horses were tied to a willow, John spread a cloth beside the stream. He selected a spot just below the rise of the bank so as not to be in constant view of the camp.
“I’m afraid it’s not what you might call an elegant lunch,” she commented cheerfully. “But I think Sergeant Ortiz did a wonderful job under the circumstances.” She held up a biscuit for him to see. “It could be a crumpet if you exercised your imagination a bit.”
He laughed and reached to take it from her, his fingers brushing hers. “It is the most elegant of picnics if only because I’m sharing it with you.”
She blushed. “Why, Captain Welch, are your flirting with me?”
His expression sobered and he reached out and took her hands in his. “No, Sarah, I’m not. It’s far beyond that. I’m in love with you.”
His blunt declaration of love sent her senses reeling. She had not been prepared for it. The shock must have shown in her eyes because John recoiled as if he had been rebuked. He quickly stammered, “Please, I don’t mean to be too forward. I hope you’ll forgive my bluntness but I hope you feel…” He didn’t finish the statement. “I’m sorry. Have I offended you?”
The concern in his eyes melted her heart. “No, John, I’m not offended. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. That’s quite a mouthful, combined with Sergeant Ortiz’s biscuit.”
“Damn. I really feel like an ass…a simple schoolboy.” He released her hands. “Do you want me to take you back?”
She reached out, taking his hands in hers. “No, of course not. I don’t want you to take me back. I want to stay here and talk and have our picnic.”
Encouraged, he pressed her for an answer. “Do you feel anything at all for me? Or am I in this thing alone?”
She laughed. “This is all a little too sudden for me.” Before his face could cloud up again, she added, “But, yes, I feel something for you.”
At once his smile returned and once again there was hope in his eyes. “Oh, Sarah, I do love you and if you’ll give me the chance, I’ll make you love me.” He did not wait for her to respond. “You know, I won’t be assigned to this godforsaken outpost for long. We could go back East. If the army won’t transfer me back, I’ll resign my commission and go into private practice.”
Sarah could not help herself. She could feel herself being caught up in the excitement of his proposal and had to force herself to remain in control. She looked deeply into his eyes, seeing a new image of Captain John Welch, one that she found desirable. “Let’s not rush into anything. You haven’t even given me time to catch my breath.”
“Do you love me?” he asked bluntly.
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Yes, I love you.” She blushed, surprised by her own answer.
He pulled her closer to him. He kissed her. She let him, passive at first and then she returned it, having found the passion that she knew was in her but until that moment had never been permitted to surface.
The midday sun was warm as it embraced the two lovers lying on the army blanket beneath the willows. John was eager to love her and she responded to his passion. He drew her closer and closer to him until their bodies were pressed together as one. The young doctor was intoxicated with the magic of the moment. His fire engulfed her and she was swept away in the tide of his passion. She had not thought to let it go that far. The afternoon ended all too soon.
“Let’s just keep this our little secret for awhile,” she said when it was time to go back.
“Whatever you say, darling. I’m just the happiest man in the world.”
Afterward, when she was alone in her tent, thinking of the incredible change that had taken place on that day, she found it almost too much to believe. Had it really happened? It must have. She could still feel the fire that had raged through her thighs, leaving her weak and warm. But was she really in love? Or was it the passion of the moment? Possibly the surroundings she found herself in inspired a disproportionate balance between infatuation and genuine love. And John Welch would not have overwhelmed her so had the location been in the park in Baltimore instead of this isolated outpost. Mrs. John Welch? Could it be possible? I guess it could, Sarah girl, she told herself. You could do a whole lot worse.
* * *
“So, Mr. Coles, I see you’re still with us. I thought you might be riding out after your renegade.”
Jason turned to see Sarah Holder approaching the mess tent where he stood drinking a cup of coffee. “Morning, Miss Holder.” He watched, amused, as the colonel’s daughter glided through the group of men standing around the tent, causing them to jump to attention, stumbling over one another to get out of her way. She graced the assembly with her smile and thanked Sergeant Ortiz for the cup of coffee he had hastened to fetch for her. It was her nature, Jason decided, to shun the privacy of her tent and ignore the breakfast no doubt delivered there for her convenience. The cook, expecting a complaint and consequently a dressing-down by the colonel’s daughter, fumbled for words.
“Can I help you, ma’am? Was something wrong with your breakfast? I can sure cook you some…”
“Oh, it was fine, very good.” She didn’t let him finish. “I just thought I’d like some more coffee.” Her smile put the flustered man at ease.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
Jason, enjoying the havoc the little lady could wreak just by showing up in the mess tent, said nothing until she turned to face him again. “You better be careful with that coffee. That tin cup will blister your lips.” He figured the coffee served with her breakfast might have been sipped from a china cup.
“Thanks for the warning but I’ve had coffee from an army cup.” She settled herself on a camp stool and smiled up at the tall scout. She said nothing for a few moments, her smile seemingly frozen on her face and Jason realized that he was staring at her…and she was aware of it.
“Well,” he blurted abruptly, “I reckon I better get to work.”
“You’re always running off someplace, Mr. Coles. I declare, I believe I must have that effect on you.” She flashed her smile again and pretended to be offended.
Jason considered her coquettish gesture for a moment before answering. “No, ma’am, I wouldn’t say that. I figured Captain Welch was taking care of the social activities for you.”
His remark brought a twinkle to her eye. It pleased her that his thoughts were running along that vein. Maybe he looked upon the surgeon as competition. Was it possible this rough-hewn frontiersman was not as indifferent to her charms as he had taken pains to show. She pretended to concentrate on the hot cup of coffee in her hand as she studied the rugged face that under her gaze seemed to appear slightly flushed. She could not deny a keen fascination for the man her father had described as more Indian than some full-blooded Cheyennes. She decided to probe his intentions a bit further.
“We had a delightful picnic in the willows yesterday. Captain Welch arranged for a basket from Sergeant Ortiz, and I must say, it was surprisingly elegant.” She watched his face closely for his reactions. “I wish you could have joined us,” she added.
Jason began to fidget. He was uncomfortable with the conversation and he realized he was being drawn into a childish game with a girl barely out of her studies. “Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t reckon I’m much on picnicking.”
She pursed her lips, pretending to pout. “I may tell my father that you are neglecting me,” she teased. Something about the rough-hewn scout made her want to tease him. He was so obviously uncomfortable with her playful attempts to embarrass him.
He grunted. “Huh, I reckon your daddy might want to spank your bottom for even talking to the likes of me.”
“Why, Mr. Coles”—she pretended to be offended—“what a thing to say to a lady.” Her face, a stern mask for a moment, quickly broke into a mischievous grin. “I think I’m going to insist that you take me on a picnic.”
Jason laughed. “I think you ain’t only gonna get your bottom spanked. I think you’re gonna get me fired to boot.” In spite of her flirtatious conversation, he knew better than to think the young lady had any interest in a man as unrefined as he. She was playing with his emotions, like most young girls, he figured. It was the second time he had been teased that day and the sun wasn’t even high in the sky yet. Although he had to admit that this time was not as gruesome as the episode with the eyebrow. He gulped down the last few swallows of his now-cold coffee and handed the cup to a private behind the table. “Much obliged,” he said. Nodding to Sarah, he said, “Enjoyed talking to you, Miss Holder. I hope you have a pleasant day.”
* * *
His common sense told him there was nothing between the young lady and himself. Still he could not put the flirtatious conversation out of his mind. Now, almost an hour later, he found himself riding past the little stand of willows where Sarah and John Welch had picnicked the day before. For no reason he could explain, he dismounted and walked over to the stream. The grass was still depressed where they had spread the cloth and sat to have their picnic. He could not help the sinking feeling in his heart when his trained eye told him the grass was flattened a little more than normal if two people were simply sitting and eating. He did not want to let his mind pursue the thought. He wasn’t sure why he was wasting his time there, or why his thoughts were of a melancholy nature. Maybe Sarah’s presence in camp, and more specifically her tendency to flirt just a bit, had triggered a need in him that he had managed to suppress until then.
His was a lonely life. There was no regret, however. He had chosen it. In fact, he realized he could live no other way. The freedom he possessed was more than a preference for him. It was essential, for he had found early in his life that he could not tolerate a crowd of people for very long. For that matter, he was almost certain he could not tolerate but one person for a long period of time. And that one person had been taken from him more than ten years ago when that coach had careened over the side of a mountain. For that reason, he had never even considered the possibility of marrying.
Now this young girl, fresh as a spring morning, comes into his life and awakens troublesome emotions within him, and with no more than a few harmless comments that he chose to interpret as flirting. He stood silently staring at the fading impressions in the grass. “Wake up!” he scolded, “standing here like a damn fool!” Why, he wondered, would a young thing like Sarah Holder even look at a rough-shod grizzly like himself? Shaking himself mentally, he discarded his foolish daydreaming and told himself he had let his imagination run away with him. He decided to put the girl out of his mind and get back to the business he was being paid for, to track down a murderer.
It was by pure accident he noticed it, one bent branch of a willow. Even then it would have escaped his sharp eye if he was not naturally alert for signs. He stopped to examine it and then he decided to take a look further down the bank. Barely twenty yards from the picnic site, he found a footprint. A more thorough search revealed several prints, enough to give him a vivid picture. The moccasin prints were about a day old. There was no doubt in his mind that they were Cheyenne and he was dead certain they belonged to one Cheyenne in particular, Stone Hand! Jason recreated the scene in his mind. The savage had watched the afternoon picnic of Sarah and Welch from no more than a few yards away. Once again the boldness of the renegade shocked Jason as he formed the picture of the girl and her escort, eating and talking, unaware of the rattlesnake leering at them. Sam Running Fox’s words echoed in his ears. Stone Hand goes where he wants.
But why did he not act? Jason asked himself. The man lived only to kill as often and as many as he could. Why did he spare these two? The thought of Sarah chatting gayly, mesmerizing the young doctor with her lilting laughter while no more than a stone’s throw away a dark and menacing killer silently watched, sent a shiver down his spine. Stone Hand could have easily slipped in and cut both their throats. But he didn’t. Why? The more he thought about it, the more he was struck by the complexity of the man he hunted. The man’s ego was enormous. He was playing another game. And Jason was convinced that he was Stone Hand’s chosen opponent in that game. Looking over the tracks again, he began to see more than the obvious evidence that a man had stood watching the young couple. It was too obvious, certainly for a man who could make a trail of seven horses disappear. Stone Hand intended for Jason to find his tracks. He was telling Jason once again that he could go anywhere he chose, when he chose. It still didn’t explain why he had not killed them, unless it was just another mind game he was playing with Jason. Stone Hand most likely knew Sarah was the colonel’s daughter. If he wanted to cause as much injury to his white enemies as possible, stealing the colonel’s daughter was the way to do it. This was the way an Indian would think, to bring personal distress to an enemy was better than killing any number of nameless troopers. Jason was sure now that the savage meant to kidnap Sarah Holder. But first, to satisfy his sadistic ego he felt the need to flaunt his intentions in Jason’s face, daring him to stop him. At once there was an urgency to act. Jason knew Stone Hand would strike soon. He had to warn Colonel Holder.