“I swear, Seth, the harder I look, the less I see,” Millie declared, pulling the horse to a stop to study the land. It was like looking at the sea, except instead of rolling waves of water, there was flat ground covered with brown grass that didn’t end until it met the sky at the ridge of the horizon.
His baritone laugh, a sound she’d heard more and more over the past week, had her insides doing somersaults. Fun ones, the kind that made her smile. There hadn’t been any more flower or saddle soap incidents, and a unique kind of truce had formed between them. One she could definitely live with. Seth was by far the most charming and attentive husband imaginable.
He was resting one arm across his saddle horn, and his hat shadowed the upper part of his face as he studied her directly. “That, I think, is the best description of Indian Territory I’ve ever heard.”
The grin on his face made hers increase. She turned back to the empty scene that in an odd way was quite magnificent. “There’s barely a tree.”
“There are trees north of the fort. In the Wichita Mountains.”
“Mountains?” This had been her first excursion outside the tall walls since her arrival, but from what she’d seen during the wagon ride, and from what spread out before her, she couldn’t imagine the flatness becoming mountainous.
“Well, they’re more like foothills,” he said. “It’s a full day’s ride, though, and not a trip I’m willing to let you attempt.”
The hammering of her heart told her what she thought about that even before her mind kicked in. His protectiveness was uncanny, and wonderful. “Oh, you let me travel two hundred miles with two men in a wagon with no canopy, for five days, seeing nothing but prairie grass and red dirt, yet you won’t let me ride for a day to see mountains?”
Not even the sky overhead was as blue as his eyes when he removed his hat. The smile on his face grew, revealing the dimple in his cheek. He winked, and her insides jolted and fluttered so fast and hard her breath locked in her lungs.
“That,” he said, “was before I knew you.”
A heated sensation engulfed her chest, and went lower, all the way past her stomach. Bowing her head, for her face was on fire, she pressed her bottom against the saddle. Goodness, but he had an effect on her. His kindness and generosity had her thinking about things she’d never thought of before. Ridiculous things. Like kissing.
Especially at bedtime, when he’d wish her good-night from her bedroom doorway, the desire inside her grew so strong it was troubling. Pretty much like it was right now.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s time we headed back. I have a surprise for you.”
Her head snapped up so fast her hat jostled. “A surprise?”
She turned the horse around, kept it even with his. The happiness she’d experienced the past week was amazing, and it just kept increasing. Every day she awoke with a newfound freedom. Never before had she been able to climb out of bed knowing there was no merchant she had to confront, no “friend” she had to assure had misheard something her sister supposedly said, and no fear she might accidently say the wrong thing and have her sister as furious with her as she was with the rest of the world. Lately all Millie had to wonder about was how bright the sun would shine. There was still the pretense of her being here, but Seth never brought it up, and that was utterly liberating.
Glowing inside and out, she asked, “What kind of surprise?”
He reached over and tipped the brim of her hat lower. It was dark blue with a flat brim, an army-issued one just like his, but smaller, and he’d fastened a string through the felt to tie beneath her chin.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”
“I can keep a secret,” she insisted.
His laughter was like a song that made her want to dance with all the joy it inspired.
“Is it a pot of tea?” she asked. That wouldn’t necessarily be a surprise. Even when he was busy over at the headquarters in a meeting, or out with a troop, one of Briggs Ryan’s maidens would unexpectedly bring a pot to the cabin, saying the major had requested it be delivered to her.
He made a point of showing her how tightly his lips were clasped together, teasingly illustrating he wasn’t about to tell her anything. She laughed, but her mind went back to kissing, and she pulled her gaze away. He didn’t kiss her. Hadn’t, not once. But there were so many times he acted as if he was going to that she was going mad. It didn’t even help to pull up images of Rosemary. Matter of fact, it was becoming difficult to think like her sister most times.
A twinge of guilt made Millie take a moment to silently chide herself. Seth Parker wasn’t her husband, and kissing him should never, ever enter her thoughts.
Telling herself that was like telling the sun not to shine. It was a good thing he was a gentleman. She liked that about him. His manners and honor, and overall charisma. Truth be told, there wasn’t much she didn’t like about him. Perhaps that was why there were all these thoughts about kissing. A person should want to kiss someone they liked—shouldn’t they? Another type of guilt spilled inside her. She’d never thought about kissing Martin like this. Had never even wondered about it. All these other things had never surfaced when he’d taken her arm or aided her in some way, either. Then again, she’d never thought of Martin as anything more than a friend.
The pressure in her lungs released slowly as she huffed out a long sigh. Millie didn’t know what she thought of Seth, as he seemed more than a friend. He was her husband, or at least her pretend husband. The stirring warmth in the depths of her body throbbed when she thought of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. Truth was, she loved being called the major’s wife.
Seth turned her way, and she almost gulped at the heat that flared.
“No, it’s not tea,” he said, “but I’m sure Briggs will have a pot brewing.”
“Steeping,” she corrected, attempting to reroute her thoughts.
He gave her a somewhat puzzled look. “Steeping?”
“Yes, one brews coffee, but steeps tea.”
His chuckle was accompanied by a head shake. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good, you do that.” He had her insides bubbling, but there was also a carefree feeling she’d never experienced. “Want to race to that rock?”
“You’ll be careful?” he asked.
“I always am.”
He stretched his long legs by standing in the stirrups for a moment as he took a look around the area. When he sat back down, he nodded. “All right, but just to the rock.”
Excitement zipped under her skin. “On the count of three?”
He nodded again.
“One,” she said, hunching down. Riding always lifted her spirits. It was the one thing she’d always done just for her, and she missed it so much. It had been years since she’d gone riding just for the pleasure of it. Watching Seth out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Two...”
Then, whipping the reins across the horse’s rump, she sent the animal into a full gallop before yelling, “Three!”
He was at her side in no time, and remained there, his horse neck and neck with hers the entire race. The wind, the air, the dirt churning beneath the animals’ hooves, it was all so wonderful she was sorry when they passed the rock. But true to her word, she reined the horse in and glanced to her side.
“You cheated,” Seth said, grinning.
A giggle tickled her throat. “I thought I’d need a head start.”
His laugh had her floating on a cloud, and she still felt that way a short time later, when he lifted her from the saddle as Russ appeared to lead the horses into the stable.
“Thank you, Corporal Kemper,” she said, while wrapping a hand around Seth’s proffered elbow. The simple action never failed to make her heart swell.
“You’re welcome, ma’am. Did you enjoy the ride?”
She smiled at the tall young man, but something tugging at her heart had her turning to Seth as she answered, “Yes, thank you very much.”
His smile was like the sun, with the ability to make amazing sensations grow inside her, as high and thick as morning glories on a trellis.
“This way,” he said, pivoting about.
“Our cabin is that way.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the little rooms that no longer smelled like roses. To-She-Wi had helped her scrub the place with water boiled with a minty-scented plant, while Seth had been gone that day and a half. That’s when things had changed between them. Ever since his return, he hadn’t questioned who she was. Instead he treated her with the utmost respect, and actually seemed to enjoy her company as much as she did his.
“I know,” he said, with a noteworthy twinkle in his eyes. “But your surprise is this way.”
Butterflies once again inhabited her insides, too strong to ignore even if she wanted to. “Ah, yes, my tea.”
Several steps later, as they walked toward the officers’ quarters, she asked, “Are we visiting the Ketchums?”
“No.”
He angled their path toward the last house on the left, the big one she’d learned was a storage building. A sad thing for sure. The inside of the Ketchums’ home was roomy, not at all like their tiny cabin, and she assumed this one must be, as well. Identical in size and shape, it was made of thick round rocks and mortar, like most of the rest of the fort, including sections of the tall wall.
During the past week, Seth had given her tours of every building on the property except this one. He’d said there might be mice in there, with all the boxes and crates. Hard to believe, with all the people scurrying in and out of it every day. The activity would surely scare away the varmints.
Perhaps that was her surprise—a tour of what was kept in the building. Not that it mattered. The ride he’d already taken her on had been a wonderful gesture, and just being with him had made the world seem brighter and her steps lighter. He was a busy man and she couldn’t expect him to keep her entertained when there was work to be done. Yet she didn’t have the wherewithal not to want him near whenever possible.
He escorted her up the short set of stairs, onto a porch where two high-back rocking chairs swayed in the wind. A day didn’t go by when the steady gusts weren’t stirring up dust, leaving no choice but to accept it. Therefore, in her mind, the breezes were no longer a bother.
The contemplative look on Seth’s face as he paused near the doorway made Millie’s stomach flip. “What?” The moment that followed had her brows twitching and pulling downward.
With a bow of his head, he opened the door. “After you.”
The smell of beeswax reminded her of the hours she’d spent coating the banister, floors and furniture back in Richmond. She’d never minded the work, for afterward the house had shone. Taking a step forward, she removed her hat to get a better look while glancing around. The house back in Richmond gleamed as brightly as this one did right now.
The left side boasted a large front parlor and the right held an arched doorway that led to a kitchen. Both rooms were fully furnished with pieces as finely crafted as those in her father’s home. A staircase straight ahead created a wall that led toward the back of the house, and the sun shining into the hallway proved there were more rooms with their doors open.
She spun all the way around. There wasn’t a box, crate or barrel anywhere to be seen. Her gaze stopped on Seth, who wore an endearing, secretive grin. A chill not of fear or apprehension, but of anticipation zipped up her arms.
He took her hat, and removing his, placed them both on a nearby table. When he turned, he held out his hands.
Curious and delighted, she laid her fingertips in his palms, and drew a breath at how tenderly his hands folded around hers.
“Welcome home,” he whispered.
She tilted her head, to make sure she’d heard what he said, and to quickly scan the area again. His touch created a unique craving inside her that had her pulse racing and blood pounding in her ears. “Home?”
“Yes, I decided it was time for the major to start living in the major’s house.”
“Oh.” A nervous quiver made her ask, “But what about the cabin? Who’ll live...?” She swallowed, stopping the question as she suddenly remembered they weren’t married and truly shouldn’t be living as such. A shower of sadness rained inside her.
“Russ will move back in there.”
“Oh,” she repeated, glancing to where her feet had glued themselves to the polished floor. Just this morning he’d compared the quiet nights they’d shared to the ones where Russ had filled the cabin with snores. “I guess I’ll get used to his snoring,” she mumbled.
Seth had wondered how this moment would go, and now that it was upon him, anticipation had his insides kicking like a lassoed pronghorn. He let loose one of her hands to lift her chin with his knuckle. The forlorn look in her eyes only heightened his excitement. His plan was working, almost too well. He found himself looking forward to spending every waking moment in her company, but he was still in control. Was always in control. “No, you won’t get used to Russ’s snoring,” he assured her, “because you’ll be living here. With me.”
Her little gasp was accompanied by another flash of those big doe eyes, and Seth couldn’t help but grin at the sight.
“Had you really thought I’d move in here without you?” he asked, keeping her chin up with his knuckle.
The flush that appeared on her cheeks sent a jolt through his system. The desire to kiss her, taste those sweet lips, feel the way they curved, had been building over the past few days to the point where he thought of little else. It was tough at times, remembering just who she was, or rather, who she wasn’t. He uncurled his finger, ran the tip of it along the graceful curve of her chin.
“This house,” he said, “is for the commander of the fort and his wife.”
A tiny smile pulled at the sides of her lips. He knew this wasn’t Rosemary, but playing along with the game the two sisters had concocted did have its rewards. No harm could come from a simple kiss. Seth slid his hand along the softness of her neck and held her head in place as he lowered his lips to hers, slowly, giving her time to step back if she chose. His entire body sighed with pleasure when his mouth met hers. Soft and precious, the touch was perfect, just as he’d known it would be.
A tiny gasp escaped her lips when he pulled his away, and a bashful smile covered her face. Oh, yes, soon she’d be telling him everything he wanted to know.
Folding his other arm around her, he eased her closer, and this time, when their mouths met, he explored every sweet inch of her lips.
Her hands were pressed against his chest, and the collar of his coat tugged downward as her fingers curled, clutching the material.
He kissed her again, and again, long and hard, short and sweet, delighting in the way her lips moved to meet his, until his lungs screamed for a full breath of air. It would be so easy to forget the past, focus on the future. A chill rippled over him at that contradiction. His past held no women, and his future wouldn’t, either, once he’d found out what she wanted. He needed to remember that. And that this was a game.
“Aw, Rosemary,” he whispered, purposely calling her that. Just as he expected, her entire body went as stiff as a rifle barrel.
She pushed on his chest and spun around before he could glimpse her expression. It didn’t matter. He knew this was Millie, and he needed to find out why she was here.
He caught her hand and tugged her back around. The fingers beneath his trembled, and her cheeks were red. When she attempted to step past him, he blocked her path. “Where are you going?”
“I—I...” She took a breath. “I must pack. My clothes. My trunks. They’re at the cabin.”
The rise and fall of her breasts as she gasped drew his eyes. The low neckline of the yellow-and-brown dress showed just enough skin to taunt his heightened senses. He fought to remind himself that this was all part of a plan. “Your trunks are already here,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
Stepping into the closest room, he stated, “This is the kitchen, obviously. It’s up to you if you want to prepare our meals, or continue to...”
By the time the tour ended in the last room upstairs, where her four trunks lined the walls, tension no longer snapped inside him and her easy conversation said the kisses downstairs hadn’t had any lasting side effects in her. They had in him. The pleasure of the connection had him wanting to do it over and over again. And then some. Which would be overplaying his hand, but he couldn’t seem to stop the visions when they started forming.
“I thought this was the storage house,” she said, running a hand over the quilt covering the bed.
“It was,” he admitted. “Until I ordered it cleaned and made ready.”
“When did you do that?”
She was shy and skittish. He had to remember to take it slow. “Several days ago.” Leaning against the door frame, he gestured about the room. “What do you think?”
She glanced at the windows, the walls, the furniture, and then quite nonchalantly, but grinning mischievously, said, “It’s certainly larger than the cabin. I suppose I could get used to it if I had to.”
He chuckled. Her mocking banter never failed to delight him. Hoping she sincerely was pleased, he asked, “So do you like your surprise?”
The way she smiled and kept her gaze locked with his as she walked toward him, led him to believe she did. Charm practically floated in the air around her, a magical essence no one at the fort was immune to. In a sense, Jasper had been right. She was what the place needed. In the short time she’d been here, there’d been changes. The men were showing up at mealtimes with their hair combed and their uniforms brushed, and they’d been watching their language. Their manners had improved, too, as had the overall mood of just about everyone. Seth couldn’t attribute it to anything but her.
“Well,” she said, ducking around him and heading down the hallway, “I was hoping for a cup of tea.”
It had been years since he’d laughed as much as he had over the past few days, and chuckling now, he snagged her arm. The desire to pull her against him and kiss her again was tempting, but he quelled it. Holding her in place, he pivoted and then walked down the hallway beside her.
“I’m sure Briggs stocked tea in the kitchen.”
A coy little smirk sat on her lips as she glanced his way. “You specifically requested it, didn’t you?”
His ears heated up, but he admitted, “Yes, I did.”
Her eyes dimmed and a flash of sadness crossed her face, but then her smile returned and she reached over to rub his hand. “Thank you.”
There were times when the sincerity of her appreciation had him questioning his deceit. Pretending not to know who she was. The more he got to know her, the more things he found to like. Seth hadn’t expected that. He’d seen how the general had doted on his daughters, and knew full well the man’s death had left them very wealthy women. Yet she acted as if no one had ever given her anything, had ever taken an interest in her or truly cared for her.
Something opened within him, as if someone had just pulled aside a shutter to reveal a window glowing with light. Caring for her, about her, was so easy, and gave him a pleasure he’d never quite experienced before. It was a little worrisome, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. Letting go of her elbow, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and brushed her hair with his lips. “You’re welcome.”
Millie wanted to close her eyes, but his comforting touch made the chance of tripping and tumbling down the stairs a real possibility. She chose instead to hold her breath and try not to focus on how he kissed her hair, or how his hand tightened on her upper arm, holding her close to his side. It was so wonderful, yet so painful that the tears behind her eyes grew hotter, sharper.
Being Rosemary had become agonizing. No, that wasn’t it. Not being Rosemary was what had become agonizing. His kiss had been all Millie had dreamed it would be and more, but unbearable pain had sliced through her the moment he’d whispered her sister’s name.
He’d been kissing Rosemary, not her. The lump that formed inside her was massive and sore, and try as she might, she couldn’t think beyond it.
“Hey,” he said. “You don’t seem very excited about your tea.”
She stopped next to him at the bottom of the stairs—had no choice, with his arm around her. And digging deeper than ever, she searched for the ability to pull up yet another smile. The past hour had been grueling, pretending nothing had happened, trying to be excited about the house—a beautiful home indeed—all the while knowing it was a sham. A farce.
No, she was the farce, and that wasn’t new. Her entire life had been a charade, at least as long as she could remember. She’d always had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. Had to pretend she wasn’t the reason her mother took her own life—that an innocent baby couldn’t be to blame. Yet inside, Millie knew it was true, and knew she was as selfish as Rosemary always claimed.
Maybe that’s what hurt so badly this time. All these years she’d wished for a way to prove otherwise, but Rosemary didn’t want to have anything to do with Seth. She didn’t want his attention—didn’t want him to kiss her. But Millie did, and here she was, focusing on that instead of the reason she was here. To save her sister’s life, and the baby’s.
A sob bubbled in her throat even as she tried to pull up an ounce of fortitude. The baby depended on her and she couldn’t forget that. She’d just have to stop thinking about other things, and make sure kissing Seth never happened again. No matter how badly she wanted it.
Resolve came—at least that’s what she told herself—but a smile couldn’t be found. So instead, she just shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ll never be able to steep a pot of tea as well as Mr. Ryan.”
The tenderness in Seth’s face stabbed her already breaking heart, and when he leaned forward, pressed his forehead against hers, an ache shrouded her entire body.
“Then,” he whispered, “I’ll go have Briggs steep you a pot and have it delivered.”
“Major.”
Millie didn’t turn at the sound of Russ’s voice. Tears were pressing too firmly against the backs of her eyes. Crying wouldn’t help, and it wouldn’t stop the urge to fall into Seth’s arms and tell him the truth. He’d be furious and hate her, and that would be worse than having him believe she was Rosemary.
“Yes, Corporal Kemper?” Seth answered, lifting his head.
“I’m sorry to intrude, sir,” Russ said. “But riders are coming in. It’s Per-Cum-Ske.”
Seth’s hands continued to tenderly rub Millie’s upper arms, and his affection had her insides twisting into knots.
“I’ll be right there,” he answered.
She kept her eyes closed for as long as possible, until one of his hands lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. The breath she was pulling in snagged in her throat at the solemn expression on his face. Concern set her heart throbbing. “Who is Per-Cum-Ske?”
His sober gaze went to the door behind her. “He’s the current leader of the Comanche.”
All her self-pity and sorrows vanished, while fear gripped her insides like a huge fist at the seriousness of his tone. She latched on to his shoulders, grasping the material of his jacket. “Seth—”
“There’s nothing to fear,” he said. “I’ve known Per-Cum-Ske for years.”
“Why then do I see worry in your eyes?” The question surprised her, for she hadn’t realized that was what she’d say. But his troubled look sent a chill clear to her toes.
He smiled, though it was as false as some of the ones she forced upon her own lips. She’d created so many, they were easy to spot. Yet this was the first one she’d seen him display.
“I,” he said, brushing her forehead with his lips, “am worried about your tea.” He took one of her hands, led her to the table by the door. “I’ll have Briggs send over a pot. You stay here. Acclimate yourself to your new home.”
Her mind insisted she didn’t need tea, but her voice refused to comply, so she simply nodded.
“Good girl,” he said, squeezing her hand before letting go. Then he put his hat on and walked out the door.
The tremors in her knees kept her legs from moving. It was several moments before the ability returned and she followed his footsteps. On the front porch, she grasped one of the porch pillars to hold her up. The Indians on horseback, the ones slowly riding toward Seth as he stood in the center of the courtyard, were not like the ones in Tulsa, nor the ones she’d encountered here at the fort. Dressed in animal skins, with feathers in their hair and on their horses, they rode through the wide gate with guns in their hands and scowls on their faces. These were the ones that lived in Indian Territory. The ones her father had spoken about behind closed doors.
Seth spoke to the man in front, the one with a large amount of feathers sticking out of the hat on his head. Though no words carried all the way to the house on the breeze, Millie could tell by his gestures that Seth was welcoming them to the fort. The Indian nodded while turning his head, scanning his surroundings, and when his gaze stopped on her, it was as if his eyes bore right into her skin, leaving it burning.
“Come, dear, we mustn’t stare at them.”
“Mrs. Ketchum...” Unaware that anyone had joined her, Millie found a touch of comfort in the older woman’s presence. She wanted to ask about the Indians, but the pull to turn back to the gathering in the courtyard was too strong.
Seth’s gaze was what held her attention, and though he was a distance away, she clearly understood his request. Still fearing for him, she comprehended he had a job to do, and so did she. Being a major’s wife included allowing him to complete his duties without interference. Her father had instilled in her years ago the importance of not interfering in army business.
“Come along, dear,” Mrs. Ketchum repeated.
Millie turned, and remembering her manners, waved a hand for the other woman to cross the threshold first.
“I know they’re frightening at first, dear, but your husband is an excellent commander. One of the best, and you have nothing to fear.” Ilene Ketchum closed the door. “Now, why don’t I take this opportunity to show you where everything is? I was so excited when I heard you and Seth were moving into the major’s house. I stocked the kitchen for the two of you myself.”
“You did?” Millie bit her tongue and quickly added, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Seth was adamant that you not learn about what we were doing. He said everything had to be in order the first time he showed it to you. He wanted it to be a surprise. It was, wasn’t it?”
The other’s woman’s features were angular and stern upon first glance, but Millie saw beyond that, especially after the meal she and Seth had shared with Jasper and Ilene upon her arrival. The woman’s kindness seemed to have no bounds, and Millie found herself looking up to her, wishing she could be more like her. Ilene had such confidence and poise, and Millie couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had been like that at one time.
“I was surprised,” she answered. “Still am.”
“Good.” The woman smiled brightly. “I’m glad. Now, as I said, I put the kitchen in order and I’ll show you where everything is. Jasper and I usually have our meals brought over by one of Mr. Ryan’s maidens, especially in the summer months. Even the smallest fire in the stove heats up the house and there really is no sense in wasting the wood. It’s so precious out here.”
They’d crossed the room, and stood near the long wall adorned with cupboards. Gesturing toward the back door with one hand, Ilene continued, “You’ll see the woodshed out by the facilities. All of the officers’ homes share it. I will caution you to watch for snakes.”
“Snakes?” Millie tried to keep the quiver out of her voice, but didn’t succeed.
“Don’t worry. They’re just bull snakes. They keep the mice population down and the rattlesnakes away. But they do like to hide in the woodpile, and have startled me a time or two.” Ilene gave a carefree giggle. “Now, this is where I put the dishes, plates and bowls. Cups are over here....”
The woman’s voice seemed to fade away. Mr. Cutter and Mr. Winston had warned of snakes while traveling, but Millie hadn’t thought of them inside the stockade walls. Of course, there were snakes in Virginia, but not in town. She’d never seen one in person and would be happy to keep it that way.
“Rosemary?”
A shiver had Millie glancing up, wondering how many times Ilene had called her by that name and she hadn’t answered.
“Someone is knocking on the door. Would you like me to answer it?”