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Seth turned from the window, walked to his desk and picked up the report Jasper had been reading, but it was just to give him something to do. “You know how I feel about soldiers being married.”
“Yes,” Jasper answered. “And you know how I feel about it.”
He did know how Jasper felt. Four years ago, when the man had been assigned to Fort Sill, Seth had refused to allow Ilene to accompany him out here. Neither the man nor his wife had accepted that command. It had made for some tense meetings, but, now, Seth had to admit, Ilene was as much a part of the fort as Jasper was.
Spinning so he leaned against the wall, Jasper folded his arms. “You’re one of the best commanders I’ve seen, Seth. Men not only respect you, they trust you. When are you going to learn to trust?”
“Trust who?” he retorted bitterly. “Her?”
Jasper shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m referring to life in general.”
Tension was eating at him, mainly because his second in command was much more than that. Over the years, Jasper, with his mellow ways that were the opposite of the urgency Seth often felt, had become the tutor he needed, often sought.
“You can’t hide it from me. I’ve noticed you struggling ever since that telegram arrived.”
Seth threw the report back on his desk. “Of course I’ve been struggling with it. I can’t imagine what she wants.”
“Then ask her.”
He let his glare show what he thought of that.
Jasper cracked a dry grin.
Seth ignored it.
“I know you only married her to appease her father. No one said no to the general. Ever. Including me. But—”
“Army men shouldn’t be married,” Seth interrupted.
“In your experience,” Jasper said. “I understand why you feel that way. Losing your father in battle, taking over his responsibilities for your family at such a young age... But it’s not always like that.”
“No?” Seth snapped. “I’ve seen it here, too. How battles take lives. Leave loved ones alone.” Perhaps he’d look upon things differently if his mother had been weaker. Amanda Parker-Wadsworth had cried over the loss of her husband—silently and behind her closed bedroom door. But in front of her children, she’d displayed strength and determination. Seth had seen through it, to the pain his mother harbored while comforting him and his siblings. To this day he lived on the tenacity her resolve had imbedded in him. Every day after school, he’d gone to work in the shipyards until dark, wanting to ease the burden that had fallen to his mother. Once old enough, he’d continued overseeing crews building ships, until his mother had ordered him to stop.
She’d always known his wish was to become a soldier, but considering he’d lost his father and two uncles at the Battle of Shiloh, Seth had given up on the dream. Not only for his mother’s sake—she’d lost her husband and two brothers on the same day—but for his, too. He needed to continue the shipbuilding business his father and uncles had started before the war, make sure his family was financially secure.
Even now, years later, he wondered if she’d truly wanted her sons to go to West Point, as she’d said, or if his mother had pushed him to because she’d known it was what he’d still wanted. It had been, and by then, money hadn’t been an issue. So he’d gone. Not just to make his mother happy. It had made him happy, too. By then he’d carried the weight of responsibility for his family and the shipbuilding crews for several years, and he’d found he liked commanding men. It came naturally to him. What he’d decided he didn’t want was the responsibility of having a wife and children. He loved his family, but the loss of their father had affected them all deeply.
“Yes,” Jasper said. “It’s here, too. There’s no avoiding death.”
Seth didn’t respond. Death was inevitable, but there was no reason to leave broken hearts and shattered homes when it happened. He saw it on the battlefields, but he shouldn’t have to see it in the faces of the wives and children left behind. It was too much.
“Someday, Seth, you’ll understand that living is as much a part of life as dying is.” Jasper crossed the room and left, closing the door softly.
A shiver settled deep in Seth’s spine, making his back stiffen. Living didn’t need to include a wife. Snatching up the report, he forced his mind to concentrate on it, as well as several other tasks that needed to be completed. So it wasn’t until the dinner bell echoed over the compound that he rose from his desk.
From the front steps of the headquarters building, where he was stretching muscles that had stayed idle too long, his gaze went to his cabin. The right thing would be to go get his wife, escort her to dinner. Then again, she had ears, and as he’d told Briggs, she might as well get used to fort living.
He was toiling with his decision when he entered the hall, almost feeling guilty. That instantly changed. She was here. Not sitting at a table set for two, but at a long bench, talking merrily with several men already seated around her.
A growl vibrated at the back of Seth’s throat. That definitely reminded him of Rosemary. As did the way she turned and lifted her brows at the sight of him.
Men moved, gesturing for him to take their seats, and Seth, accustomed to making snap decisions, faltered. He couldn’t ignore her in front of all his men, yet he couldn’t pretend they were happily married.
Or could he? That might prove to be the one thing that would irritate Rosemary—or Millie, or whoever she was. After five years, an amorous husband would be the last thing she’d expect, and perhaps the one thing that would send her on her way.
It was a twist he hadn’t thought would thrill him, but it did, and he almost cracked a grin as he walked across the hall. “Hello,” he murmured, gently placing a hand between her shoulder blades, where he felt the tiniest quiver beneath his palm.
Shock shimmered in her eyes as she answered, “Hello.”
“I trust you had a nice afternoon,” he said, taking a seat and scooting a bit closer to her side than necessary.
“Y-yes, thank you,” she stammered.
The twitching of her lower lip did make him want to smile. Oh, yes, this might be the perfect plan of attack. He should have thought of it earlier. Not doing what his enemies expected had kept him alive for years.
When Briggs opened the food line, Seth escorted her through it, with his hand riding low on the small of her back. He noted how her feet kept stumbling, and her nervousness had triumph rising inside him. They ate with the men at the long table, and Seth encouraged her to answer the slew of questions the soldiers posed. Many of them hadn’t been outside Indian Territory for years, and they were hungry to hear what was happening in other parts of the country.
The attention was more than she’d bargained for—her trembling fingers said that. And the edgy glances she sent his way told him she hadn’t expected him to be so accommodating.
Seth simply smiled, and asked a few nonessential questions of his own. When the meal was over, he took her hand and folded her arm through the crook of his while leading her to the door.
Things were slow at the fort right now. The cattle drives were over for the year and most of the crops harvested. That had bothered him this morning, knowing he wouldn’t have other duties consuming his time, but now he realized it was a good thing. Dedicating a few days to a plan that would ultimately hasten her departure was exactly what he needed.
The way he’d linked her wrist around his elbow had her breast brushing the upper part of his arm, and she was straining to keep the simple contact from happening. Telling himself it wasn’t affecting him, Seth asked, “Would you like to take a stroll through the compound?”
Her gaze bounced to the cabin and she pinched her lips together, which made him suddenly want to see what all the commotion had been about. “But you must be tired,” he said. “It’s been a long day. Let’s just go home.”
“No,” she said nervously. “We could take a stroll.”
“It’s all right, you’ll have lots of time to explore the fort,” he cajoled. “Right now, you need some sleep.”
“No, really—”
“I insist.” Seth let go of the hand he’d kept hooked on his elbow, and looped his arm around her shoulders. “You must be exhausted.”
She let out a sigh that held a tiny groan, but didn’t struggle as he guided her forward.
The sun hadn’t set yet and the warmth intensified Seth’s sense of smell. They were across the compound from Ilene’s flower beds, but he caught the scent of flowers. Or maybe it was perfume, because it smelled more like roses. Actually, he’d noticed a hint of it when he’d sat down next to her back in the hall.
A shiver rippled his spine as he turned his head, glanced down at the woman standing next to him. Her grin was much more of a grimace as she stepped aside for him to open the door to their cabin.
The warm, closed-in air rushing through the open doorway was downright overpowering. Blinking from the sting in his eyes, Seth asked, “Did a vial of rosewater burst in one of your trunks?”
“No,” she said, stepping past him to enter the cabin. “I washed the floors with it.”
“Washed the floors with it?”
Millie drew a deep breath, almost choking. The rose oil Lola made was quite potent and she may have used more than necessary. But it was what Rosemary would have done. “I also had To-She-Wi and Ku-Ma-Quai help me wash the walls.” She flinched slightly, not wanting to get two of Briggs Ryan’s maidens in trouble. The Indian women had proved to be not only friendly, but most helpful in assisting her with transforming the cabin.
“Wash the walls!” he exclaimed. “That oil will soak into the wood. It’s going to smell like this forever.”
“One can only hope,” she replied, sounding so much like her sister she wanted to bite her tongue. “It smelled of sour men before.”
The tick that appeared in his cheek should alarm her, but from what she’d learned today, Seth was not unfair. Though she might have decorated things a little more than she should have. It had been fun at the time, thinking she was getting him back for frightening her.
“My eyes are watering,” he said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“What’s this?” He gestured toward the table.
“I know you’ve seen a tablecloth before.”
“Not in an army barrack.”
Making her best attempt at being nonchalant, she shrugged.
“And pillows, and cushions, and rugs.” He was walking through the tiny area, pointing things out, and stopped in the doorway to his office. “Curtains? Curtains in my office? Where did you get all this stuff?”
“Mr. Fallon. You must be quite proud of him. He has a bit of everything.”
Seth gave her a glimpse full of disdain before he spun to take a second look at the space that had been his office. Once again Millie flinched inwardly. She’d never done anything like this before, and pulling up the courage to finish what she started was not easy.
“Where. Is. My. Desk?”
His cold tone had Millie gulping, but she managed to find the nerve to step into the room and point toward the far corner. With the desk up against the wall, covered with a tablecloth, and the chair positioned in front of the window, decorated with two tiny pillows, plus a rug covering the floor, the room looked much bigger and more homey. To her. What Seth thought was probably a bit different. Obviously was.
He glared at her with those piercing eyes for several long moments. “You are Rosemary, aren’t you?”
She held her breath, hoping the churning in her stomach wouldn’t erupt.
“Put it back,” he growled. “Put it back the way you found it. All of it.”
Millie scurried aside as he left the room.
“And get rid of those stupid curtains!”
The door thudded shut and Millie let out her breath in a gush. Rosemary wouldn’t put any of it back. So Millie wouldn’t, either.
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