guide her up the steps.
"Miss. Stuart, our most sincere condolences on the loss of your uncle,
but may I say that we are heartily glad that you have survived to be
here today," "Thank you," Tess said. It was strange. It already seemed
like the whole thing had happened in the distant past. Days on the
plains could do that, she decided. And yet, when the colonel spoke so
solicitously of Uncle Joe, all the pain and the loneliness rushed back.
She tried to swallow them down. She needed to impress this man with
intelligence and determination, not a fit of tears. She didn't want to
be patted on the back. She wanted to be believed.
"Miss. Stuart, if you would be so good as to join us inside, the colonel
would like to speak with you," Slater said.
There was a startling light in his eyes as they touched her. Not
amusement, but something else. Almost a challenge. He wanted to see if
she would back down, she thought. Well, she wouldn't.
She walked past both men and into a large office with file cabinets and
a massive desk and a multitude of crude wooden chairs. Slater pulled out
a chair for her, and she sat down as regally as she could manage,
pulling off her rough leather gloves and letting them fall into her lap.
She felt Slater's eyes, and she looked up then looked quickly away.
He had seen the blisters and calluses on her hands. The colonel took his
seat behind the desk. He was an elderly man, whose gentle blue eyes
seemed to belie his position as a commander of such a post. His voice,
too, was gentle. Tess thought he was genuinely grateful to see her
alive, even if he had never met her before.
"Would you like coffee, Miss. Stuart? I'm afraid I've no tea to offer
you" -- "Coffee will be just fine, thank you," Tess said.
She hadn't realized that there was another man in the room unt'd a
s'dent young corporal stepped forward to bring her a tin mug of black
coffee. She thanked him and an awkward moment followed. Then the colonel
sat forward, folding his hands on the desk.
"Miss. Stuart, Lieutenant Slater informs me that you have claimed that
it was not Indians who set upon your band."
"That's right, sir."
"Then who?"
"White men. Hired guns for a man named yon Heusen. He is trying to take
my uncle's property and" -- "He'd have men attack a whole wagon train to
obtain your uncle's property? Think now, Miss. Stuart, is that logical?"
She gritted her teeth. Slater was watching her politely. She wanted to
kick him.
"It wasn't a large wagon train, Colonel.
We've had good relations with the Comanche in our area, and my uncle
wasn't afraid of the Comanche! We were traveling with a very small
party, a few hired hands, my uncle-"
" Maybe, Miss. Stuart, the Indians weren't Comanche.
Maybe they were a stray band of Apache looking for easy prey, or
Shoshone down from the mountains, or maybe even an offshoot of the
Sioux"--" No Indian attacked that wagon train."
Tess swung around. Jon Red Feather had come into the room. He helped
himself to coffee, then pulled up the chair beside Slater. He grinned at
his friend, then addressed the colonel.
"I'm sure that Miss. Stuart does know a Comanche when she sees one, sir.
And it wasn't Apache. Apache usually only scalp Mexicans--in
retaliation." He turned and smiled at Tess.
"And I can promise you that what was done was not done by the Sioux. A
Sioux would never have left Miss. Stuart behind."
A shiver ran down Tess's spine. She didn't know if Jon meant that the
Sioux would have taken her with them--or that they would have been sure
to kill and scalp her, too. The colonel lifted his hands. Even with Jori
corroborating her story, he didn't seem to believe her. Or if he did
believe her, he had no intention of helping her.
"Miss. Stuart, I have heard of this von Heusen. He has big money, and
big connections, and I understand he owns half the town" -- "Literally,
Colonel.
He owns the judge and the sheriff and the deputies."
"Now, Miss. Stuart, those are frightful charges" -- "They are true
charges."
"But don't you see, Miss. Stuart, you'd have to go into a court of law
against this man. And you'd have to charge him in Wiltshire, and like
you said ..." His voice trailed away. "Why don't you think of heading
back east, Miss. Stuart?"
She was up on her feet instantly.
"Head back east? I have never been east, Colonel. I was born here in
Texas.
My grandparents helped found Wiltshire. And the little bit of town that
yon Heusen doesn't own yeti still do. I have no intention of turning it
over to him! Colonel, there's nothing else that I can tell you. I have
had a rather trying few days. If there's some place where I might rest,
I'll be most grateful to accept your hospitality for a night or two.
Then, sir, I have to get home. I have a ranch and a paper that need my
expertise."
The colonel was on his feet, too, and she sensed that, behind her, Jon
and Slater had also risen. She spun around, feeling Slater's eyes,
certain that he was laughing at her again.
But he wasn't laughing. His eyes were upon her, smoky and gray and
enigmatic. She sensed that she had finally gained a certain admiration
from him. What good it could do her, she didn't know. The colonel had
been her last hope.
Now the battle was hers, and hers alone.
"Miss. Stuart, I'd like to help you if I could"
"Nonsense, Colonel. You don't believe a word I'm saying," Tess told him
sweetly.
"That's your prerogative, sir. I am very fatigued ..."
"Miss. Stuart can take the old Casey place while she's here," Jori said.
"Doily Simmons is there now, with linens and towels."
"I shall be most grateful to the Caseys," Tess said. "No need," Slater
drawled.
"Casey is dead. Caught a Comanche arrow last year. His wife went on hack
east." He was taunting her, and she smiled despite it.
"I have told you all, Lieutenant, I've never been east" -- "Oh, not that
east, Miss. Stuart. Mrs. Casey and the kids went to live in Houston,
that's all."
"Well, I rather like the area I live in," she said sweetly, then she
turned to the colonel.
"If I may, sir ... 7"
"Of course, of course! Jamie, you and Jon will please escort the young
lady to her quarters. And Mis~ Stuart, if it's Wiltshire you're
insisting on reaching, I'll arrange you an escort just as soon as
possible."
"Thank you."
Jon opened the door. Tess sailed through it. Slater followed her.
"It's this way, Tess," Jon told her. He'd never used her first name
before, and certainly not as he did now, intimately, as if they were old
friends.
There was a bright light to his striking green eyes, and she realized
that it was for the benefit of Jamie Slater. Jamie. Silently, she rolled
the name on her tongue.
"Lieutenant" seemed to fit him better.
Not always . Not that day he had looked down at her on the rocks after
shooting the snake. His hair had been ruffled, his shirt had fallen
open, and she had wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel the vital
movement of his flesh, so bronze beneath the setting sun. Then, then the
name Jamie might have fit him just fight. It was an intimate name, ,a
name for friends, or for lovers.
He was behind her still. Jon Red Feather was pointing things out to her.
"That's a general store, and there's our one and only alehouse, we don't
dare call it a saloon. And down there is the coffeehouse for the ladies.
We've a number of women at the fort here. The colonel approves of the
married men having their wives with them, and since the fort is strong