Oklahoma Bride. Carol Finch
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Although he hadn’t expected his men to avoid Karissa like the plague, he was surprised to see so many of them clustered around her in the mess hall.
Rafe felt left out and deprived when Karissa voiced some witty comment that caused an eruption of laugher among his men. He refused to approach Karissa, even if he felt drawn to the sight of that curly red head in the center of the circle.
When some of the men noticed his presence, they bowed politely to Karissa then went to take their places in the mess line. When Karissa pivoted toward him, awareness slammed into him. Rafe tried very hard not to stare in masculine appreciation as she sauntered toward him, smiling impishly.
“Did you catch a few dozen Sooners today?” she asked as she veered around the table to take her seat.
“Only a short dozen,” he reported. Reflexively, he pulled out the chair for her then sank down beside her. “Did you scrub your fingers to the bone while I was gone?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Considering the long days I was accustomed to working before venturing south from Kansas, this was a snap.” She grinned playfully at him. “I decided to add starch to the military drawers that I washed and dried. I think some of them were yours. At least I can only hope.”
Rafe tried not to return her smile, but it was contagious. “I wondered how you would retaliate. Leave it to you to be inventive.”
“I do what I can so that you know I’m not taking my captivity sitting down.” Her eyes sparkled with deviltry. “I wonder how easy it will be for you to sit down in those stiff drawers. But they should suit you perfectly.”
He presumed she was referring to his personality, but it wasn’t the only thing about him that was stiff at the moment. Rafe sighed. He really should release her, if only to avoid the frustrating attraction he didn’t want to deal with and could do nothing about.
“On a more serious note—” Karissa clamped her mouth shut when one of the soldiers reached around her shoulder to place a plate of food on the table.
“You were saying?” Rafe prompted Karissa after the private moved on to serve the officers.
“How was your day?” Micah interjected as he took the empty seat beside Karissa.
Disgusted, Rafe watched her turn a beaming smile on Micah. “I’m sure my day wasn’t as eventful as yours. I spent most of my time staring at the inside of a washtub and doing battle against dirty floors. The General tells me that you apprehended more squatters.”
Micah nodded his thanks when the private served his meal. “I swear they’re multiplying overnight.” When Karissa frowned glumly, he hastily added, “But not to fret, pretty lady. Rafe circled back to chase down the Sooners who infiltrated the property you picked out.”
Karissa turned her astonished gaze on Rafe, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You did? And here I thought you didn’t have a single saving grace. My apologies, General. I’m grateful for that, at least. Of course, other squatters are probably making camp on my prospective homestead as we speak.”
“That’s why we patrol the area continuously,” Rafe replied between bites of his meal. “I want this Land Run to be fair for all.”
“Being a woman, I’ll start the race with a distinct disadvantage,” she grumbled.
“I doubt it,” Rafe said. “I have yet to see you at a disadvantage, distinct or otherwise.”
Karissa wasn’t allowed the opportunity to request another guard for the following day. She glanced up to see one of the soldiers, who had introduced himself earlier, standing directly in front of her. He, like many of the men she had met, had been exceptionally respectful and polite to her. It seemed to her that the soldiers were pleased to be in the presence of a single woman and she hadn’t felt threatened by any of them. Except, of course, for Corporal Billings.
“I was hoping you might find time to sew new buttons on my dress uniform.” The soldier offered her the neatly folded garment then placed a coin on the table. “I’ll be back to fetch them in a few days.”
The soldier stepped aside and Karissa was greeted by another one, and then another. The stack of coins on the table increased as the men pointed out torn shoulder seams, frayed hems on trousers and holes in their shirts.
Well, one good thing about this, she decided, was that she would earn more money and she’d have something to relieve the boredom of sitting alone in her room all evening.
Karissa excused herself from the table and scooped up the tall stack of garments. Rafe came to his feet beside her.
“I’ll walk you back to officers’ quarters,” he volunteered.
Karissa was so aware of his presence beside her that she forgot to ask for a change of guard. It was all she could do to concentrate on keeping the riot of butterflies in her stomach from bursting loose. Damnation, why she allowed this man to affect her was beyond comprehension. She had no trouble dealing with the other soldiers.
“I thought perhaps I could accompany you on a walk around the garrison after I file my daily reports,” Rafe said.
“I’m allowed another breath of fresh air before I bed down for the night?” she asked, striving for a flippant tone of voice that would disguise her nervous flutters.
Rafe halted in front of his private quarters and lifted a dark brow. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“A walk around the post will suit me fine,” she replied. What better way to acquaint herself with the layout of the fort after dark? When she made her getaway—and it was only a matter of time before she did—she needed to know the best place to go over the wall.
He bowed ever so slightly then opened the door. “I trust you will be anxiously awaiting my return then?”
“Oh, absolutely, General,” she said breezily. “I think I would even offer to polish your boots if it would get me out of solitary confinement.” She knelt down to brush her finger over the toe of his boot. “Good heavens! Is that a speck of dust? Isn’t that against regulations? You could go on report!”
“Very funny,” he muttered. “Try not to climb the walls before I get back. It would be a pity if you fell and broke your neck.”
Karissa arched a brow. “Do I detect a warped sense of humor? Send it over to the washroom and I’ll have it starched and pressed in no time at all.”
When she turned toward the room, his muscled arm shot out to block her path. “I’m not the stuffed shirt you think I am,” he murmured as he leaned toward her.
His face was so close to hers that breathing was next to impossible. Her traitorous gaze focused on the sensuous curve of his mouth and her heart commenced pounding so hard that she swore it was about to beat her to death. He was so large and powerful that she felt dwarfed by his massive presence.
Ordinarily, Karissa balked and rebelled when she felt intimidated by a man. Yet, the feelings Rafe aroused inside her went beyond the norm. This ill-fated and unprecedented attraction made her feel more vulnerable than she ever had before. This was worse than physical vulnerability; it was emotional suicide. A woman who lived by her wits couldn’t afford to permit emotions to influence her ability to reason.
Desperate to put some distance between them, she ducked under his arm and darted into the room. She stood there, clutching the garments to her chest, as if the uniforms could protect her from these sensations that rippled through her body.
He stared at her for a long moment and she stared back at him. Then, without another word, he closed and locked the door. Karissa half collapsed on the end of the bed and dragged in a shaky breath. The man had an incredibly potent effect on her. She’d tried to alienate him, to irritate him, but she could still feel sparks flying when they were alone.
Flustered and desperate, Karissa snatched up her clean breeches, jacket and shirt. It would be better if she was garbed in men’s clothes on her walk with Rafe.