Oklahoma Bride. Carol Finch
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jerked back as if she had slapped him. “I have no intention of taking you to bed,” he declared.
“You didn’t put me under arrest in your room so you could take advantage of me?” Karissa smirked at him. “You really expect me to believe that? Just how stupid do I look?”
“You don’t look the least bit stupid. During our brawl in the creek, I discovered that you’re as wily as a fox. And I did expect you to believe that I was trying to show you a modicum of courtesy and consideration,” he snapped as he veered around her to gather fresh clothing from his trunk.
“I couldn’t very well put you in a stockade that is teeming with men. Therefore, I brought you here for your own protection. Though why I bothered, after that little performance, I’m sure I don’t know.” He did an abrupt about-face and glared at her. “I plan to bunk in Micah’s quarters for the night.”
Karissa’s jaw sagged in amazement. She had totally misinterpreted the commander’s intentions and she had come off looking like a trollop. Despite what he thought, she was the farthest thing from a woman who made her living on her back.
“I’m posting a guard outside the window and one outside the door,” he informed her briskly. “You’ll stay here until you promise me that you will not sneak back into the territory before the Run.”
“I promise,” she said swiftly. “May I leave now?”
Rafe halted beside her. A sardonic smile touched the corners of his sensuous mouth. “You might find this astonishing, but I don’t trust you.”
“I gave you my promise,” she sassed him. “That’s all you asked for.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him defiantly. “Some commander you are, General, if you change your mind every other minute.”
“Well, this decision stands,” he said with brusque finality. “You’ll be here indefinitely. It’s the only way to guarantee your safety and I can think of nothing worse than a woman so belligerent and contrary that she refuses to admit to her own vulnerability on the frontier. Furthermore, I want to be certain that you won’t break the law I’m sworn to uphold.”
Karissa scowled at him. “I’m finding that I like honorable men less than I like the dishonorable ones. It’s impossible to deal with men in general, General.”
“Stop calling me General and fasten your shirt,” he muttered at her. “Maybe when you start behaving like a lady I’ll reconsider.” He opened the door then shot her a stony stare. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to treat the injuries you inflicted on me. Sleep well, spitfire.”
“Karissa. My name is Karissa,” she said, striking a proud, dignified pose—just to prove to him she could be dignified if she felt like it. “Karissa Baxter from Kansas.”
“I will see that you have a supper tray delivered, Karissa from Kansas,” he replied in that aloof, authoritative tone that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. “Good night.”
When the door shut behind him, Karissa pulled a face. She definitely did not like that man. Too much spit and polish. Too much blue blood spurting through his veins. He obviously stuck to rules and regulations like flies stuck in molasses. If he had flown through life by the seat of his breeches, as she had, he would be considerably more sympathetic and understanding of her plight. But there was no sense wasting her breath, explaining her situation. Commander Rafe Hunter wouldn’t think of breaking his precious rules, much less bending one because of her.
Karissa flounced on the foot of the bed. If she gave a damn what that handsome soldier thought of her she would be depressed right now. But she didn’t have the time or inclination to wallow in unproductive emotions. She was on a crusade to insure her brother’s future in this new territory and she was spinning her wheels in house arrest.
She glanced speculatively toward the window and decided to make her escape after her supper had been delivered. She couldn’t plan her next move while her empty stomach was growling so loudly that she couldn’t think.
When a quiet rap rattled the door, Karissa pivoted and braced herself for another encounter with the fort commander. To her relief, Micah Whitfield poked his dark head around the door and smiled in greeting. His stunning blue eyes glistened with amusement as he directed her attention to the tray of food he carried in one hand.
“According to Rafe, a man can get his hand bitten off when he wanders too close to you. I brought supper so you will have something to chew on besides me.”
Karissa chuckled as Micah made a big production of cautiously circling around her to set the tray on the table. This brawny soldier, who was obviously of mixed heritage, had a knack of putting her at ease, even when she was conditioned to keeping up her guard around all men.
“You can relax, Captain,” she assured him as she walked over to pick up the slice of buttered bread. “I only bite and claw when physically attacked. You seem reasonably harmless.”
Micah laughed. “I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, but I have the reputation of being a hard-bitten, relentless scout and soldier.” He grinned teasingly and said, “Of course, thanks to you, Rafe is the one who’s hard-bitten.”
“Well, he tackled me and knocked me in the mud,” Karissa defended between bites. “What was I supposed to do? Thank him kindly for nearly drowning me and squishing me down in the slime?”
Micah ambled over to sit down in the chair—backward. He draped his muscled arms on the back of the chair and regarded her with blatant admiration. “Rafe might find you a bit unconventional, but I like your style. I always did admire a woman with pluck and gumption.”
Karissa sank down at the table to devour her meal. “And I’m cautious of men who are quick with compliments.” She eyed him with amused curiosity. “What do you want from me, Micah?” she said informally. “And do keep in mind that you won’t get it.”
He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “No small talk for you, I see. Just cut to the chase.” He nodded approvingly. “No wonder Rafe is having a hard time dealing with you. You’re nothing like the women he’s accustomed to.”
“The dainty and dignified types who bat their lashes and compliment his striking good looks and intelligence?” She sniffed in disgust.
“My sentiments exactly,” Micah agreed. “I’ve never trusted a woman who fawns and flatters. It means she wants something and that makes me suspicious. But then, I was raised in an Indian camp, not in the posh drawing rooms of the highest military echelon on the East Coast.”
“Like Rafe Hunter,” she presumed. “So what’s a man like him doing on this outpost of civilization? I suspect that he has the necessary connections to land a plum commission in someplace that’s safe, civilized and dignified.”
Micah shrugged. “He does and he could. Rafe graduated with high marks and honors from West Point. But he isn’t the type who is satisfied with taking the easy way out. We’ve faced hostile Apaches and Comanches together and he’s guarded my back while I guarded his. He likes the rigorous challenges of defending the country and protecting its honest citizens.”
A dyed-in-the-wool career army officer, Karissa mused. It was just her luck to be arrested by the gung-ho major.
“He’s damn good at his job,” Micah added. “He’s earned the respect of most of the soldiers under his command. Except for the lazy few who expend more effort trying to avoid work than carrying their share of the load. Rafe has a low tolerance for that type,” he added. “He never asks one of his men to do something he isn’t prepared to do himself. Despite his privileged background he isn’t afraid of hard work and he doesn’t shy away from trouble or tough decisions.”
“Enough on that dull topic,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “How long am I to be detained? I’m certain my brother and his wife are concerned about me. I would like to get word to them. Even better if I could reassure them in person.” She tossed Micah a meaningful