Read Online All or Nothing by Ashley Elizabeth Ludwig - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ashley Elizabeth Ludwig
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Shepherd!”
Bowen held up his hands in defense of whatever objection she was preparing. “You fell sound asleep while we were seeing to the horses. It didn’t seem right to drag you across the compound in such a storm, so I left you here with a guard at the door in case you woke up. Before you ask, no, it wasn’t me.”
“Well, then...”
RuthAnne stood, bedding straw clinging to her hair and skirt, and she realized her white blouse was still fairly transparent with dampness. She blushed to the roots of her hair but stood proudly before him. Toe to toe, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. He freed a strand of straw from her hair, barely hiding a smile.
Her eyes locked on his. Angry, she attempted to figure out some reason he had for making a fool of her.
Reggie ducked through the door. He tipped his hat to RuthAnne as if she were a fine lady and not standing in a grubby tack room with muddy skirts and wild hair. “We got a problem here, Captain?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with. Get to it, Private.”
RuthAnne smiled weakly after Reggie who exited to set about his tasks in the yard. She gathered her wits about her.
“I’ve had quite enough of your hospitality, Captain. I think I’ll find my own way to town after all, thank you.”
She pushed her way toward the door, but he simply placed his hands on her shoulders, an immovable force.
“Why not let me and Reggie rustle you up breakfast? That is, unless you want to go marching those seventeen miles back to civilization on an empty stomach. We’ll just be outside and head to the mess when you’re ready.” With a nod, he slipped outside.
Left alone in the tack room, RuthAnne realized she had no other option. Trapped! She stomped her foot and clasped her hands together, reaching for the peace that seemed to evade her every time she came within fifty feet of that man. With an exasperated breath, she followed the men outside and around the corner toward the camp kitchen with Reggie leading the way.
Heavenly aromas of baking bread and succulent roasting beef filled the morning air. The canteen, as Reggie referred to it, was a large, open space filled with long tables and benches; the soldiers shoveled in their hearty breakfast of beef, gravy, potatoes, biscuits, and butter. The welcome scent of real food cooking made her stomach realize what it missed. How long had it been since she had eaten?
Reggie led her around the back of the adobe building, to a canvas tent addition filled with women. There were ten of them, and about twice as many children running around, chasing chickens, each other, or hanging on their mothers’ skirts. A few babies were squalling. The women looked up and said easy good mornings to Private First Class Thompson.
“You see, Mrs. Newcomb, it’s only on the rare occasion any more that I get to go out with Captain Shepherd,” he said as he guided her to an empty spot at the long, rugged, wooden table and bench seat. “I lost a bit of rank after an argument with the good commander’s son, Marcus Carington. Seems we didn’t see eye to eye, so I blackened his and he did mine. At any rate, I am relegated to commissary duty for our fort laundresses. Word is he ’ s gotten himself promoted. Don’t that beat all.” He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Time to go to work.”
Reggie cleared his throat and after a moment of fanfare, all eyes turned to him, and he spoke. “Good laundresses of Fort Lowell. This here’s Mrs. RuthAnne Newcomb. She’s from back east and has the good fortune to be here with us for a spell. She had a bad turn—”
“Recently lost her husband,” Bowen interrupted. All whispering ceased. Even the children stopped playing to pay him attention.
He was an impressive sight, all buttoned with brass and crisply outfitted in his dark blue uniform. RuthAnne considered him a fine specimen of man, and quite clearly, so did the rest of the women in the room. His tall black boots shone with polish,
Bowen held up his hands in defense of whatever objection she was preparing. “You fell sound asleep while we were seeing to the horses. It didn’t seem right to drag you across the compound in such a storm, so I left you here with a guard at the door in case you woke up. Before you ask, no, it wasn’t me.”
“Well, then...”
RuthAnne stood, bedding straw clinging to her hair and skirt, and she realized her white blouse was still fairly transparent with dampness. She blushed to the roots of her hair but stood proudly before him. Toe to toe, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. He freed a strand of straw from her hair, barely hiding a smile.
Her eyes locked on his. Angry, she attempted to figure out some reason he had for making a fool of her.
Reggie ducked through the door. He tipped his hat to RuthAnne as if she were a fine lady and not standing in a grubby tack room with muddy skirts and wild hair. “We got a problem here, Captain?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with. Get to it, Private.”
RuthAnne smiled weakly after Reggie who exited to set about his tasks in the yard. She gathered her wits about her.
“I’ve had quite enough of your hospitality, Captain. I think I’ll find my own way to town after all, thank you.”
She pushed her way toward the door, but he simply placed his hands on her shoulders, an immovable force.
“Why not let me and Reggie rustle you up breakfast? That is, unless you want to go marching those seventeen miles back to civilization on an empty stomach. We’ll just be outside and head to the mess when you’re ready.” With a nod, he slipped outside.
Left alone in the tack room, RuthAnne realized she had no other option. Trapped! She stomped her foot and clasped her hands together, reaching for the peace that seemed to evade her every time she came within fifty feet of that man. With an exasperated breath, she followed the men outside and around the corner toward the camp kitchen with Reggie leading the way.
Heavenly aromas of baking bread and succulent roasting beef filled the morning air. The canteen, as Reggie referred to it, was a large, open space filled with long tables and benches; the soldiers shoveled in their hearty breakfast of beef, gravy, potatoes, biscuits, and butter. The welcome scent of real food cooking made her stomach realize what it missed. How long had it been since she had eaten?
Reggie led her around the back of the adobe building, to a canvas tent addition filled with women. There were ten of them, and about twice as many children running around, chasing chickens, each other, or hanging on their mothers’ skirts. A few babies were squalling. The women looked up and said easy good mornings to Private First Class Thompson.
“You see, Mrs. Newcomb, it’s only on the rare occasion any more that I get to go out with Captain Shepherd,” he said as he guided her to an empty spot at the long, rugged, wooden table and bench seat. “I lost a bit of rank after an argument with the good commander’s son, Marcus Carington. Seems we didn’t see eye to eye, so I blackened his and he did mine. At any rate, I am relegated to commissary duty for our fort laundresses. Word is he ’ s gotten himself promoted. Don’t that beat all.” He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Time to go to work.”
Reggie cleared his throat and after a moment of fanfare, all eyes turned to him, and he spoke. “Good laundresses of Fort Lowell. This here’s Mrs. RuthAnne Newcomb. She’s from back east and has the good fortune to be here with us for a spell. She had a bad turn—”
“Recently lost her husband,” Bowen interrupted. All whispering ceased. Even the children stopped playing to pay him attention.
He was an impressive sight, all buttoned with brass and crisply outfitted in his dark blue uniform. RuthAnne considered him a fine specimen of man, and quite clearly, so did the rest of the women in the room. His tall black boots shone with polish,
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