Read Online Ambush by Luke; Short - Free Book Online

had let another man kiss her, had even enjoyed it, and yet had turned on her husband like a trollop when he suspected her of it. The whole affair was sordid, shabby, and cheap, and it was her fault.
    And then another memory, unwanted and hateful, came to her—remembrance of the reason for Tom’s return. Drunk as he was, he had returned to give her the money for the dress, while she was in the arms of another man. Her feeling of guilt was almost intolerable then, and she crossed over to the bed and sat woodenly on its edge. Maybe this could have been the day that changed their lives; maybe Tom, showing by his present that he loved her, would have drawn some deep strength from her appreciation of his gift. Seeing her happy and content and uncomplaining, he might have rejected the old life and strived toward a new one. But that’s gone too, now .
    She sat there motionless, appalled by the guilt that was hers.
    The dinner at the officers’ mess held both in honor of Captain Harcourt, the paymaster, and in celebration of what his Daugherty wagon had brought in its ironbound chest, had subsided a little. Ward stepped out onto the veranda and found Doctor Horton and Lieutenant Storrow there. Horton, a fat, graying, and cheerful man, grunted at sight of Ward. “Another man who’ll take his smoke at first hand, and not breathe it out of a room.”
    â€œIt’s thick, all right,” Ward said.
    â€œIt’s not cigar smoke, it’s what this heat does to a whiskey-drinking man,” Storrow complained. “I’ve got roll call tonight, Lord help me. Suppose if I took my own count and divided it by three, I’d come out right?”
    Ward smiled, looking off across the dark parade. There were lamps ablaze in the barracks opposite, and a trio of troopers drifted off toward the stables. There had been too much whiskey and too much wine tonight, and he needed to clear his head. Since it was some minutes until tattoo, the signal for departure of the escort to Craig, he stepped out onto the gravel walk and turned for a slow circle of the parade ground. Through his boot soles, he could feel the fading ground heat of the day. From the sutler’s post far away, the sustained racket that proclaimed the enlisted men’s celebrations came to him.
    He wheeled at the lower corner of the parade and pulled abreast the veranda of the commanding officer’s quarters. A handkerchief-sized lawn, smelling of watered grass, set it off from the other adobe buildings. Glancing at the veranda, Ward saw a woman seated there, and only belatedly realized that it must be Ann Dunnifon. His hand was rising to touch his hat, when he remembered he was hatless.
    She had seen him, however, and said a pleasant “Good evening, Mr. Kinsman.”
    Ward halted and said, “It is good, isn’t it?”
    â€œI’m at the old game of counting stars,” Ann Dunnifon said. “What comes after a trillion?”
    â€œFifteen, I believe,” Ward said gravely, and heard her low laugh. He turned into the walk and came up the steps and seated himself on the top one. Ann Dunnifon sat in a rocker, her legs crossed; now she uncrossed them and smoothed her skirt, and said quietly, “It sounded as if Captain Harcourt brought some new stories with him. Funny ones.”
    â€œHe did, and all unrepeatable,” Ward answered. He was silent a moment. “I should think a paymaster’s lot would be a hard one. On his digestion, I mean.”
    Ann laughed. “It’s a convivial time.”
    â€œIt was. And he’s riding out tonight.”
    â€œAnd you with him, I hear.”
    Ward nodded and glanced curiously over at her. She was watching him, but it was too dark to see the expression in her face.
    She sensed what he was thinking and said, “Oh, I’m not going to beg.”
    â€œI didn’t judge you would.” Ward was quiet a moment. “I would like to have you look at it