unmasked, exposed. And utterly fascinated.
Turning her head, but unable to glance away from the intriguing soldier, she whispered to her uncle, "I'd love a cup of coffee. Do you mind if I meet the rest of the officers and their wives later?''
"Of course not, Nikki. You're here to enjoy yourself." Preparing to point out the refreshment table and give her her leave, Custer looked up and noticed his newest recruit studying them from across the barracks. "Actually, a cup of coffee would suit me, too. Besides, there's a fellow over by the table I think you should meet. You two may have a few things to discuss." Then he started toward Private Stoltz with his niece following along behind.
The first thing Dominique noticed when she was finally able to look away from the man's mesmerizing features was the glint of a knife blade turning over and over in his palm. As she and the general approached him, her expressive brown eyes widened with alarm as much as with anticipation.
"Private Stoltz," Custer said as he reached Jacob's side. "I've brought someone to meet you. But first," he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper, "please be so kind as to sheathe your knife. I understand you're new to the post and may not realize how skittish the ladies can be when weapons are displayed. You'll notice our larger arms are stowed under the tables. You're welcome to retain your knife, but please, keep it out of sight."
Tiny rivulets of perspiration gathered on Jacob's forehead and began a slow tattletale march down his brow. Was the Long Hair trying to disarm him so he could gain the advantage? Had the crazy one seen enough of his features to recognize him and alert the post commander to the deception? He glanced at the stunning woman, expecting to find an accusing finger pointing him out as an impostor, but her demeanor suggested curiosity rather than animosity. Could it be that his identity was still unknown? If it was, how long could he hope for it to remain so?
In spite of his reservations, Jacob took the sanest course and returned the knife to its leather holster. "I am sorry, sir. I did not think of the ladies."
"You will before this night's over," Custer promised with a chuckle. Turning to Dominique, he brought her forward. "This is Private Jacob Stoltz, Nikki. He's one of the soldiers who escaped from the Sioux yesterday. I thought you two might have a few things in common."
Again he laughed, then completed the introduction. "Jacob, this young lady is the daughter of my oldest sister Julia, who has since departed. Her name is Dominique DuBois. She lives with her father in Michigan."
Jacob's newfound manners deserted him. He struggled to hide a gasp of surprise, then cleared his throat and collected himself. "She is of your blood?"
Custer raised a brow and said, "An interesting way to put it—but, yes, Dominique is my niece."
Jacob quickly extended his hand, his fingers board-stiff, and dropped his voice to an unnaturally low tone. "A pleasure."
Dominique cocked her head as she acknowledged his greeting. Why did he seem so familiar? she wondered, the fine down on her arm rising with foreboding. Had they met somewhere before? Dominique made the mistake of looking up into those riveting blue eyes for the answer, and suddenly she felt naked all over again. Stripped as bare as a winter landscape. But this time she felt no chill. This time her flesh burned with the heat of an August sun.
The stranger accepted her outstretched hand, but instead of lifting it to his lips as the other soldiers had done, he began pumping it in an awkward greeting. Dominique recoiled, stunned as the sensations increased twofold. She knew that touch somehow, felt the warm tingles of another time course through her body and down to her toes. What was happening to her? Were the effects of the Sioux medicine still wreaking havoc on her mind? Or was it something else?
"Nikki?" Custer said, his brow rumpled. "Are you feeling all right?"
The general's
Turning her head, but unable to glance away from the intriguing soldier, she whispered to her uncle, "I'd love a cup of coffee. Do you mind if I meet the rest of the officers and their wives later?''
"Of course not, Nikki. You're here to enjoy yourself." Preparing to point out the refreshment table and give her her leave, Custer looked up and noticed his newest recruit studying them from across the barracks. "Actually, a cup of coffee would suit me, too. Besides, there's a fellow over by the table I think you should meet. You two may have a few things to discuss." Then he started toward Private Stoltz with his niece following along behind.
The first thing Dominique noticed when she was finally able to look away from the man's mesmerizing features was the glint of a knife blade turning over and over in his palm. As she and the general approached him, her expressive brown eyes widened with alarm as much as with anticipation.
"Private Stoltz," Custer said as he reached Jacob's side. "I've brought someone to meet you. But first," he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper, "please be so kind as to sheathe your knife. I understand you're new to the post and may not realize how skittish the ladies can be when weapons are displayed. You'll notice our larger arms are stowed under the tables. You're welcome to retain your knife, but please, keep it out of sight."
Tiny rivulets of perspiration gathered on Jacob's forehead and began a slow tattletale march down his brow. Was the Long Hair trying to disarm him so he could gain the advantage? Had the crazy one seen enough of his features to recognize him and alert the post commander to the deception? He glanced at the stunning woman, expecting to find an accusing finger pointing him out as an impostor, but her demeanor suggested curiosity rather than animosity. Could it be that his identity was still unknown? If it was, how long could he hope for it to remain so?
In spite of his reservations, Jacob took the sanest course and returned the knife to its leather holster. "I am sorry, sir. I did not think of the ladies."
"You will before this night's over," Custer promised with a chuckle. Turning to Dominique, he brought her forward. "This is Private Jacob Stoltz, Nikki. He's one of the soldiers who escaped from the Sioux yesterday. I thought you two might have a few things in common."
Again he laughed, then completed the introduction. "Jacob, this young lady is the daughter of my oldest sister Julia, who has since departed. Her name is Dominique DuBois. She lives with her father in Michigan."
Jacob's newfound manners deserted him. He struggled to hide a gasp of surprise, then cleared his throat and collected himself. "She is of your blood?"
Custer raised a brow and said, "An interesting way to put it—but, yes, Dominique is my niece."
Jacob quickly extended his hand, his fingers board-stiff, and dropped his voice to an unnaturally low tone. "A pleasure."
Dominique cocked her head as she acknowledged his greeting. Why did he seem so familiar? she wondered, the fine down on her arm rising with foreboding. Had they met somewhere before? Dominique made the mistake of looking up into those riveting blue eyes for the answer, and suddenly she felt naked all over again. Stripped as bare as a winter landscape. But this time she felt no chill. This time her flesh burned with the heat of an August sun.
The stranger accepted her outstretched hand, but instead of lifting it to his lips as the other soldiers had done, he began pumping it in an awkward greeting. Dominique recoiled, stunned as the sensations increased twofold. She knew that touch somehow, felt the warm tingles of another time course through her body and down to her toes. What was happening to her? Were the effects of the Sioux medicine still wreaking havoc on her mind? Or was it something else?
"Nikki?" Custer said, his brow rumpled. "Are you feeling all right?"
The general's
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