Read Online The Officer and the Southerner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 2) by Rose Gordon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rose Gordon
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inside of the barracks and to the stable. It wasn’t really his responsibility to see to the horses, but that of Stiles, a man under his command. From time to time though, Jack would come in while the boy was working to make sure everything was being done to his satisfaction.
“Morning, Private,” he called, spotting Stiles’ head just over the top of Rans’ back.
“ Morning, Lieutenant Walker,” the man greeted in kind. “I’m surprised to see you this morning.”
Jack pierced the younger man with his gaze. “And why is that?”
The boy shrugged. “You just got married last night. I assumed you’d be...” He shrugged again.
Jack crossed his arms. “You worry about yourself.”
“Yes, sir.” Private Stiles bobbed his head twice in understanding, his cheeks growing a light red.
Jack imagined his cheeks had reddened, too, but didn’t want to give this young man any reason to suspect anything was wrong. Whistling, he went over to walk up and down the aisle of horse stalls to see how well Stiles had been taking care of them. It wasn’t the most entertaining thing to do around the fort, but it would at least give him time to breathe and rethink things where Ella was concerned.
Unfortunately, nothing came to mind as he continued up and down the aisle to look in on each horse.
“ It looks good,” he said with a slight nod toward the boy after he made his second pass through the stables without seeing anything out of place or having a better idea of what he’d do differently with his wife.
Stiles said something else to him and Jack muttered something in response before checking his pocket watch. For as long as he might like to spend out here trying to puzzle out his complex bride, he couldn’t. He glanced at the time and snapped it closed. It had been twenty-five minutes. That should have given her plenty of time to get dressed, and if she wasn’t... Well, she’d had plenty of time, anything left uncovered would be his good fortune to glimpse. The randy thought he knew better than to have made him speed up his pace. Angrier than the devil or more solemn than the brook that trickled by his childhood home in West Virginia, he desired her. There was no arguing that.
Taking a minute to cool his ardor and regain his composure so not to stoke her ire again and have her create some other obstacle for him to get around, he took a deep breath, then grabbed the doorknob. He released it just as quickly. Though he’d like nothing more than to open the door and glimpse his bride in a state of undress meant only for her bridegroom, if he wanted to get himself back into her good graces, he’d do well to remember the manners his father had tried to beat into him and knock.
So he did.
No answer.
“Ella? Are you dressed?”
“ Go on without me,” a weak voice called.
Jack frowned. “I'm not going down there until you're ready. Now, hurry up, or I’m coming in there,” he said as calmly as he could.
“Just go!” she all but shouted.
His frown deepened. Not thirty minutes earlier, she was as quiet as a mouse and as docile as a kitten when she’d spoken to him. What could have possibly soured her mood so quickly? He clenched his fists and sighed. “Ella, is everything all right?”
“Yes. Just go away.” Her voice, which had sounded so sweet and gentle for most of yesterday, even when it was obvious she was vexed or irritated, was now full of annoyance. “Please?”
He shook his head. “Ella, do you need help?”
“No,” she said with just a little too much emotion.
Heedless to her state of undress or distress, Jack swung the door open and stood frozen in the threshold. “Ella, what’s wrong?”
She didn't answer, just leaned her pale face over the chamberpot she held in her trembling hands and gave a colossal heave. She wiped her mouth with a nearby cloth. “Nothing,” she said, not meeting his eyes or even looking in his direction.
His temporary paralysis ceased and he shut the door
“Morning, Private,” he called, spotting Stiles’ head just over the top of Rans’ back.
“ Morning, Lieutenant Walker,” the man greeted in kind. “I’m surprised to see you this morning.”
Jack pierced the younger man with his gaze. “And why is that?”
The boy shrugged. “You just got married last night. I assumed you’d be...” He shrugged again.
Jack crossed his arms. “You worry about yourself.”
“Yes, sir.” Private Stiles bobbed his head twice in understanding, his cheeks growing a light red.
Jack imagined his cheeks had reddened, too, but didn’t want to give this young man any reason to suspect anything was wrong. Whistling, he went over to walk up and down the aisle of horse stalls to see how well Stiles had been taking care of them. It wasn’t the most entertaining thing to do around the fort, but it would at least give him time to breathe and rethink things where Ella was concerned.
Unfortunately, nothing came to mind as he continued up and down the aisle to look in on each horse.
“ It looks good,” he said with a slight nod toward the boy after he made his second pass through the stables without seeing anything out of place or having a better idea of what he’d do differently with his wife.
Stiles said something else to him and Jack muttered something in response before checking his pocket watch. For as long as he might like to spend out here trying to puzzle out his complex bride, he couldn’t. He glanced at the time and snapped it closed. It had been twenty-five minutes. That should have given her plenty of time to get dressed, and if she wasn’t... Well, she’d had plenty of time, anything left uncovered would be his good fortune to glimpse. The randy thought he knew better than to have made him speed up his pace. Angrier than the devil or more solemn than the brook that trickled by his childhood home in West Virginia, he desired her. There was no arguing that.
Taking a minute to cool his ardor and regain his composure so not to stoke her ire again and have her create some other obstacle for him to get around, he took a deep breath, then grabbed the doorknob. He released it just as quickly. Though he’d like nothing more than to open the door and glimpse his bride in a state of undress meant only for her bridegroom, if he wanted to get himself back into her good graces, he’d do well to remember the manners his father had tried to beat into him and knock.
So he did.
No answer.
“Ella? Are you dressed?”
“ Go on without me,” a weak voice called.
Jack frowned. “I'm not going down there until you're ready. Now, hurry up, or I’m coming in there,” he said as calmly as he could.
“Just go!” she all but shouted.
His frown deepened. Not thirty minutes earlier, she was as quiet as a mouse and as docile as a kitten when she’d spoken to him. What could have possibly soured her mood so quickly? He clenched his fists and sighed. “Ella, is everything all right?”
“Yes. Just go away.” Her voice, which had sounded so sweet and gentle for most of yesterday, even when it was obvious she was vexed or irritated, was now full of annoyance. “Please?”
He shook his head. “Ella, do you need help?”
“No,” she said with just a little too much emotion.
Heedless to her state of undress or distress, Jack swung the door open and stood frozen in the threshold. “Ella, what’s wrong?”
She didn't answer, just leaned her pale face over the chamberpot she held in her trembling hands and gave a colossal heave. She wiped her mouth with a nearby cloth. “Nothing,” she said, not meeting his eyes or even looking in his direction.
His temporary paralysis ceased and he shut the door
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