Chieftain (Historical Romance) by Nan Ryan Page B

leapt onto the bed and made himself comfortable, placing his head on her stomach. Maggie laughed and affectionately rubbed him behind his left ear. Pistol growled his pleasure. “Okay, boy,” she soon said. “Get down now and I’ll let you out.”
    Pistolbarked, jumped off the bed and beat Maggie to the door. When she opened it a crack, he shot out, a streak of silver disappearing into the dawn darkness. Maggie called after him, “You be right here on the porch waiting for me in an hour, you hear?”
    Maggie closed the door and shivered. The early mornings were getting chilly. She considered building a fire in the grate, but soon dismissed the idea. When the sun came up, the cottage would quickly warm. Until then she would just get back in bed.
    Maggie crawled between the covers, turned onto her side, folded her hands beneath her cheek and closed her eyes. And frowned, troubled. She could not forget seeing Harkins’s parked carriage shaking and bouncing and creaking in yesterday afternoon’s brilliant sunshine. Nor the unsettling sounds of a woman’s sighing shrieks and a man’s deep groans coming from inside the jolting, jiggling buggy.
    Half the population of the fort had seen Captain Daniel Wilde and Lois Harkins set out together for a seemingly innocent Sunday drive. Poor naive Colonel Harkins; foolishly supposing that he could trust his hand-picked aide-de-camp to look after his only daughter.
    Maggie wondered if anyone else knew about the pair’s shameful indiscretion. She didn’t think so. She sure wouldn’t tell anyone. Maggie prided herself on not being a gossip. She never spread rumors. She paid little attention to those she heard. She disliked women who tattled and talked unkindly about others, saying hurtful, harmful things even when they had no proof.
    Maggie rolledonto her back, raised her arms and folded them beneath her head. Her brows knitted and she exhaled heavily. She should, she knew, keep the whole tawdry affair to herself. Tell no one. That’s what she had to do. But how could she possibly keep it from Katie?
    An officer’s wife and Maggie’s dearest female friend, Katie Atwood was tiny, attractive, talkative and a totally likable young woman who loved her husband passionately and enjoyed every minute of her life at the fort.
    Katie Atwood was one of the first people Maggie had met upon her arrival at Fort Sill. Katie had been a one-woman welcoming committee, meeting Maggie’s coach and immediately inviting her to tea. The two of them had been close ever since.
    Maggie suddenly threw back the covers and bounded out of bed. She had to tell Katie. She would tell her everything—and make Katie promise to keep it a secret—when she saw her this afternoon. She and Katie had volunteered to hang new curtains in the house being readied for the half-breed leader, Shanaco.
    The dwelling had been thoroughly cleaned. All it lacked was the new curtains and a few finishing touches. The Comanche chieftain was scheduled to move into the secluded cabin Wednesday morning, just forty-eight hours from now.
    Maggie smiledas she shed her nightgown.
    Truth to tell, she could hardly wait to see the look on Katie’s face when she shared her shocking secret.

Eight
    T he school bellwas clanging when Maggie, in a freshly pressed navy cotton dress with white collar and cuffs, crossed the quadrangle at ten minutes of eight that crisp Monday morning. Pistol walked slowly at her side.
    Students were streaming toward the schoolhouse from every direction, chattering happily in their native tongues. Maggie searched for and quickly spotted her favorite student, the adorable little Bright Feather. The lame six-year-old Kiowa was lagging behind the others, unable to keep up. He tried gamely to overtake the laughing boys who rushed on ahead, but it was impossible.
    The child was left too far behind to make it on his own. Struggling. But, as always, uncomplaining.
    Bright Feather was smiling sunnily, his well-scrubbed young