enlisted men immediately approached them, removed the women's wraps, and whisked the garments off to the first sergeant's room.
"That's the general's wife," Barney informed his new friend as they observed the proceedings, "but I've never seen the beauty coming in behind her. Good gravy, would you look at that gal."
His instructions were hardly necessary. Jacob stood rigid, his accelerating pulse pounding hard enough to strain the buttons on the collar of his new uniform.
It was the crazy woman. Why was she still here? She should have been returned to Bismarck days ago. Jacob's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration. He'd been a fool to bring her here, a weak-hearted, dim-witted fool to have taken her to Fort Lincoln, of all places. He should have turned her over to the other warriors and never given her plight another thought. Now he might have to find a way to silence her in a roomful of soldiers.
Jacob took a couple of backward steps, ducking out of her view, but kept his gaze firmly trained on her profile. He struggled to consider his options, but his mind was preoccupied with the vision his eyes lavished upon him. When he'd plucked her from the icy waters, he knew he'd stumbled on a rare creature, a woman whose delicate features would be cherished by all, regardless of race or background.
But she'd been unconscious then, lacking any spark of life or intelligence. By the time the crazy one had awakened in his tipi, the sun had bedded down for the night, robbing him of the full impact of her beauty. Even from across the room Jacob could see the mischief, the twinkle in her dark brown eyes. Her magnificent golden-red hair, which had been wild and strongly curled by morning's light after he dropped her at the post, was now pulled high on her head and arranged in long spirals cascading down her back. She was alive with joy, robust, and full of good health.
She was stunning.
And more dangerous than any adversary he'd ever encountered.
Jacob could almost hear her gay laughter as she greeted the other guests, treating soldier and laundress with the same good-natured enthusiasm. General Custer, he noticed, stood very close by her, protective and solicitous. His hatred of the man growing along with his fear of discovery, Jacob continued to stare, transfixed, at the crazy woman.
Suddenly she turned and faced him.
Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched, horrified, as she whispered something to the Long Hair.
General Custer looked up at Jacob. Then the pair began walked toward him.
His eyes darting from side to side, desperately searching for an avenue of escape, Jacob backed against the refreshment table. Custer and the woman were directly between him and the only exit.
Feeling trapped, like a wild animal caught in a snare, Jacob clenched his teeth and reached for the scabbard at his hip. He hesitated, fingering the handle, then made a decision as the pair continued to approach.
Jacob pulled the blade from its leather sheath.
Chapter Four
Dominique shivered.
She could feel those eyes, could almost reach out and touch a gaze so intense that doing so would most certainly have scalded her fingertips.
She slowly scanned the crowd. Her fresh good looks, coupled with the fact that she was General Custer's niece, had drawn many a long stare since her arrival at Fort Lincoln. Scores of otherwise intelligent and mannerly gentlemen were falling all over themselves in an effort to gain her attention. But this was different. And this was almost frightening.
Her search came to an abrupt end. Dominique's gaze was drawn into a pair of sapphire-blue eyes glittering at her from across the room. Caught, unable to turn away, she felt as controlled and completely helpless as she'd been while swirling down the raging Missouri. Again she shivered.
He was simply the most overtly masculine man she'd ever seen. Those eyes, intelligent, intense, and thoughtful, seemed to look through her, into her. She felt
"That's the general's wife," Barney informed his new friend as they observed the proceedings, "but I've never seen the beauty coming in behind her. Good gravy, would you look at that gal."
His instructions were hardly necessary. Jacob stood rigid, his accelerating pulse pounding hard enough to strain the buttons on the collar of his new uniform.
It was the crazy woman. Why was she still here? She should have been returned to Bismarck days ago. Jacob's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration. He'd been a fool to bring her here, a weak-hearted, dim-witted fool to have taken her to Fort Lincoln, of all places. He should have turned her over to the other warriors and never given her plight another thought. Now he might have to find a way to silence her in a roomful of soldiers.
Jacob took a couple of backward steps, ducking out of her view, but kept his gaze firmly trained on her profile. He struggled to consider his options, but his mind was preoccupied with the vision his eyes lavished upon him. When he'd plucked her from the icy waters, he knew he'd stumbled on a rare creature, a woman whose delicate features would be cherished by all, regardless of race or background.
But she'd been unconscious then, lacking any spark of life or intelligence. By the time the crazy one had awakened in his tipi, the sun had bedded down for the night, robbing him of the full impact of her beauty. Even from across the room Jacob could see the mischief, the twinkle in her dark brown eyes. Her magnificent golden-red hair, which had been wild and strongly curled by morning's light after he dropped her at the post, was now pulled high on her head and arranged in long spirals cascading down her back. She was alive with joy, robust, and full of good health.
She was stunning.
And more dangerous than any adversary he'd ever encountered.
Jacob could almost hear her gay laughter as she greeted the other guests, treating soldier and laundress with the same good-natured enthusiasm. General Custer, he noticed, stood very close by her, protective and solicitous. His hatred of the man growing along with his fear of discovery, Jacob continued to stare, transfixed, at the crazy woman.
Suddenly she turned and faced him.
Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched, horrified, as she whispered something to the Long Hair.
General Custer looked up at Jacob. Then the pair began walked toward him.
His eyes darting from side to side, desperately searching for an avenue of escape, Jacob backed against the refreshment table. Custer and the woman were directly between him and the only exit.
Feeling trapped, like a wild animal caught in a snare, Jacob clenched his teeth and reached for the scabbard at his hip. He hesitated, fingering the handle, then made a decision as the pair continued to approach.
Jacob pulled the blade from its leather sheath.
Chapter Four
Dominique shivered.
She could feel those eyes, could almost reach out and touch a gaze so intense that doing so would most certainly have scalded her fingertips.
She slowly scanned the crowd. Her fresh good looks, coupled with the fact that she was General Custer's niece, had drawn many a long stare since her arrival at Fort Lincoln. Scores of otherwise intelligent and mannerly gentlemen were falling all over themselves in an effort to gain her attention. But this was different. And this was almost frightening.
Her search came to an abrupt end. Dominique's gaze was drawn into a pair of sapphire-blue eyes glittering at her from across the room. Caught, unable to turn away, she felt as controlled and completely helpless as she'd been while swirling down the raging Missouri. Again she shivered.
He was simply the most overtly masculine man she'd ever seen. Those eyes, intelligent, intense, and thoughtful, seemed to look through her, into her. She felt
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