and general store, everything needed to be self-sufficient. Outside the walls, aspen and cottonwood grew near the riverbanks, but inside the fort the trees had been cut. The compound would be hot as hell in the summer, but there was nothing to impede the view.
Captain Brightman pointed, indicating a large haystack not far from a ditch that brought water from the river. "You can camp over there. I assume Fox informed you of the basic rules we expect visitors to abide by? Good." He turned to Fox. "My wife is visiting. You're welcome to join us for supper, I'm sure she would enjoy meeting you."
A half smile formed on Fox's lips and she turned aside. "Thank you, but I didn't bring any lady go-to-supper clothes." When Brightman assured her that she could come as she was, she shook her head. "We're still a new group," she said, scanning the mules moving past her toward the haystack. "I have my hands full here."
After Brightman and the soldier rode off, Tanner gave her a look of annoyance. "You can go to supper with your friend, for Christ's sake. I think we can muddle through one evening without you." It offended him that she had indicated otherwise.
"I don't want to go," she said, watching Brightman and his men skirt the parade grounds. Her eyes were an unreadable gray blue. "I don't get on well with regular ladies. The minute I left, Brightman's wife would laugh at me. She'd make jokes about how I held my fork, and how I sat, and me wearing trousers."
"You know her?"
Fox shook her head. "I don't have to know her. That's just how it is." She rode past him to help Peaches with the mules.
Tanner looked after her, the anger leaving him as swiftly as it had come. "I'll be damned," he murmured. She wasn't afraid to step in front of a gunslinger itching to squeeze a trigger, but she was afraid of an officer's wife who was probably small and delicate and about as threatening as a kitten, whose only weapon was ridicule.
----
CHAPTER 4
Fox woke with a start in the cold hour before dawn, blinking and straining to see through a moonless darkness. When she spotted a man-shaped shadow walking through the camp, pausing to peer at bedrolls, she jumped to her feet and leveled her rifle.
"You better be Hanratty or Brown, mister, or you're dead."
"Corporal Hansen here, ma'am. Captain Brightman sent me."
Hansen approached, easing past the snores rattling out of Peaches's bedroll. Before the soldier reached her, Matthew Tanner appeared beside Fox, holding a Colt in his right hand.
"Where's Hanratty and Brown? Why the hell didn't they hear this soldier before he was inside our camp?"
Fox was also interested in the answer to that question. "What do you want?" she snapped at Corporal Hansen.
"We've got two of your men in the garrison brig. Captain Brightman said you should fetch them and head out." Hansen spoke to the space between Fox and Tanner, not knowing who he should address. "I'll take you there."
Fox pulled on her boots then looked toward the other bedrolls. If Peaches woke and found no one in camp, he wouldn't know what to make of it. But she hated to wake him before time. Peaches was a man who needed his sleep. Hell, what was she thinking? Peaches would sleep through the final judgment, he wasn't going to wake before someone gave him a shake or the camp bugle sounded.
"Why are my men in the brig?" Tanner asked as they neared the torches placed at the corners of the parade ground. His stride was long and angry.
"Captain Brightman is waiting, sir. He'll explain."
"I want to know now, Corporal."
"There was a fight, sir," Corporal Hansen explained reluctantly. "A dozen soldiers are injured or in jail." He opened the door of the only building fronting the dirt street that was blazing with light at this hour.
There was no friendliness in Brightman's eyes. He turned from speaking to a man with a ring of keys at his waist and scanned Fox and Tanner.
"I'll let you have them, but this is a favor, Fox." He stared at her. "I want
Captain Brightman pointed, indicating a large haystack not far from a ditch that brought water from the river. "You can camp over there. I assume Fox informed you of the basic rules we expect visitors to abide by? Good." He turned to Fox. "My wife is visiting. You're welcome to join us for supper, I'm sure she would enjoy meeting you."
A half smile formed on Fox's lips and she turned aside. "Thank you, but I didn't bring any lady go-to-supper clothes." When Brightman assured her that she could come as she was, she shook her head. "We're still a new group," she said, scanning the mules moving past her toward the haystack. "I have my hands full here."
After Brightman and the soldier rode off, Tanner gave her a look of annoyance. "You can go to supper with your friend, for Christ's sake. I think we can muddle through one evening without you." It offended him that she had indicated otherwise.
"I don't want to go," she said, watching Brightman and his men skirt the parade grounds. Her eyes were an unreadable gray blue. "I don't get on well with regular ladies. The minute I left, Brightman's wife would laugh at me. She'd make jokes about how I held my fork, and how I sat, and me wearing trousers."
"You know her?"
Fox shook her head. "I don't have to know her. That's just how it is." She rode past him to help Peaches with the mules.
Tanner looked after her, the anger leaving him as swiftly as it had come. "I'll be damned," he murmured. She wasn't afraid to step in front of a gunslinger itching to squeeze a trigger, but she was afraid of an officer's wife who was probably small and delicate and about as threatening as a kitten, whose only weapon was ridicule.
----
CHAPTER 4
Fox woke with a start in the cold hour before dawn, blinking and straining to see through a moonless darkness. When she spotted a man-shaped shadow walking through the camp, pausing to peer at bedrolls, she jumped to her feet and leveled her rifle.
"You better be Hanratty or Brown, mister, or you're dead."
"Corporal Hansen here, ma'am. Captain Brightman sent me."
Hansen approached, easing past the snores rattling out of Peaches's bedroll. Before the soldier reached her, Matthew Tanner appeared beside Fox, holding a Colt in his right hand.
"Where's Hanratty and Brown? Why the hell didn't they hear this soldier before he was inside our camp?"
Fox was also interested in the answer to that question. "What do you want?" she snapped at Corporal Hansen.
"We've got two of your men in the garrison brig. Captain Brightman said you should fetch them and head out." Hansen spoke to the space between Fox and Tanner, not knowing who he should address. "I'll take you there."
Fox pulled on her boots then looked toward the other bedrolls. If Peaches woke and found no one in camp, he wouldn't know what to make of it. But she hated to wake him before time. Peaches was a man who needed his sleep. Hell, what was she thinking? Peaches would sleep through the final judgment, he wasn't going to wake before someone gave him a shake or the camp bugle sounded.
"Why are my men in the brig?" Tanner asked as they neared the torches placed at the corners of the parade ground. His stride was long and angry.
"Captain Brightman is waiting, sir. He'll explain."
"I want to know now, Corporal."
"There was a fight, sir," Corporal Hansen explained reluctantly. "A dozen soldiers are injured or in jail." He opened the door of the only building fronting the dirt street that was blazing with light at this hour.
There was no friendliness in Brightman's eyes. He turned from speaking to a man with a ring of keys at his waist and scanned Fox and Tanner.
"I'll let you have them, but this is a favor, Fox." He stared at her. "I want
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