Authors: Mary Wine
The complexities of social interaction didn’t seem to be too great for the people below her. So why was it something she was unable to accomplish? She straightened her back. She wasn’t going to find the answer up here. The only true way to learn something was to do it. Maybe that meant she was going to fall flat on her face, but she wasn’t afraid of a few bruises.
Her decision made, Grace descended into the valley and entered the Northern camp. Some of the women looked up and greeted her. Making the effort to respond in kind, she watched with interest as food was prepared over campfires. She knew survival skills, but cooking beyond killing bacteria was a mystery.
“Grace, over here.”
It wasn’t hard to identify Jacobs’s dance partner from last night. The woman’s crown of auburn hair had been visible even from a distance. Grace returned her smile and made her way to the table she was working at.
“I’m Beth, and an extra pair of hands is always welcome at my fire.”
Grace’s uncertainty must have been written on her face because Beth took a moment to consider her newest recruit. She narrowed her eyes as she decided on a task.
“Be careful, my dad insists on keeping my cooking knives razor sharp.”
Running her thumb over the edge of the weapon in question, Grace gave an appreciative nod at its edge. Beth’s father knew how to treat a blade.
“I’ve been told I have a knack for sharp weapons.”
Turning her head away from her fire, Beth gave her a critical look in response.
“I guess it’s a lucky thing for all the men that they are out on the field.”
“Maybe.”
A giggle escaped from Beth. “I’m not sure if you’re serious or not, but it’s amusing either way.” The banter about the cooking table was very interesting. Grace had no idea that women talked like that. As all of the men were on the battlefield, it was open season on the males of Benton County. Grace caught Beth looking at her several times.
“You have a question to ask.”
“Well, it’s not really any of my business.” Beth stumbled over her words.
“Is it personal?” That might account for the woman’s reluctance to voice it. Beth worried her lower lip for a time. She set her shoulders firmly before opening her mouth. “Is Jacobs yours?”
“My what?”
“Your man,” Beth clarified.
“Oh…” Grace’s words trailed off as she considered the other woman. Men were jealous creatures. It would seem that women were much more practical about it all. They simply asked.
“We just work together.”
“Really?” Beth asked hesitantly. “You’re not his girlfriend?”
“No,” Grace assured her.
“I could have told you that,” another woman chimed in. “After all, if any of you had seen Grace here with Brice Campbell last night, you would know that Jacobs isn’t her man. Brice is.”
Grace nearly cut her finger off. She stopped cutting and gaped at the woman. They promptly burst into giggles. Beth reached over and gave her a quick hug.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Nothing’s a secret in Benton County.”
“Obviously not.”
Grace spent the rest of the day with the women, who seemed to delight in teasing her about Brice. They found things for her to do and she really tried. But after burning her second round of vegetables, she was banned from the cooking fire and sent back to the chopping block.
When she ran out of things to chop, Beth handed her an apron. After donning it, she found herself up to her elbows in flour and bread dough. The surprising thing was she really liked it. The dough was rubbery and sticky and she enjoyed working it about. She let a smile cross her face as she worked another lump.
Brice and Jacobs found her just like that. “Brice, buddy, you might have to hold me up.”
Jacobs reached up and teased his forehead for fever.
Grace flattened the ball of dough she was kneading in response.
Brice sent her a smile while tipping his hat, then bent down and placed a fleeting kiss on Grace’s lips. The action started several women giggling. Grace felt the blush as it stained her face. It also caused the few men in the area to move back several paces. They tipped their own hats while they lowered their eyes and moved to place the other women between them and Grace.
“Wouldn’t it have been simpler to post a sign on my forehead?” Her voice was barely a whisper but her eyes were screaming at him.
“Kissing you was much more enjoyable.”
“You are an irritating man at times, Mr. Campbell.”
“Oh, but most men are.” Beth sent Grace a wink as she scooped up the ball of dough. Her blue eyes simmered as she moved them over Jacobs. “Especially the ones that wear uniforms. It’s their complete faith in their mental superiority.”
“Brice is the only one around here that wears a regular uniform, but I appreciate the compliment.” Jacobs grinned with his comment.
Grace didn’t bat an eye at Jacobs’s words. It wasn’t so much a matter of honesty as it was a matter of security. Beth held no true understanding of the risks involved with knowing just who Jacobs was. Throwing her off the scent was for her own good.
Neither of them would be staying. For a moment, she felt like it bothered her. She locked gazes with Brice and saw the same knowledge flickering in his eyes.
“Um-hum. Well, if that’s the way it is. I have a suggestion for you, Mr. Jacobs.”
Beth turned with a swish of her skirt and settled her head exactly three inches from Jacobs’s ear. “The next time you dance with a lady, remove that rather large-caliber pistol you keep in your shoulder harness or leave a bit more space between yourself and your partner. Because there are the bulges that a girl’s mother tells her to steer clear of
and then
there are the bulges that a girl’s father warns her about.”
The second Beth had delivered her opinion she swept her skirts around both men with a rustle and turned back to her cooking. A grin spread over Jacobs’s face, making Grace stare. He looked like a schoolyard boy as he watched the sway of Beth’s skirts.
“Yes, sir,” Clark said clearly. “It will be my pleasure.”
On the other end of the line, a grin appeared on the man’s face as he snapped his phone shut. “It’s in motion.”
“This is going to delay delivery.”
The first man put his cell phone back in his shirt pocket. “Another month in that sheriff’s company and it will be easy to make it look like she went rogue. This is the only way to keep her off base.”
The second man wasn’t convinced just yet. “Is this Clark any good? She’s worth nothing dead.”
“He’s good enough.”
It was all the assurance offered, so it would have to be enough.
The afternoon had one last battle and it seemed that most of the participants would be leaving soon after it was concluded. Beth served up lunch before she began packing her camp kitchen. Brice and Jacobs helped her haul her cooking pots back up the trail where the cars were parked.
Grace was actually feeling pleased with her efforts. She had managed to converse with other women and not run for cover. It was surprising how much she had enjoyed the good-natured banter, but the lack of sleep from the past night was beginning to catch up with her. With a muttered farewell to Beth, she ducked into her tent while the men continued on to the parking lot.
Her body gratefully sank onto the cot as she relaxed. She opened her eyes a half hour later to find Jacobs kneeling beside her.
Pushing herself up, Grace gave him a steady look.
“You spend too much time worrying about me. I told you, I won’t follow Susan’s example. So leave me be.”
Jacobs raised an eyebrow at her statement. “Not a chance, Gracie.”
Now it was her turn to frown. Jacobs only called her Gracie when he was trying to get inside her head. His eyes darkened as they took in her frown. An unpleasant smile appeared on his face.
“Later. But we’re going to talk.” His voice held a wealth of warning. He reached out, unlocked the silver bracelet from her wrist and slid it into the front pocket of his jacket. “Come on. Beth’s outside waiting for you to join her.”
In fact, both Brice and Beth were waiting. They stood close to the corral and spoke in quiet tones as they waited. She slowly met his eyes. He returned her look with a steady strength that had Grace wanting to back up. A slow smile crept across his face, and Grace did take that step back.
Beth gave a loud sigh. She walked over and took Grace by the hand.
“You will have to excuse Sheriff Campbell. He was born handicapped by the fact that he’s a male.”
Grace suppressed a laugh at the woman’s ability to casually insult both of the men present. Beth started to pull Grace off but Jacobs stopped them.
“Where are the two of you headed?”
Beth turned around and settled her hands on her hips before giving him an answer.
“Nothing you boys would be interested in. Now go play with your guns and we’ll let you know if you manage to impress us today.”
Chapter Six
Beth led Grace up to the top of the clearing. A number of women had made their way there as well. It seemed to be the end of the weekend social. They all stood about a hundred yards from the tree line. It gave them a terrific view of the battlefield.
The women slowly milled about sharing stories of events past and some of the current event. Beth took Grace along with her, introducing her as they spoke with different groups. The reveille sounded and they quieted down, giving their attention to the columns of men that were beginning to enter the field.
Gunfire exploded on the field. The women surged forward to get a good view. Grace hung back and simply observed the battle. There came another round of black-powder explosions. The cannons fired off next. Grace searched out Jacobs and watched him work the large gun. The men on the firing line reloaded and readied their weapons for another round.
An explosion split the air, and Grace stumbled forward with it. She caught herself, forcing herself to remain on her feet by sheer will. Her entire right side was bone-chillingly numb.
She knew exactly what that meant.
It wasn’t the first time she’d felt bullets pierce her flesh. The numbness began to recede as burning pain replaced it. She forced it back, deepening her breaths to keep oxygen flowing to her brain.
The cavalry started their charge up the hill as Grace tried to discover just where the bullet had hit her. She had no doubt about it. The pain centered just above her right hipbone. It was surging and screaming along her nerve endings. Her hand clasped the area and she felt the warm sticky slide of blood seep through her fingers.
Grace tightened her grip on the wound but she felt the blood pool in her hand. She deepened her breaths again. She was losing blood too fast to retain her feet. Her paging unit was lying discarded back inside the tent. She’d left it behind in the face of being shackled with the bracelet this morning.
She was also standing in the open with a sniper aiming at her.
Life seemed to be in complete agreement with Jacobs. Deserting her unit was an invitation to get killed. Without her one link with Jacobs it was possible that she wouldn’t get the chance to tell him he was right.
Brice was leaning over Cole’s neck as he began another run across the battlefield. The final battle of the weekend was always the most intense. Yes, he was a boy with his toys. Cole left the other members of the cavalry unit behind. Brice didn’t slow him but gave the stallion his head until he had reached the top of the cannon row. He pulled the horse in and Cole lifted up on his hindquarters with his front hooves pawing at the air.
Cole’s forelegs hit the ground and Brice looked up the hill expecting to see the smiling faces of the women. His smile faded as he saw they were clustered about something, and in fact a few of them were waving him up the hill. Digging his heels into Cole, Brice sent the horse up the hill at a gallop.
He stopped Cole six feet from the cluster of women and jumped from the saddle. People immediately gave way as he traveled to the center of the disturbance. Icy dread gripped him as he got a look at Grace. She was on her knees and fighting to stay upright. Her hand and arm were drenched in bright red blood. The gray coat she wore was slick with it.
“Brice?”
Stripping the costume jacket from her, he cursed at the amount of blood that he found under it. Pulling the remains of her blouse free, his eyes settled onto the wound. He knew a gunshot wound when he saw one. Using her clothing, Brice applied brutal strength in his effort to slow the bleeding. She sharply drew her breath in but made no complaint.
“I see your point.”
“About what?” Brice didn’t care what she said as long as she remained conscious enough to speak.
“Waiting for backup.” Confusion crossed his brown eyes briefly. Grace really wondered why. Her statement was clear enough. Didn’t all men enjoy being told they were right? “I left my pager in the tent.”
To the other women present that was an innocent statement. Brice knew better. One squeeze on that electronic unit would have brought help on the double. Every Ranger knew the slim black satellite links were their main source of help.