Colt by Georgina Gentry Read Free Book Online Page B

the porch.
    The whole fort was starting to stir, men crossing the parade grounds, the bugle sounding, the flag raising. She wouldn’t have a chance of getting away right now, but she had to get back to the Comanche camp.
    What to do? Hannah thought a minute. If she could convince all these white people that she was trustworthy and grateful, they would begin to trust her. In a day or so, she would be able to escape under cover of darkness because they wouldn’t be expecting it.
    She heard stirring from Doc’s quarters and she got up and went to sit at the table. Doc came in just then, yawning and scratching his bald head and the fringe of white hair surrounding it. “Oh, are you up, young lady? How did you—?”
    â€œIt was hurting.” She looked down at her wrist, which still had shreds of rope on it. “I feel better now.”
    â€œGood. I’m glad you seem to have come to your senses. I know you have been through a terrible ordeal.” His accent was clipped and sounded strange to the Texas girl. He must have come from farther north.
    She had to think a minute to come up with English words. She had spoken nothing but Comanche for so long. “I—I was afraid last night, not sure what had happened.”
    He nodded and smiled. “I’ll start us some coffee and bacon.”
    â€œThank you, but I have my sandwich from last night.” She nodded toward the leftover she had laid on her bedside table.
    â€œNever mind. I’ll throw that away and get you some biscuits and gravy. I’m pretty good in the kitchen. My wife died years ago and I had to learn.”
    As he turned away, Hannah said, “The lieutenant is still sitting outside asleep.”
    â€œOh? I’ll invite him in to share.” Doc went to the door and opened it. “Good morning, Lieutenant. We’re starting some breakfast. Care to join us?”
    Past Doc’s shoulder, she saw the big, dark-haired officer come awake with a start, and he stood up, moving as if he was stiff and sore. “Oh, hell, Doc. How’s our captive?”
    â€œCompletely different this morning. Come on in.”
    She smiled at the tall soldier as he blinked at her. He had black hair and green eyes and a deep tan. He came inside and shut the door behind him, stared at her. “How did you—?”
    â€œIt hurt my arm.” She shrugged and rubbed her wrist.
    Doc said, “Dag nab it, I’ll go get some coffee going, you two can talk.” He left the room and went back to his quarters.
    She felt the awkward silence.
    The lieutenant cleared his throat. “How are you?”
    She paused a moment, fishing for the English words. “All right now. Last night, I was not sure what was happening. Thank you for rescuing me.”
    He seemed to sigh in relief. “That’s all right. I lived with the Comanche myself for ten years and was adopted into the tribe. I know what you’ve been through.”
    She winced, remembering Spider’s brutality. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
    â€œThat’s right.” He nodded. “You’ve got to look forward, not behind you, now that you’re back among your own people again.”
    She smelled coffee coming from Doc’s quarters and heard him bustling around, banging pans. “What—what will happen to me now?”
    He walked over and looked down at her with understanding and pity in those green eyes. “I reckon the major has already sent out messengers tryin’ to locate your husband. Until he comes for you, I reckon you can just stay at the fort.”
    She turned away so he couldn’t see her face. “I don’t think my husband will want me back, since, well, you know.”
    He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He’ll want you back.” His voice was soft and compassionate, a Texas drawl. “No matter what happened to you, it wasn’t your fault and he’ll understand