Baxter,” Rafe said in an overly polite tone, “one of the officers’ wives offered you decent clothing.” Stiffly, he thrust the dresses at her then shifted awkwardly. “As for the…um…feminine paraphernalia that goes beneath it, I won’t be able to provide that until the post trader’s store opens in the morning. As for proper shoes, that might take some time in acquiring. You’ll have to wear your cloddish boots.”
Difficult as it was to be gracious, Karissa rose from her chair to accept the dresses. “Thank you,” she murmured, uncomfortable with accepting charity. “I was just telling Captain Whitfield that I would like to occupy my time and earn wages by becoming a fort laundress.”
Rafe’s thick brows flattened over his narrowed eyes. “I think not. You’ll have to find something to occupy yourself in my room. Perhaps you can sew buttons back on uniforms and darn socks. But you will not be permitted to have the run of this garrison.”
Karissa hitched her chin in the air and defiantly strode over to the cot. She proceeded to jerk off the blanket and sheets. Holding Rafe’s fuming gaze, she dumped the bedding on the floor then made short shrift of transferring his personal belongings from his trunk to the floor.
Beside her, she heard Micah camouflage a chuckle behind a cough. She glanced over her shoulder to see him battling to keep a straight face—and failing miserably.
Rafe glared sabers at her. “Are you finished making your point, Miss Baxter?” he growled.
“Not quite.” Karissa knew she was sliding on the thin edge of his temper, but it was her nature to spit in the face of defeat. She made a beeline for the bookshelf that was lined with military manuals and dumped them, one by one, atop the bedding. “Now I’m finished and I’m bored again.”
Micah bounded from his chair, his eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. “I think I had better leave before the next skirmish starts. Don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire.”
“No, you’ll stay,” Rafe demanded without taking his eyes off Karissa.
“You definitely have to stay, Captain,” Karissa chimed in then flashed Rafe an impudent grin. “The General is afraid to be alone with me. Terrified, in fact.”
She almost cackled when he puffed up with so much indignation he nearly popped the brass buttons off his uniform.
“Given my position of authority here, there are a lot of people who are afraid to cross me.” He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “You should be one of them.”
“Really? I didn’t know you were God’s brother,” she sassed him.
Micah snickered, but he schooled his amused expression when Rafe shot him an irritated glance.
“Might I remind you, Miss Baxter,” Rafe said through clenched teeth, “that your other option here is to be jailed with the male prisoners in the stockade.”
Karissa shrugged carelessly. “I can take care of myself, General. And believe me, I have found myself in more harrowing situations than being thrust into a stockade with male prisoners.” Her green eyes sparkled with challenge. “Of course, if you wish to contend with a full-scale riot that voices objections to being crowded into unsanitary conditions that, no doubt, plague your stockade, then lead me to it.”
“I don’t think she’s spouting an empty threat, Rafe. It wouldn’t take much to incite the imprisoned settlers. Joan of Arc here looks all too eager to champion a rebellion,” Micah interjected. “However, we are short on laundresses at the moment and we could use her offered services. You can always put a guard on her so you can keep track of her constantly.”
Karissa graced Micah with her best smile. “Ah, a man who shows reason and common sense.” She turned back to the stony-faced commander. “I can understand why Captain Whitfield has been chosen as second in command to serve as your advisor, consultant and mentor.”
She waited, wondering if Rafe would relent, especially after she had purposely goaded him. He stood there so stiffly for so long that she almost gave up and resorted to taking the rest of his room apart and leaving it in shambles. Finally he blew out his breath and nodded curtly.
“Very well, Miss Baxter, you can begin your duties as laundress and housekeeper in the officers’ quarters first thing in the morning.” He glared at her again. “And you can start by undoing the damage to my room. I want this place to look exactly the way it did before you performed your whirling dervish act.”
She flashed him a mocking smile and noticed his jaw clenched in determined restraint. She suspected he would enjoy strangling her for maneuvering him into agreeing to her request. Well, tough. She would like to choke him for detaining her at the post.
“You are too kind, General,” she cooed pretentiously.
“For the last time,” he gritted out, “stop calling me General!”
When the door swung shut behind Rafe and Micah, Karissa half collapsed on the bed. Squaring off against Rafe Hunter was exhausting. She decided to postpone her escape attempt for a day. Besides, she could use the extra money and she would have the opportunity to familiarize herself with the daily routine at the fort. With money jingling in her pocket she could plan the perfect time to make her escape without drawing too much attention to herself. Then she would return to the property she hoped to claim for her brother and sister-in-law.
But this time, she vowed, she was going to be more watchful and attentive when the army patrol came hunting for illegal squatters. She would dig a hole and pull it in after her, if need be, but she was going to stake a claim on the land she had selected to be the Baxter homestead.
“You were a lot of help,” Rafe muttered to Micah a few minutes later at headquarters as they prepared the duty roster for the following day.
Micah took a seat beside Rafe to peruse the schedule. “Oh, come on, Rafe, you really can’t expect a woman with that much restless energy to sit in a room night and day indefinitely. We lost three laundresses whose husbands intend to participate in the Land Run, and we’re shorthanded. Plus, if you put a guard on Karissa she can’t get far.”
Rafe snorted irritably. “You haven’t scuffled with her. I have. She could be gone before a negligent guard realized it. That woman is too crafty and clever for her own good.”
“She gets to you, doesn’t she?” Micah asked candidly.
Rafe scowled in frustration. Yes, that hellion was definitely getting under his skin—to the extreme. Never in his life had he been forced to match wits with such a quick-minded female. And to his baffled amazement, he found her extremely attractive, even when she looked like a scruffy ragamuffin in those dowdy men’s clothes. In all fairness, she shouldn’t ooze sex appeal with her tomboyish appearance and her fiery temperament and that sassy mouth.
It was those green eyes that sparked with so much inner spirit that really got to him, he decided. In addition, he had the outrageous urge to grab a handful of that wild mane of curly red hair, pull her to him and kiss the breath out of her when she challenged him. It was an inappropriate and insane reaction—like nothing he had previously experienced in his association with women.
Before Karissa blew into his life like a tornado, he had never had difficulty controlling his emotions. Ordinarily he reacted with logic and intellect. But he couldn’t respond normally when she purposely tormented him.
