Page 27 of At Love’s Command

Matt blew out a sigh and urged Phineas to an easy canter. Josie stayed right with him, as he knew she would. A capable horsewoman. One who’d been smart to wear trousers. They were a practical garment for long rides. It spoke well of her common sense. It wasn’t her fault his mind kept wandering where it had no business going.

Her brother. That was what he should be thinking about. Matt knew the type. Privileged. Spoiled. Eager to earn the respect of their peers with money and stupid stunts, not realizing that the very friends they worked so hard to impress cared nothing for them. Would desert them the instant things grew dull or difficult. He’d trained more than a few recruits with similar backgrounds. He’d tried to instill a sense of purpose in them. Teach them to fight for something bigger than themselves. To find honor in serving their country, protecting others, and defending the men at their sides. Men who wouldn’t abandon them in battle, who cared more about mettle than money. Some couldn’t handle the strict military lifestyle, having every moment dictated by bugle calls or orders from others. Some couldn’t handle the grueling training and loneliness of long patrols. But some . . . some found the inner strength to apply themselves, to become men of character, men worthy of genuine respect.

Men like Mark Wallace. Wallace had come to him as a flamboyant kid with a talent for horsemanship and a reckless craving for adventure that endangered all around him. Now he was a man others depended upon, one who’d taken a bullet for his captain. His friend.

Perhaps he could do the same for Charlie. Matt had heard the sorrow, the embarrassment in Josie’s voice as she explained the situation. She loved her brother, wanted him to be a man of character, a man who would bring the family honor instead of disgrace. Maybe Matt could put in a good word for the kid with the commanders of the 7th. Get him some military discipline and pride. Maybe . . .

“I think I see Mr. Brooks.” Josie raised her voice to be heard above the hoofbeats.

Matt jerked himself out of his own thoughts, swiveled his head to the side to look at her, then peered in the direction she pointed.

Sure enough, Jonah sat atop his horse at the edge of the rise, rifle draped across his lap in readiness, waiting for them to crest the hill.

“Yep,” he snapped, angry at himself for dropping his guard. If Jonah had been foe instead of friend, Matt could have led them straight into an ambush. “Let’s go.” His voice was sharp, even to his own ears, but he made no apology.

The time for tenderness had passed. If he was going to lead the Horsemen into battle, he couldn’t allow distractions. And there was no bigger distraction than the woman riding at his side.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Matt reined Phineas in as he topped the rise where Jonah waited. The sharpshooter didn’t seem shocked in the least by Josephine’s appearance. Although he’d probably deduced her identity halfway up the hill with those keen eyes of his.

“Ma’am.” Jonah tugged on his hat brim as if he’d just met her crossing the street in town instead of out in the middle of nowhere, dressed in a hodgepodge of men’s and women’s clothing.

Josephine nodded to him as she leaned forward in her saddle and patted the palomino’s neck. “Mr. Brooks. Fine day for a ride, don’t you think?”

“Beats walkin’.”

She smiled as she straightened. “That it does.”

“The others are just up the road a piece.” He gave a little nod to indicate the direction, then turned to meet Matt’s gaze, a teasing gleam in his eyes. “I’ll bring up the rear. Keep an eye out for any more trouble.”

“More trouble?” Josie scanned the surrounding countryside as if an attack were suddenly imminent. “Just how much trouble have you faced so far on your journey?”

“Not a lick ’til you showed up.” The former buffalo soldier chuckled, his grin wide as he circled his mount behind them.

A tinge of pink colored Josephine’s cheeks.

Matt scowled a reprimand at Brooks as he passed. Jonah swallowed the sound of his laughter, but his shoulders kept right on shaking, making his opinion on women in the ranks abundantly clear.

Not that Matt could argue the point. Josephine had already proven a distraction. The sooner the other Horsemen heard her out and made a decision, the better. Once she was back in Purgatory Springs, he’d regain full use of his wits and could take care of business. He’d deliver the kid to his sister, then be on his way. Free of entanglements. He might have a few new regrets to add to the sack he carried, but better to take ’em on when they were small than to let them grow to a size that could break him later.

“Ignore him,” Matt groused as he moved Phineas to block her view of Sergeant Brooks and his shaking shoulders. “The others are waiting.”

She didn’t quite meet his gaze, but she nodded and nudged her mount into a trot.

Ten minutes later, Preach was waving them over to a small stream a hundred yards or so from the road. He meandered out to meet them, squinting and craning his neck as he tried to discern the identity of their guest. “Is that . . . Dr. Jo?”

Josephine drew her mount to a halt and pushed the too-large hat higher on her head. “Mr. Davenport,” she said in acknowledgment.

Luke raised a brow. “You come all the way out here to check on Wallace?” He glanced over his shoulder to where Mark had pushed to his feet from sitting with his back against a tree. “The kid’s a little cranky, but I checked his arm when we stopped, and it seems to be holdin’ up just fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Josephine said, “but I’m not here as a doctor today. I’m here as a client.” Her gaze swept over each man in turn. “I want to hire the Horsemen.”

Matt tried to gauge Luke’s reaction, but the big man gave little away beyond a small start of surprise.

“Well, then. I guess we better get you down from there so we can have ourselves a powwow.” Preach strode forward and reached for her, but she waved off his assistance.