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"I don't know, really. We think he came from Fort Davis, but that's all I could get out of him before he collapsed. I think he's a scout."
"He's not from Fort Davis, but that doesn't matter. He probably is a scout, from the looks of him. Damn renegade." The officer shuffled his feet. "We were to meet the stage. It was carrying a prisoner. Any idea where it might be?"
"It's overdue...I know that." Katherine felt herself tremble and it annoyed her to be so vulnerable to this officer. She turned to the kitchen as her defense.
It seemed all soldiers had preformed ideas about scouts, but yet, when needed they didn't hesitate to use them. She shot him a hostile glare at his back.
"And your name Miss...?"
"Katherine Hightower." She stood straight and went around him to meet him eye to eye. "My brother Joshua is in the barn, cleaning the stalls. Although, there isn't much need of it now."
"You run this station?" the commanding officer asked with a cold and impersonal voice.
"I do now. My parents died. I've taken it over. I figured Mr. Butterfield would appreciate me attending it, 'till he could find a proper replacement." She hated being under obligation to answer this man's questions, but what could she do?
"I'm sure he would, under the circumstances." The officer took his gloves off, dusted them on his other hand and set them neatly upon the end of the table before moving toward the stove. He acted with an air of authority, as though it was his business to know what she had to offer him and his men. He inhaled the aroma of stew, his facial expression beginning to relax. "My men and I are quite hungry. We've been riding for days. I'll send some of them out to search the perimeter and you will come along to the fort. It isn't safe here anymore. Undoubtedly the stage has met with some trouble as the Butterfield is always on time."
"I'll fix you something to eat, sir," Katherine said and moved past them to the stew pot. "I have stew, it's meager but nourishing, and some cornbread."
"That'll do just fine," He said glancing first at her and then the stew once more. He ordered the second soldier to bed their animals and wash up.
"I am Captain Reynolds, Miss Hightower, from Fort Davis."
Katherine knew not to show any signs of fear or worry. She silently willed her hands not to shake, her voice not to break. But she was in combat with an inner turmoil. She was worried how long they might stay. What they might see and do. She wondered if anyone was snooping about the barn. She knew instinctively she had to get rid of them, but how? They wanted her to leave her home too. She couldn't just walk away from it, no matter the danger.
"You've blood on your dress, how'd that happen?" The Captain asked.
She started to answer but Chase mumbled distracting the Captain as he came to stand over him.
"How long's he been like that?" The officer came to stand in front of Chase.
"Most of the day." Katherine glanced at Chase and his hand fisted. She went over to him, wiped his brow with a rag, and touched his hand. It relaxed. She could feel the tension flowing from Chase every time the officer came close or asked a question.
"Guess it's a good thing he was here," the officer said eyeing her carefully.
"He wasn't here. We found him, a ways out, while looking for the stage." She rushed to explain.
Did he not believe her? She couldn't fret about him. She needed to keep calm. Keep everyone calm.
"Is he able to travel?" The officer eyed her carefully.
"Travel?" It was her one hope. "No sir. It would kill him. I'm sure of that. We've just now stopped the bleeding. I barely got the bullet out of him."
The officer eyed her carefully as she dished up a meal to him and his men. His skepticism floated about her on every answer, as though he were weighing it. She wondered if all men of authority carried such an air of disbelief.
"That can't be helped; I won't leave a woman and a boy alone out here. It would be murder with the Comanche so close on our heels. We were in a minor skirmish yesterday. Although he might be of service to the army, I can't sacrifice you for him," The officer acknowledged as he ate.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but he cannot be moved." Katherine insisted, "Being a Christian I won't have his death on my conscious. After all, Captain, he is a scout for your army."
The officer looked from her to Chase Rivers. "Very well, if you are determined to nurse this man to health, then I will leave a couple of soldiers here and you will follow as soon as he is able."
Katherine didn't know what to say. The Captain was only being considerate, but she couldn't understand why. He questioned everything.
"I'm sure they won't attack here once we are gone. Especially since you have given them your horses." The officer smirked.
"I certainly didn't want to give them my horses, Captain," Katherine added, not liking the way he spoke of it. Her uneasiness grew as his eyes pinned her.
"No…of course you didn't." He stared at her and then glanced down at her skirt. "Now…Why is there blood on your dress?" He asked, his brows knitting together as his eyes traveled her.
