Carol Finch - Oklahoma Bride

When the two other laundresses carried off their baskets of clean clothes, leaving Karissa alone with Harlan, he stepped closer and devoured her with another of those insulting stares that visually undressed her.

“So, is the commander’s mistress also available to enlisted men or is he the only one allowed to sample your charms?” Harlan asked rudely.

Karissa tossed the underwear she was cleaning into the soap-filled tub then rounded on the smirking guard. “I am no man’s mistress,” she informed him sharply. “I am under house arrest, same as the men in the stockade.”

Harlan smiled sarcastically. “Of course, and that explains why you’re staying in Commander Hunter’s living quarters and dining beside him in the mess hall. Come now, sweetheart, everyone at this post knows that rank has privileges. But you should know that the commander is betrothed already. If you’re scheming to become more than his mistress I suggest you think again. The high-and-mighty commander is marrying into another well-known family of military echelon. You’ll never be more to him than the time he’s killing before the wedding.”

Karissa didn’t know why that information sent her stomach on a downward spiral. Rafe Hunter was betrothed to one of his own kind? She shouldn’t be the least bit surprised…or hurt by the news.

It wasn’t as if she wanted Rafe for herself, for she had vowed years earlier that she would never care so much for a man that he could wield the power to destroy her. She had watched her father reduce himself to gambling and drinking when her mother died unexpectedly. She would never let herself become that dependent on anyone.

Looking out for her younger brother fulfilled her need to be useful and needed, and she had no intention of finding herself at the mercy of any man. She had been independent and self-reliant too many years to sit still for that!

She knew Rafe Hunter was far above her station in life, that he was devoted to his military position, that he would—and should—marry someone of equal social prominence. Yet…

And yet nothing, Karissa scolded herself as she went back to work. Yes, Rafe Hunter was attractive and his dynamic presence demanded her attention. Yes, he was sharp minded and she enjoyed the challenge of matching wits with him. Yes, he appealed to her physically and he stirred something deep inside her the way no other man ever had.

But nothing would ever come of it, she reminded herself sensibly. She refused to let it. She enjoyed playing the role of his antagonist until he released her, because ruffling his military feathers provided mentally stimulating amusement.

Harlan nodded toward the soapy tub where Karissa vigorously scrubbed dirty clothes. “There’s an easier and more pleasurable way to earn extra money,” he insisted. “Although the soldiers don’t mind riding into the nearby community to take a tumble with the prostitutes, I’ve no doubt that I could make arrangements for you to visit the men in their barracks. For a cut of the profit, of course.”

Karissa glared at Harlan. It didn’t take long to realize that Harlan was an opportunist who constantly looked for ways to make quick and easy money to supplement his army salary.

“Do you also steal from the post’s commissary and turn the goods to would-be settlers for a profit, Harlan?” she asked perceptively.

She could tell by the look on his face that her presumption was right on the mark. He jerked upright and stared her down. “Just because you’re the commander’s whore doesn’t mean you can use the power of your new position to hurl false accusations to get me demoted or court-martialed.” He stalked over to wag a bony finger in her face and, when he sneered at her, his thin lips all but disappeared. “If you get me in trouble with Rafe Hunter I swear you will regret it.”

Karissa flung wet underwear at his chest before hurriedly brushing past him. “Excuse me, I need to see to my needs, Corporal Billings. No need to follow me to the latrine. I was told that you know exactly where it is since you’re the one who dug it.”

Leaving Harlan sputtering and swearing, Karissa strode across the compound. If nothing else, she needed a mental break from her annoying guard. She was sure she could have handled that weasel better if he hadn’t blindsided her with the announcement that Rafe was betrothed.

The news had caught her off balance, was all. It explained why Rafe was reluctant to come near her, why he had been taken aback by her request to exchange intimate favors for her freedom. He was obviously in love with his fiancée and intended to remain faithful to her.

Damn, she certainly had come off looking and sounding like a trollop, she mused, disgruntled. She had completely misunderstood Rafe’s intentions of putting her up in his room, and she had tried to turn the situation to her advantage. All she had accomplished was leaving him with the wrong impression of her.

Yes, she had stretched the limits of the law along the way—in the name of caring and providing for her younger brother. She had relied on her wits to obtain funds to support herself and Clint. Never once had she resorted to offering sexual favors for money. She was not about to start now. All she had was her pride. If she ever lost that then she would be poor and pathetic indeed.

Karissa took a deep, cathartic breath to regain her composure. For certain, she wasn’t going to let Harlan Billings rattle her. She was stuck with him—at least until Micah returned and she could request another guard who was less offensive.

When she walked across the parade grounds, she noticed Harlan leaning casually against the washroom wall, smiling that nasty little smile that made her want to double her fist and clobber him. The man was a menace to this army post. She could understand why he had been demoted, why Rafe and Micah chose to leave him behind while they scouted for squatters.

No doubt, Rafe had selected Harlan as her guard to punish her for antagonizing him. Well, it had worked. Karissa couldn’t wait to deliver the clothes she had washed and return to her room. Being alone was far better than spending time with the likes of Harlan Billings.

Micah frowned curiously when Rafe led the patrol in the same direction they had taken the previous evening. “We’re backtracking?”

Rafe nodded. Although the patrol had reconnoitered a different area during the day he wanted to check that no other squatters had pitched camp on the land that Karissa wanted for her own. For the life of him he didn’t know why he was granting her that favor. Nonetheless, he wanted to see to it that this plot of ground remained unclaimed until the day of the Run. She would have a fair chance to obtain the property without some Sooner staking it illegally.

A few moments later he heard Micah chuckling behind him. “Ah, now I understand. Very gallant of you, Rafe. You want the witch, as you refer to her, to have an opportunity to acquire a deed to the property she has her heart set on.”

“Clam up,” Rafe muttered when Micah snickered again.

His thoughts scattered when he noticed movement in the dense trees that shaded the creek where he had first spotted Karissa. He motioned for the patrol to encircle the area so they could swarm down from all directions at once.

Alarmed shouts followed the thundering hoofbeats as the mounted patrol converged. Rafe cursed sourly when three of the eight men bounded into their saddles and raced down the winding stream, eluding the patrol.

Well, no matter, he consoled himself. He would be back the next day, and the next. He wouldn’t allow illegal squatters to return and set up camp on this particular plot of land.

It was nearly dusk by the time the patrol, with ten male prisoners in custody, returned to the fort. As much as he hated to admit it, Rafe found himself looking forward to seeing how Karissa had fared during the day. If nothing else, he kept his wits sharpened by associating with her. Just so long as he didn’t get lost in the hypnotic depth of those mesmerizing green eyes and allowed his attention to drift to the lush curve of her lips.