Free Summer of Promise by Amanda Cabot

woman.
    “All right,” Ethan agreed, “as long as you understand there’s nothing romantic about it.”
    “Of course not.” Jeffrey flashed him a triumphant grin. “Your heart is safe.”

     
    “You are the luckiest man alive.” Without waiting for an invitation, Oliver settled himself in one of the chairs in Ethan’s room and stretched his legs out before him.
    Ethan stopped polishing his boots long enough to frown. “A lucky man wouldn’t have to worry about his men deserting.” Though the men had completed what he referred to as the canine detail without too much complaining, he couldn’t forget how disgruntled they’d been at the thought of chasing packs of dogs, nor could he forget that two of his men had deserted last week. They were the reason he’d gone to Cheyenne.
    “You need to stop worrying about them. If Captain Westland wanted you to worry about them, he wouldn’t have assigned you to take care of the stray dogs.”
    And wasn’t that a sorry state of affairs—rounding up dogs rather than deserters? While the captain’s assertion that the desertion rate was far lower than it had been a year ago was accurate, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about Johann Schiller and the other man and wondering whether some of the soldiers under his command would be joining them. Schiller had deserted only a week after Ethan had arrived at Fort Laramie, but during that time he’d observed that the man was well-regarded by the others. Had his discontent poisoned them? Perhaps he had been in contact with Wessen and Kelly, the men who’d left last week, and that was the reason they had gone over the hill. If so, it was possible that others were getting ready to leave. It would be bad enough if there were more deserters, even worse if they started robbing stagecoaches.
    Oliver rubbed his nose, a sure sign that he was excited. “Forget the deserters. What’s important is that you’re going to see Miss Harding twice a day, every day. I’d give anything to be in your boots.”
    Giving the boots in question a final buff, Ethan managed a grin. “The food will be better than our usual fare,” he conceded.
    “Food? Who cares about food? As long as it’s not mushrooms, I’ll eat anything. What I want is a wife.”
    “I hate to disappoint you, but if you’re considering Miss Harding for that position, I hear she’s practically engaged to some professor back home.”
    Oliver grimaced. “You just found something that turns my stomach more than mushrooms.” Oliver clutched his midriff, feigning gastric distress. Then a smile split his face. “You said ‘practically,’ didn’t you?” When Ethan nodded, Oliver’s smile widened. “That means there’s hope. If the man was foolish enough to let Miss Harding come all this way without him, he can’t love her as much as I do.”
    “You haven’t even met her.”
    Oliver would not be discouraged. “The moment I saw her, I knew she was the woman for me. Now all I need to do is figure out a way to afford a wife. Miss Harding deserves more than a second lieutenant’s pay.” Oliver leaned back and closed his eyes, as if the lack of visual distractions would improve his cogitation. “There’s got to be a way.”
    And there had to be a way to improve morale enough that men wouldn’t want to desert.

     
    Ethan placed his soup spoon carefully on the plate and smiled at his hostess. There was no doubt about it. The food at the Crowley residence was far superior to that served to bachelor officers. As for the enlisted men’s fare—the best that could be said about their rations was that a soldier didn’t starve. But here a man didn’t simply eat; he dined. Since the day was cooler than normal for June, Mrs. Channing had prepared a thick, creamy soup and served it with freshly baked bread. Delicious. The only thing that marred the meal was Mrs. Channing’s frequent frowns, all of which seemed to be attributable to the puppy, whose barks made it clear he was