Free The Unlikely Wife by Cassandra Austin

well.”
    “And what will be your excuse to continue in the pants?”
    “I’ll be riding horseback. Oh, here comes dinner. I’ll get your mother.” She rose quickly and went to the wagon, not wanting to be left alone at the table if Alicia ran the errand. She coaxed her aunt out and walked back to the table with her, grateful that Brooks left a moment after she arrived.
    * * *
    Clark finished the dinner his striker had brought and moved the dishes to the corner of his field desk. As he opened the box that held his journal, he heard the first smattering of raindrops on the roof of the tent. The flap was propped up with poles forming an awning over the open doorway and letting in the fresh scent of rain.
    Under the journal was the leather-bound case his cousin had given him. His fingers caressed it for a second, then he set the journal aside and lifted the case from the box. At his desk, he opened it.
    The hand-carved chess set had belonged to his uncle. He hadn’t seen it for years. “You were the only one who ever beat him,” his cousin had said. “He wanted you to have it.”
    So he had taken the set and thanked his cousin. With the funeral, the train, and now the Indian uprising, he had nearly forgotten he had it.
    The striker appeared at his door, shaking rain from his hat.
    “Come in, Powers.” Clark nodded toward the dishes. “These could have waited until morning.”
    “I wanted to see if you needed anything else, sir. Besides, I’ve been hot and dry so long I hardly mind the rain.”
    At that moment, the sprinkle turned into a downpour, sending torrents of rain against the roof and back wall of the tent “That’s good,” Clark said, “because it sounds like you’re going to get wet”
    “May I come in?” a female voice called above the roar.
    Clark turned toward the doorway. Miss Huntington had obviously been caught in the deluge. She was soaked from head to foot, her hat drooping with the weight of the rain. Her face, when she removed the hat, bore its usual sunny smile.
    Clark stood. “Mr. Powers, fetch a blanket from my cot,” he said with a glance at the man. “You should be in your wagon, Miss Huntington.”
    “It’s a little late now.” She shook out the hat and set it on the ground just inside the tent As Powers brought the blanket she shook her head, sending tiny drops of water flying off the tips of her curls. “I’ll get your blanket wet”
    “I have another,” he said. “Did you need something, Miss Huntington?”
    She let Powers wrap the blanket around her shoulders, offering him a soft, “Thank you,” and a smile. “As a matter of fact, I have a question.” She moved toward him. “Do you play chess?”
    “You risked drowning to ask me that?”
    She laughed. “Of course not What a lovely set” She lifted a knight from the case on his desk. “My question has to do with Aunt Belle and Indians. Do you play?”
    “Yes. Aunt Belle and Indians?” Clark was aware of Powers’ curiosity. He was also aware of the danger of being alone with this woman. News of that wouldtravel as quickly and do more damage than any gossip Powers might spread about their conversation.
    “Aunt Belle wants to know if you think there are Indians watching us.” She put the knight back and picked up a bishop. “Aren’t these hand carved?”
    “Yes. No.” He shook his head. This woman could confuse him like no other. “No Indians are watching us, and yes, they’re hand carved.”
    “Shall we play a game while I wait for the rain to let up?”
    Clark opened his mouth to mention that the rain might not let up before morning. He was afraid that wouldn’t deter her. “All right.”
    Powers stepped forward with another folding chair for Miss Huntington, and in a moment she was seated across the desk from Clark. Powers reached for the dishes. “If there’s nothing else…”
    “Have you had your own dinner, Mr. Powers?” Clark asked.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Then have a