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.A crowd of laundresses flocked to RuthAnne and Dolly, shuttling them deeper into the crowd.The officers and their wives went back to kicking up their heels.The incident passed; the party was ceremonious and gay once more.Clara watched in dismay, but allowed Marcus to guide her off the dance floor and into the waiting care of his father.Edgar Carington stood at the edge of the dance floor, having come late to the event.“Did your meeting run long in town, Father? Maybe now you’ll finally understand what you’ve put her through.I doubt you even care,” Marcus growled low.“It’s not your place to tell me, boy.” Edgar straightened his collar.Marcus shook his head and walked away.“Edgar, don’t be so hard on him.He’s going to be a general someday.Mark my words.” But she was tired and leaned into her husband.She ignored the smear of rouge on her husband’s coat.She also ignored the scent of cheap perfume that permeated his clothes.“Come along, Clara.I’ll take you home.” He guided her to the door, and they stepped into the darkness.Chapter 37Father Acuña smiled as he hugged Mara.“You’ll be better off here with your sister, my dear.”“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, Father.” Gratitude filled her sweet face.The dance was over.Crowds of partygoers dispersed, either in search of more lively entertainment or back to the comforts of their bunks.The dry desert air was perfect for viewing the Milky Way, brightening the night with its canopy of stars.Bowen stood beside RuthAnne, his large, rough hand curled around hers.Unabashed at showing her his affections, finally.Mara’s eyebrow shot up in question.“What have you been up to, Ruthie?” Mara’s laugh was like the tinkling of bells in RuthAnne’s ear.“Living, Mara.I’ve been getting on with the business of living.”“Well, hallelujah!” She threw her arms around Bowen’s shoulders.“Can I call you brother yet? Or is it a bit early for that?”Bowen laughed heartily.“You can call me whatever you like.”“Well, thank you for saving my life, Brother Bowen.” She hugged him in earnest as Whit and Dolly joined the group.“With the dance dispersing and all, I thought we might continue this party at the store.” Whit had his arm hooked in Dolly’s.“Seems the future Mrs.Baker here has some ideas on how the post store can better serve our feminine clientele.She wants to share them with you all.”“The MacEvoys are staying overnight, so you all might as well come along, too.” Dolly looked in seventh heaven.Pleasure for her friend bloomed in RuthAnne’s heart.Dolly had found her match in Whit Baker.A familiar set of shadows caught her eye, distracting her as they crossed the compound; they hesitated a moment then retreated toward the stables.“You all go on ahead.I just need to say a quick thank you.The Carington children have done so much for us.It’s hard to have your family’s faults laid out for the world to see.““Do you want me to come with you?” Dolly asked, obviously not that interested in going.Her eyes were only for her future husband.“Not at all.You go on and start the party.” RuthAnne swept them on ahead of her with a light smile and a wave.Bowen blocked her retreat.“I know that look by now.You’re up to something.”“I’ll be along directly.Mara, would you please take care of him for me?”“Better hurry back before I disclose all of your darkest secrets.” Mara hooked her arm into Bowen’s, giving him a huge smile.The small group proceeded to the post store.RuthAnne hitched up her skirts and followed the shadow that now skulked around the corner toward the stable yard.Light bloomed through the lattice adobe wall, painting the ground with the glow of the kerosene lanterns beyond.She struggled to adjust to the inky black darkness.“Hello? Amanda?” she called, certain she had seen the girl walk this way.What was she doing alone at the stables?“Not Amanda.Her brother.” Marcus’ voice was in her ear.RuthAnne jumped a mile, then put a hand to her breast, laughing.“You gave me a fright.I thought I saw your sister.”“We were taking a walk.I just sent her on home to look after Megan.It’s been a long night.For all of us.” Marcus struck a match against the adobe building and lit a cigar.The tip glowed hot and orange.Gray, pungent smoke swirled around his head as he puffed.“I’m sorry about this evening.People aren’t always what we want them to be,” RuthAnne said gently, and Marcus stiffened visibly.“The older you get, the less you’d think it would matter.That your father was a cheat, your mother needs drugs to get through the day.” He shook his head, stepping out of the shadows and into the starlight.A slight smile was on his face, but his eyes were cold.Worry stabbed her heart.“But, if you take a step back, you see it’s always been this way.And it explains quite a bit, really.After all, they are the ones who molded me into exactly what I am.”“And what are you, Marcus?” RuthAnne watched him warily, uncertain where this conversation was going.Her stomach tightened.He smiled coldly.“An opportunist, I suppose.”“You’re an officer in the United States Cavalry.That means something, doesn’t it?” She stepped back as he moved closer.“It means that my father is in a position of power.My mother has her hands into politician’s pockets and has been guiding my career.She wants me to be a general.” He spat out the words with disdain.“And what do you want?” She backed deeper into the stable compound as he edged toward her, cat-and-mouse.“Power.Prestige.Money.Love?” His smile turned into a sneer as he backed her into a corner.One more step, and she found there was nowhere to go.The gritty adobe brick wall met her shoulders.The tack room was to her right, the stable catty-cornered across the open ground.She could no longer see the lights at the post store across the parade ground.They were completely alone.Unless Alex had returned to the stables instead of going to the bunkhouse after the dance? She looked about, but the tack room doorway was dim.Black shadows reached their greedy fingers, making her remember the cave.The walls that seemed to close in around her.Unease gave way to fear, bordering on panic.RuthAnne found it hard to breathe.Her heart pounded in her ears.“Those are all noble things, if sought after in a decent way.” She gulped, buying time.A pitchfork leaned against the corner, just out of reach.She took a side step toward it as he pressed closer to her.Her nose wrinkled with the bitter aroma of whiskey on his breath.His gaze leveled upon her, brimming over with lust as he unashamedly eyed her open neckline.She fought back as his hands roughly explored the lines of her body.Shuddering with outright revulsion, she pulled away as much as possible.The pitchfork tines gleamed in the low light.RuthAnne took another cautious step closer.“What about you, RuthAnne? Could you love a man like me?”Praying for inner strength, she opened her eyes and found words around the lump of fear in her throat.“You’re stronger than I am.You could take whatever you wanted from me, physically.But you’ll never have my soul
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