Read River to Cross, A for Free Online Page B

reached into the back of her mind, and switched the memories off. After three years, she was getting pretty good at that, at turning off what she didn’t want to remember.
    She glanced at Jake uneasily. He’s a Texas Ranger .
    Carl had called Rangers—criticized them, really—as being shock troops. Their initial response to an Indian attack was overwhelming firepower delivered at full gallop. Speed, surprise, violence—an “annihilation charge,” they called it.
    And she bit him.
    She didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or get up and run.
    Firmly she cleared the huskiness from her voice. “Where are you from, Captain?”
    “Up near Oklahoma, little town called Burkburnett.”
    His cheeks puffed the b ’s, his words leaning lazily on each other. Typical Texas twang, she thought.
    She straightened her shoulders and wrestled the corners of her mouth into a smile.
    Be nice. Talk to the man.
    She held her hands out and waggled her fingers. “They’re like sticks. They don’t bend right.” She swallowed and looked up. “I’m sorry to ask you. I know you don’t want to do this.”
    His hand closed around her wrist and led her into the sunlight streaming through the branches, where he could see the green dress better. Frowning, he pinched a tiny button in his fingers and gave a soft snort through his nose.
    “No wonder you can’t unbutton them. They’re like baby teeth!” He pinched and pulled. A piece of green thread and a white button dangled from his fingers.
    He rubbed his nose back and forth. “Looks like I broke it.”
    Lips pursed, Elizabeth looked down at her front and the fifteen other tiny buttons that went down to her waist. “This isn’t going to work, Captain. We’ll be here all day. Your fingers are like sausages.”
    “Thanks for the compliment, but if we want to stay alive, we haven’t got all day. So stand still and stop your yapping.” He stooped on the balls of his feet in front of her, his eyes narrowed, intense, looking almost silver in the light.
    Evidently this determined man did exactly what he put his mind to. And if she didn’t like it, too bad.
    In ten minutes he had her unbuttoned and holding her arms up while he lifted the green silk dress over her head. Then he removed the two petticoats. Finally, heat sliding down her neck, she stood before him, bare-armed, in her chemise and pantaloons.
    She was uncomfortable and embarrassed and angry at herself for being either. She looked up at him helplessly and started to giggle. “I am mortified. Don’t you say a word. Not one word, you hear?”
    He smiled. “I’ve seen ladies in pantaloons before.”
    “Oh, of course. You’re married?”
    “No.”
    “Sorry, Captain, I shouldn’t have asked.”
    “My name’s Jake.” He glanced up at her. “How long have you been married?”
    “I’m a widow. My husband was Carl Evans, a lieutenant in the Seventh Cavalry. He was killed in a Comanche raid three years ago.” She looked away.
    “I surely am sorry to hear that.” His face was serious, his voice gentle. “I assumed you were married when I saw the ring.”
    “Wearing it eliminates a lot of questions, especially when traveling alone. A wedding ring keeps unwanted contacts away. Most men leave a married woman alone.”
    He held open the brown denim pants and a soft red flannel shirt he’d brought her from Fort Bliss.
    “Come on, Lizzy, let’s put your britches on.” He cocked his head at her. “Anyone ever call you that?”
    “No,” she said, and burst out laughing. She stepped into the trousers and shrugged on the shirt, watching while he pulled the waistband out and stuffed the shirttail in all around.
    Soon she was dressed, her feet laced into riding boots two sizes too big. Quickly she pulled her hair back, braided it into a loose pigtail, and he stuffed it up under a cowboy hat.
    “Thank you,” she said. “Though you won’t admit it, underneath all that gruff officer persona, I suspect you’re rather