Her Hesitant Heart by Carla Kelly Page A

you change a subject,” he joked. “Ihave a small pig in the hospital which I will gladly loan you for cold nights, and yes, I have an egg source, officially listed in my supplies as medicinal. As for teaching ladies to read, bravo.”
    He was quiet then as they strolled along. She could tell how tired he was. “When did you last sleep, Major?” she asked.
    “Two days ago, I think.”
    “I can meet my students tomorrow afternoon,” she offered.
    “Tomorrow there will be some other crisis,” he told her, pointing to the adobe house on the end of Officers Row. “Let’s begin here.”
    “There really isn’t any point in arguing with you, is there?”
    “None whatever.”
    It was dark by the time they finished the visits. It amused her to see eagerness on some faces and discontent on others, who probably saw her as a spoilsport ruining their idyllic existence.
    “
I
would be upset if Mrs. Hopkins showed up, ready to confine me to a classroom, when there is a fort full of swearing men, tales of scalps being lifted, and the promise of riding with Papa on campaign,” she told him as they neared the last house.
    “There will be Nick Martin in the back row with his gallows smile,” the major said. “A daunting prospect.” He stopped then. “Speaking of daunting prospects, here we are at Chez Dunklin. I saved the worst for last.”
    Susanna felt her heart thump harder. “I hope Mrs. Dunklin takes no interest in Shippensburg gossip.”
    “We’ll know soon.”
    The Dunklin quarters were overheated like all the others, but with heavy, dark furniture. Obviously not for the Dunklins were packing crate settees, which Susanna found charming, or light folding chairs, easy to move to the next garrison. The Dunklins seemed to be doing their best to bring Pennsylvania to the West.
    To her relief, Captain Dunklin dominated the conversation in his own parlor, as he had attempted in the ambulance from Cheyenne. He complained of headache, which Major Randolph assured him was the principal symptom of erobitis.
    “It will run its course by tomorrow afternoon,” the post surgeon said with a straight face. “Here is your scholar. Bobby Dunklin, Mrs. Hopkins has so much to teach you.”
    Bobby scowled. Susanna decided to seat Nick Martin directly behind him, starting Monday. She glanced at Mrs. Dunklin, aware that Bobby must have inherited his scowl from her. Goose bumps marched in ranks down Susanna’s back as she chattered to an unwilling Bobby about school. “I’d rather ride my horse,” he said.
    “Just think, Bobby,” Susanna said “While you’re waiting for spring, you can learn a few things.”
    She felt Mrs. Dunklin’s eyes boring into her back.
Can we leave?
she pleaded silently to thepost surgeon, wishing Major Randolph was susceptible to thought waves.
    As the post surgeon started eyeing the door himself, Mrs. Dunklin stood up suddenly. “We’re so pleased you are here to lead our children into knowledge,” the woman said, sounding every bit as pompous as her husband. Then she frowned. “It’s going to drive me distracted until I remember why your name sticks in my mind, Mrs. Hopkins. I’ll figure it out.”
    “Is it too much to hope that Captain Dunklin be transferred before Monday morning?” Susanna asked as they walked toward the Reeses’ quarters.
    He said good-night on the porch. “If you’re serious about an omelet at the Rattigans’ tomorrow morning, I’ll stop by at five-thirty to escort you. With eggs, of course.”
    She laughed softly. “Major, I never joke about omelets, or the weightier matters of our society. I’ll be ready.” She relished the sound of his own quiet laughter as he tipped his hat to her and continued on down the row.
    Susanna was ready at five-thirty, waiting for the post surgeon’s knock on the door.
    When it came, she opened the door to Nick Martin, who held out a note to her. “‘Nick’s your escort this morning,’” she read, after ushering him inside out