The miners jumped with surprise.
“Is the lass really yer wife?” one red-haired man with a heavy Irish brogue asked, completely unfazed by the gunshot.
“Yes, I’m his wife. So, go away.”
That got Rafe’s attention — Helen agreeing to be his wife. He wondered if her eyes were rolling with horror at such an admission, and couldn’t resist checking.
Nope, her eyes stared straight ahead, murderously. And he was the target.
“Are you still here? I thought you’d left town already. Hiked on back to the landing site and Colonel Sanders.”
“Stop being sarcastic.”
“Stop talking. I’m in a bad mood, and you’re giving me a headache.”
“Ooooh, I’d like to… to… to…”
“Lost for words, Prissy?”
She gritted out, “You’re not going to abandon me, Rafe.”
Her voice droned on shrewishly, but Rafe tuned her out.
“… and I know what you’re up to here.” She was still babbling on… blah, blah, blah… unaware that he wasn’t listening. “You figure if you start an argument with me, that gives you an excuse to just walk off with no regrets.”
“Listen to yourself sometime, Helen. First, you claim I seduced you so you’d follow me. Now you say I’m deliberately trying to get rid of you. Make up your mind.”
“Well… well, you’re not leaving me here alone, I’ll tell you that.”
“Alone?” he scoffed. “Look around you. There’s about a hundred men willing to take my place. And every one of them would like to get in a good ‘tickle.’ ”
“Stop being an ass.”
“Stop being a shrew.”
“I’m sick of your teasing. I’m sick of your sexual advances. I’m sick of your crudity. I’m — ”
“So, Helen, why don’t you tell me how you really feel.” Lord, if he wasn’t half-hard for the woman all the time, if his heart didn’t ache sometimes when he looked at her, well, her waspish nature sure would turn him off.
“I swear, when we get back, you are going to be court-martialed for insubordination. More than anything, Captain, I am sick of your total lack of regard for military conduct.”
“And I’m sick of your trying to pull rank every other minute. This is the nineteenth century, and you are not in the Army anymore, babe. The only rules here are those between a man and woman. Did you hear me? Male and female.”
“Oh, here we go again with the sex stuff!”
“You bet your sweet ass. Damn it, why don’t you be honest with yourself, Prissy? The only reason you’re so mad at me is ’cause we didn’t do the deed last night. Frustration, that’s what this is all about, pure and simple.”
Bright red color blossomed on her cheeks. Then she swung her arm in a wide arc, slugging him in the stomach. “I’m going to kill you. I swear I am. You lowdown, egotistical, male chauvinist horse’s patoot.”
He saw her attack coming and managed to step back slightly. The punch hardly hurt at all, but he winced, anyhow, just to make her feel guilty. “What do military rules say about an officer striking a soldier? Or using language unbecoming to an officer? Sounds like court-martial grounds to me. Hey, maybe we could get court-martialed together.”
Through the storm of Helen’s rage and his quick rejoinders, he realized they still had an audience.
“The two wee angles mus’ be havin’ a lovers’ quarrel,” the Irishman was explaining to the miners around him.
“Is it true she’s Elena?” one man asked.
Several others gave resounding shouts of “Yes.”
“Mebbe she and her husban’ will go thar separate ways since they don’t hardly seem ta be gettin’ along. Mebbe she’ll set up her own corkscrew tent here in Sacramenty. Mebbe she’ll — ”
Helen grunted with disgust, muttering, “E-nough!” Spinning on her heel, she whistled loudly between her teeth to gain their silence.
Rafe’s headache bloomed into a class two ear ringer.
“I’m going to say this just once, real slow. So, listen carefully, you thick-headed fools. I… am… Helen… Prescott. Major… Helen… Prescott. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a prostitute. I have no idea what a corkscrew is. So, I can’t say for sure if I’ve ever done it, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t. I am not interested in finding another man. The one I have now is more than I can handle.”