By Brennen H. J.
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McCracken let his chair come down on four legs, and planted his elbows solidly on the scarred wood desk top. " "I understand," the major said. " Having heard his remark, McCracken continued: "The talk is he's jealous, sir. They're sayin' his wife's been seen with one of the officers. " "Why," McCracken said innocently, "I couldn't say, Major. " Major Cole grunted and walked forward to the open front door. He looked at the dusty parade ground. There was only one officer in his command who could get this kind of mouth-shut loyalty from McCracken; that officer was Captain Justin Harris, of C Company.
Her words, though softly spoken, had bite in them: "You didn't seem to feel the same way a few months ago, Will. " "You and I were careful," Brady said. " "And that makes everything right," she answered. He ignored the edge to her words. " She leaned forward, suddenly tense, suddenly dead serious. "Will, you and I were washed up months ago. You were the one who said so. " But her eyes behed the hard crust of her words; her eyes were too bright—the beginning glisten of tears. She stood, turned away, and walked across the room to the small window cut into the adobe-plaster wall; she snatched the curtains aside and leaned forward, arais braced against the sill.
Hard, bright anger continued to course through his veins and he knew better than to try to sleep.