Page 16 of At Love’s Command

She forfeited her pretentious posture and offered a conciliatory smile. “I’m sure it will be taxing for someone of your active nature, but I promise it will pay dividends in the end.”

“I’ll see he doesn’t overdo it.” Matthew Hanger’s blunt statement should have spoiled the lighthearted mood Mr. Wallace’s colorful commentary had created, but it only made Josephine’s smile widen.

“Thank you, Mr. Hanger.” She nodded at him, then moved toward the door. “I have full confidence that you will execute your duties with the greatest diligence.” She paused at the doorway. “I’ll have Alice bring you both some breakfast before she leaves for the day. Eggs and hash sound all right?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mr. Wallace’s enthusiastic agreement echoed behind her, but Josephine’s gaze remained on the man standing at attention near the door.

The slight dip of the captain’s chin was answer enough, and oddly more satisfying than the exuberance of his friend.

Suddenly hungry herself, Josephine left the infirmary to check on Alice in the kitchen.

Matt finished his coffee, then tipped his chair back on two legs until his head banged softly against the wall. He needed to get out of here. Soon. Before that woman got any further under his skin. The kid wasn’t helping any by planting crazy ideas in his head about the Horsemen retiring, and worse yet, about how Miss Josephine Burkett might actually prefer a more mature, stoic fellow to the smooth-tongued young charmer.

Not that Wallace was all flash and no depth. The kid was as loyal as they came to the people he committed himself to. He just preferred to keep most folks at a distance to avoid the pain that came from getting too close. Matt understood that. Lived that way himself. Just carried a different shield. Wallace wielded a golden shield of light and shine. Matt carried one of iron, heavy and impenetrable. Or so he thought. Until a certain lady doctor started chiseling cracks into it.

The sound of the clinic’s front door opening yanked Matt back to the present. He lowered the chair’s legs back to the floor, pushed to his feet, and stepped through the open infirmary door into the hall. Out of habit, his hand hovered over his hip until he recalled that his gun belt was stored under the bed with the rest of the weaponry.

“Hello?” A familiar voice echoed down the hall, bringing a smile to Matt’s face. “This Dr. Joe’s place?”

Matt marched toward his corporal and nearly collided with Miss Josephine when she stepped out of her examination room.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

Preach tugged his hat from his head and smiled politely as he stepped inside. Behind him, Jonah removed his hat as well, but his face wore the same weighty expression it always did in a new place, as if he expected to encounter enemies instead of friends. Though, as much as Matt wished it otherwise, as a black man in Texas, Jonah probably had the odds figured correctly.

“They’re looking for me,” Matt said. “For Wallace, really.” He felt a smile tug on his mouth as pride for his men expanded his chest. “Dr. Josephine Burkett, meet the rest of the Horsemen.”

“Doctor?” Preach’s brows rose, but he recovered quickly and tipped his head in a small bow. “Luke Davenport, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

Josephine’s lips quirked. “Luke? You’re kidding, right?”

Preach shot a confused look at Matt before turning back to the doctor. “No, ma’am. That’s my name.”

“Matthew, Mark, Luke, and . . .” She turned an expectant look at the fourth man.

“Jonah. Jonah Brooks.” The former buffalo soldier dared her to comment with his gaze.

Josephine, being Josephine, did just that. But not in the way Matt expected. “Well, that’s a relief. For a minute there I thought you were going to say Thessalonians. How wonderful to have the Old Testament represented, Mr. Brooks.”

Jonah blinked. Apparently not the response he’d expected either.

Matt had lost count of the number of people they’d met after forming the Horsemen who tried to tease the sharpshooter into shortening his name to Jon. They all thought themselves quite clever. Jonah, however, found them insulting. A man owned his name. His identity. To suggest he change it to suit another’s whim smacked a little too much of one man trying to own another for Jonah to see the humor in it.

Brooks offered Josephine a small nod, then blurted, “How’s Wallace?”

“Come back here and find out yourself,” Mark called from the infirmary, bringing a grin to Preach’s face and a soft chuckle from the doctor.

“As you can hear, he’s doing quite well,” she said.

But the impatient patient wasn’t finished. “You know, it’s rude to talk about a fellow behind his back.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “We’re in front of you, Wallace.”

Preach slapped Matt on the back and charged down the hall.

“You’re welcome to visit,” Josephine called after him, “but don’t wear him out.” She turned to Matt, but he knew his orders.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”