Only in My Arms Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jo Goodman
wondering if he could believe her. Nothing to do with his sun-bronzed skin, straight inky hair, or the gun belt he wore low on his hips. Ryder reached in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out an envelope. It was wrinkled and dog-eared. There were a few smudged fingerprints on the back. He opened it carefully and took out the contents. The letter was two pages long, front and back. It had been handled with more care than the envelope. He held it out to Mary.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," she said.
"Take it."
Mary pulled her hands out of the water, shook them off, and wiped them on a towel. She took the letter Ryder held in front of her. "This isn't necessary."
"Read it."
She had only taken note of Walker's handwriting once before, at the occasion of her sister's wedding when he'd signed his name to the marriage papers. Mary quickly turned the pages, and her eyes flickered to his signature. She would recognize the scrawled and sweeping lines of his "W" anywhere. Having established the letter was really from her brother-in-law, Mary went back to the beginning and read it through carefully.
Most of the letter was about Skye, about the hasty marriage, and the circumstances that had brought Walker to the Granville mansion. There was anecdotal information about Skye's family and descriptions which brought a smile to Mary's lips. Walker certainly had them all dead to rights. The letter concluded with an invitation for Ryder to visit Walker and Skye whenever he wanted. "Walker didn't know yet about his assignment to China," she said, returning the letter to Ryder. "He's been there and back and gone again."
"He didn't know when I would take him up on it," Ryder replied. "I haven't been much good about writing back myself."
"It was a rather nonspecific invitation."
"He meant it."
"I know that. Walker didn't make the offer to be polite. That certainly isn't his way." Mary was able to see the envelope clearly as Ryder replaced Walker's letter. "Is that where you came from?" she asked somewhat incredulously. "Fort Preston in the Arizona Territory?"
"That's where I was when I got the letter. I came from Fort Apache."
"You traveled over most of the country to see Walker without ever thinking to check if he was here?"
"There's no need to be scornful," he said evenly. "Or have I given you the impression I'm a stupid man?"
No, she thought, that wasn't her impression at all. "Quite the opposite," she said.
He folded the envelope and put it away. There was a gravity to his voice that hadn't been there before. "I came East to pay my respects to a teacher who died recently. I missed the funeral the military gave him, but I spoke to his widow and made my peace. That was what was important to me."
Mary saw that it was. The cleanly defined lines of his face were still impassive, but there was a certain solemnness about his eyes. "An instructor at West Point?" she asked, beginning to piece things together in her own mind.
He nodded. "General Augustus Sampson Thorn."
It was an impressive sounding name but one with which Mary was unfamiliar. "I don't believe I know of him."
"A veteran of battles at Shiloh and Manassas and some of the early Western campaigns against the Cheyenne. It's all right," he added when she continued to shake her head slowly in nonrecognition. "He would have rather been remembered for his career as a teacher."
"What was his subject?"
"Mathematics."
Once again she was disconcerted by his ability to surprise her. "This was a subject you liked?"
"Very much so."
"I see," she said, wondering what to make of him.
He almost smiled then. "No," he said. "You don't see at all."
Mary noted that he didn't seem bothered by the fact, which meant that he didn't care for her opinion one way or the other. She supposed that was as it should be. They were virtual strangers in spite of a common acquaintance and a perfunctory exchange of names.
Mary finished up the last of the dishes while Ryder stood by. "When do
"You don't have to prove anything to me," she said.
"Take it."
Mary pulled her hands out of the water, shook them off, and wiped them on a towel. She took the letter Ryder held in front of her. "This isn't necessary."
"Read it."
She had only taken note of Walker's handwriting once before, at the occasion of her sister's wedding when he'd signed his name to the marriage papers. Mary quickly turned the pages, and her eyes flickered to his signature. She would recognize the scrawled and sweeping lines of his "W" anywhere. Having established the letter was really from her brother-in-law, Mary went back to the beginning and read it through carefully.
Most of the letter was about Skye, about the hasty marriage, and the circumstances that had brought Walker to the Granville mansion. There was anecdotal information about Skye's family and descriptions which brought a smile to Mary's lips. Walker certainly had them all dead to rights. The letter concluded with an invitation for Ryder to visit Walker and Skye whenever he wanted. "Walker didn't know yet about his assignment to China," she said, returning the letter to Ryder. "He's been there and back and gone again."
"He didn't know when I would take him up on it," Ryder replied. "I haven't been much good about writing back myself."
"It was a rather nonspecific invitation."
"He meant it."
"I know that. Walker didn't make the offer to be polite. That certainly isn't his way." Mary was able to see the envelope clearly as Ryder replaced Walker's letter. "Is that where you came from?" she asked somewhat incredulously. "Fort Preston in the Arizona Territory?"
"That's where I was when I got the letter. I came from Fort Apache."
"You traveled over most of the country to see Walker without ever thinking to check if he was here?"
"There's no need to be scornful," he said evenly. "Or have I given you the impression I'm a stupid man?"
No, she thought, that wasn't her impression at all. "Quite the opposite," she said.
He folded the envelope and put it away. There was a gravity to his voice that hadn't been there before. "I came East to pay my respects to a teacher who died recently. I missed the funeral the military gave him, but I spoke to his widow and made my peace. That was what was important to me."
Mary saw that it was. The cleanly defined lines of his face were still impassive, but there was a certain solemnness about his eyes. "An instructor at West Point?" she asked, beginning to piece things together in her own mind.
He nodded. "General Augustus Sampson Thorn."
It was an impressive sounding name but one with which Mary was unfamiliar. "I don't believe I know of him."
"A veteran of battles at Shiloh and Manassas and some of the early Western campaigns against the Cheyenne. It's all right," he added when she continued to shake her head slowly in nonrecognition. "He would have rather been remembered for his career as a teacher."
"What was his subject?"
"Mathematics."
Once again she was disconcerted by his ability to surprise her. "This was a subject you liked?"
"Very much so."
"I see," she said, wondering what to make of him.
He almost smiled then. "No," he said. "You don't see at all."
Mary noted that he didn't seem bothered by the fact, which meant that he didn't care for her opinion one way or the other. She supposed that was as it should be. They were virtual strangers in spite of a common acquaintance and a perfunctory exchange of names.
Mary finished up the last of the dishes while Ryder stood by. "When do