by Ana Morgan
Stormy collapsed, and Sultan plowed into her limp body.
Dear God, what have I done?
Chapter 15
Blade kicked Belinda into a high-speed dash down the hill. He leaped off her back and raised the carbine like a club. He’d beat Sultan to death or die trying.
The beast twitched like a dreaming hound, but it was dead. The bullet had taken out one of its eyes. Bloody goo dripped from the hollow socket.
Stormy lay cheek down in the grass, legs buried under Sultan’s jaw and neck. She wasn’t breathing.
Unsure how he would go on living, Blade knelt beside her. His hand trembled as he brushed her hair off her shoulders, but he had to witness what he’d done, understand why she was dead even if the memory—and the guilt—drove him to madness.
No blood seeped through her shirt. Or pooled close by on the ground. His heart pounded with hope.
Near the toe of his boot, her fingers flexed. Her eyelids fluttered. She opened and closed her mouth like an out-of-water goldfish until she gulped a deep breath.
She’d had the wind knocked out of her.
Babbling her name like a crazy man, he ran his hands over her arms and back, feeling for broken bones. Finding none, he grabbed Sultan’s horns and wrenched its ugly head off her legs. Gingerly, he checked her knees and ankles.
“Sultan?” Stormy’s voice was weak and shaky.
“Sultan’s dead, sweetheart.” He sat and scooped her onto his lap. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
“I don’t think so.” A sob shook her body. “I was so scared.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as he rocked her. He thanked every star in the sky that she was alive and unharmed. And, his.
When she stilled, he tipped up her chin and gazed into the world’s most beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, Stormy Hawkins."
Her face lit up. “You do?"
“I do, and I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you again.” He leaned back and pried the ring from his jeans pocket. “Marry me.”
She looked at him as if she didn’t understand the words. “Like a wedding marry?”
He knew why: she’d been conditioned to think she was undesirable. He silently pledged to tell her how wonderful she was every day of their lives. “Yes, sweetheart. Preacher, cake, rice, and a bouquet. Everything you’ve ever wanted and more.”
“Oh, Blade.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Yes, oh yes. I’ll marry you. But, we can’t waste rice. Running Bear will have a fit.”
Laughing, he reached for her hand and slid his ring onto her finger. The band was loose, as he’d expected—Candy had big hands—but Stormy didn’t act like she minded. She raised her lips to meet his.
~ ~ ~
To Stormy, the ride home on Belinda was everything the first one wasn’t. Blade held her close and confessed he’d pushed her forward the first time to hide the swell of his johnson.
She laughed. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“And, I thought you were promised to Vance.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “I’m glad we straightened that out.”
So many thoughts swirled in her head. She seized one. “What kind of wedding do you want?”
He answered immediately. “A big one. As soon as possible.”
“Will your parents come? I’d like to meet them. My fathers would, too.”
Blade didn’t answer. Belinda and Odin’s hooves swished through the grass. Belinda’s leather saddle creaked. Finally, he said, “Prosperity is a long way from St. Louis. They’re not the kind of folks who like to rough it.”
“I think we should invite them. If they come, they come. If they don’t, they don’t. What about Albert Schultz? He’s going to be mad about Sultan.”
“Stormy, that damn bull nearly killed you. Albert can skin his sorry carcass and thank us for ridding the world of a menace.”
“I’m not sure he will. He struggles to pay his monthly bills at the general store.”
Blade blew out a sharp breath. “You sound like my father. Everything boils down to money.”
“It’s what brought us together. To pay off our loan this fall, we needed help with the fence. If not for that, I’d have shot a hole through your Stetson and sent you on your way.”
“Oh really?” Using his chin, he swept back her hair and nuzzled her ear. “You didn’t think I might be good for other things?”
Feeling deliciously wild and wanton, she reached behind her and stroked the flap of his jeans. “Are you saying you want to interview for a bedroom position?”
He extracted her hand and pinned it snugly around her waist. “I was thinking we could get naked and take a bath together. After I ask Zed’s permission to marry you.”
“Brownie considers me his child, too. You better ask for his blessing, or you won’t get much to eat. And, don’t forget Running Bear. Promise?”
She pounded his thigh like a drum and giggled until he shouted, “I promise.”
“Good. Now that you’re family, there’s something you should know. Running Bear’s wife is buried next to my mother under the big black-walnut tree. We don’t talk about it much. Some people still think Ojibwa shouldn’t be buried next to whites.” She turned her head. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Hell no. I’ll bare-knuckle fight anyone who says otherwise.”
~ ~ ~
Stormy was still talking as they rode into the ranch yard. She seemed recovered from Sultan’s attack and, thankfully, did not realize how close his rifle shot had come to killing her.
He’d compensate Albert Schultz for the loss of his bull, and then focus on settling down and making his bride happy.
Zed, Running Bear, and Brownie met them in front of the corral. Their faces were grim.
Stormy slid off Belinda and landed spritely on the ground. “Blade has something to ask you.”
Brownie forced Stormy behind him while Running Bear took back his carbine.
Zed cleared his throat. “Son, you have fifteen minutes to pack your things and go.”
Blade dropped from his mare’s back and took a bewildered step forward. “I don’t understand, sir. You asked me to stay. I want to marry your daughter.”
“Vance sent for the marshal. He claims you attacked him. Beat him pretty bad. There are witnesses.”
“That’s not what happened,” Stormy said. “I went looking for Blade, and Vance tried to force me to . . . do things. Blade rescued me.”
“And then took advantage.” Brownie spat. “You didn’t sleep in your bed last night, young lady.”
“She slept with me,” Blade admitted.
“Before or after you popped the question?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Stormy said. “I love him and he loves me.”
“He’s not what we thought, Oshki-ikwe,” Running Bear said. “He is a land speculator. He befriended you—us—to steal our land.”
Stormy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Blade, tell them it’s not true.”
Blade wiped his palms on his jeans. He should have told them sooner. He could have; he’d had dozens of opportunities.
“It’s true,” he said. “I’ve bought and sold land for five years. I never forced or tricked anyone into selling, and I always paid a fair price. I quit once I got to know all of you.” He shoved his hands defenselessly into his pockets and drew a ragged breath. “How did you find out?”
“The name Vi Miller ring a bell?” Brownie snarled.
Blade clawed through his memories, back through times he’d been trying so hard to forget. He nodded. “Her husband, Paul, was too sick to run the farm anymore. I made an offer, and he accepted.”
“She came in on this morning’s stage. Vance introduced us.” Brownie’s eyes nar
rowed. “First thing she did was ask if you was around. Said you promised something for her boy.”
“Little Kile?” For the life of him, Blade couldn’t recall what he’d pledged over four years ago. The boy was twelve and didn’t know his father was dying.
“You’re darn good at making promises,” Brownie said, “but it sounds like you ain’t so good at keepin’ them.”
“It’s none of our business, Brownie,” Zed said firmly. “Blade, go gather your things.”
Blade looked toward Stormy, hoping she’d give him a chance to explain.
Her back was turned. Hands at her sides, her fingers flexed as if she was tallying the times he’d lied.
“Don’t make this hard, son,” Zed said. “Do the right thing.”
Blade nodded and strode toward the house. The last thing he wanted was to cause Stormy pain. He’d go to St. Louis, get his money, come back, and pay off her debt. Then, he’d beg for forgiveness.
Ten minutes later, he carried his saddlebags down the front steps like a man headed to the gallows. He ached to fold Stormy in his arms and whisper that he’d be back, but she stood ramrod stiff. Her eyes blazed with hurt. Or, was it loathing?
He tied his bags onto Belinda’s saddle and mounted up.
“Wait,” Stormy shouted.
Hoping he’d been granted a last-minute reprieve, his heart skipped a beat.
She held up his ring like a courtroom lawyer. “You didn’t buy this for me. How many times have you dangled it to swindle a family?”
He swallowed hard. “I bought the ring before I met you. But, you are the only woman I’ve given it to.”
“No more lies.” Running Bear raised his carbine and fired into the air. The shot reverberated like a judge’s gavel. His sentence was clear: leave now and don’t come back.
Brownie snatched the ring from Stormy’s upstretched hand and jammed it into Blade’s shirt pocket. “Git goin’.”
“I love you, Stormy.” Blade touched the brim of his hat, turned Belinda around, and tapped her into a trot.
Chapter 16
“Mr. Masters!”
A female voice roused Blade from his grieving. He blinked and realized Belinda was carrying him down Prosperity’s Main Street.
From the door of her mother’s store, Abigail Farber hailed him again. “A wire just came in for you. Marked urgent.”
He guided his mare forward, leaned down, and accepted the sealed paper.
“I hope it’s good news,” she said cheerfully.
He glanced at the sender’s address. News from his father was never good. “I’m sure it is, Abigail. Thank you.” He tucked the paper into his shirt pocket, tipped his hat, and steered his mare toward the hotel. He needed coffee, hot and strong, preferably laced with whiskey, before he left Belinda at the livery stable.
Vi Miller stepped through the doorway of the hotel and spread her arms. Short and buxom, she was still a hugger. “Blade Masters.”
Plastering his business smile on his face, he dismounted. “You came a long way. How’d you find me?”
“Kile read a notice in the Kansas City Sentinel asking for anyone who knew about you. We said we knew you, but refused to say how unless we got tickets to where you were. Didn’t think Mr. Vance would agree, but he did. And, here we are.” She looked pleased as punch.
“Kile’s with you?”
“He rode up top with the stage driver. Had the time of his life.” She leaned close and patted his arm. “You look like you could use a belt. Let’s go inside.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny Dunn frown. He could only imagine what she’d overheard when Stormy’s fathers were in town.
A strapping dark-haired boy strode down the stairs.
“Kile? Last time I saw you, you were half this size. You’re a man now.” Blade clapped the boy on the shoulders.
“I’m sixteen,” Kile said. “Finished my schoolin’, too.”
“Good for you. I told you, you could do it.”
In the open dining room, Vi lifted a blue enamel pot and poured three cups of coffee. She reached into her skirt pocket, pulled out a silver liquor flask, and fortified two cups. “Come and sit,” she called.
Blade followed Kile to the table. Thankful for what he was about to receive, he turned a hard, wooden chair around, straddled the seat, and lifted the cup to his lips.
“My husband passed six months after you bought our ranch, Blade. I’ve been tending the saloon while Kile finished school. He dreams about ranchin’ like his Pa, and I figured wherever you were buying land, it would be good. Dottie Cookson bought me out.”
Vi poked him in the ribs. “She still talks about you, too. Says she shouldn’t have let you get away.”
Blade grimaced. Dottie had never had him, though she’d tried hard.
Reminiscing was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He checked his shirt pocket. The wire from his father was still there. “Kile, this is cattle country. You won’t want to run sheep here.”
“Yes, sir. Three ranchers this morning said the same thing. One was named Hawkins. Mr. Vance from the Land & Loan offered to show us his spread. I was hoping you could come along. Ma trusts you.”
“I’m sorry, Kile. I can’t. My advice is to rent a carriage and drive out by yourselves. Zed Hawkins and his family are expert ranchers.” Blade downed his coffee and stood. “Their land is not coming up for sale—no matter what Jonathan Vance tries to tell you. Thanks for the drink, Vi. You were right. I needed it.”
She refilled his cup and slid it forward. “One for the road.”
Blade hesitated. Right now, he felt worse than when Candy had tricked him. If he drank what Vi had just poured, sorrow would overwhelm him. He’d found the life he’d been searching for, and then ruined his chance of ever living it.
Running Bear, who’d called him ‘my little brother,’ had threatened him with a carbine. Zed and Brownie no longer trusted him. Stormy had given back his ring.
He had no one to blame but himself. He’d always been cocksure, so certain he could convince anyone of anything. So like his father.
He sat back down and pulled the wire from his pocket. He turned it over and over in his hands, and then handed it to Kile. “Tell me what it says.”
Kile broke the seal. “Edward Peabody presented affidavit authorizing substantial draw. Looks forged. Your account now frozen. Sam Masters.”
Vi gasped. “The notice we answered about you was posted by a Peabody Investigations. Is he a friend?”
“Never met him.” Blade tapped his mug while his mind whirled. His father wouldn’t unfreeze his account unless he presented himself in person. He’d spend his last coins on a stall for Belinda in Olin Olsen’s livery and in renting a horse to take him to Yankton, but he’d managed worst situations before.
Edward Peabody was a bigger mystery. Who was he, and what was he after?
Blade looked across the table. Vi and her son didn’t arrive by chance. Someone had hired Edward Peabody to find them, then paid their way to Prosperity. Someone who wanted to discredit him to the Hawkins. Someone who wanted their ranch and their daughter as badly as he did.
Jonathan Vance.
He’d underestimated the land broker, another sign of his overreaching self-confidence. But, he was better than Vance. He actually loved Stormy. It was time to fight to win.
“Vi, where did you put the money from selling the saloon?”
“In your father’s bank, just like you taught me.” She snorted. “I’m no fool anymore.”
“Good. I’m headed to St. Louis right now. Can you afford to stay here at the hotel until I get back?”
“Sure, Blade. You made sure of that.”
“Kile, I’m leaving Belinda here. You and your ma can use her.”
>
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. To move fast, I’ll have to hop freighters.”
Kile’s eyes widened.
Blade motioned for them to lean in close and lowered his voice. “Look around and see what might be coming up for sale. If you find a ranch you like, wire me at the bank. I’ll help you negotiate.” He stood and squared his shoulders. “Let’s keep this between us. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
Chapter 17
“Blade gave you his horse?” Stormy didn’t believe the Miller boy for a minute. Blade loved Belinda more than anything else in the world.
“No, ma’am.” Sitting in Blade’s spot at the eating table, Kile fussed with his napkin. “He said I was to take care of her.”
“For how long?”
“Stormy,” Zed said. “Kile came here for advice, not to be grilled about Blade’s plans.”
“I think we deserve answers,” she said hotly. “Where’s Blade now?”
Kile stared toward the kitchen, where his mother and Brownie washed the supper dishes. “I don’t rightly know, ma’am. I was told to say he had pressing business to attend to.”
“So, he ordered you to come out here.”
Carrying the coffee pot, Vi walked into the room. “Blade suggested Kile could get good advice on starting a ranch.” She shooed Brownie into his seat and filled everyone’s coffee mugs. “Who wants cream and sugar?”
“I’ll take both,” Brownie said.
Stormy gaped. Brownie always drank his coffee black.
Vi stirred Brownie’s drink and set it back in front of him. “Here you go, hon.” She settled into the chair next to her son and leveled her gaze at Stormy. “I’ve been a barkeep for four years now, and I’ve learned a thing or two about people. They’s always got troubles, and they’s always lookin’ for someone to blame.”
Stormy bristled. This woman was a guest. She had no business criticizing her questions or stirring Brownie’s coffee.