Molly swallowed back her apprehension. If Storm sent her back to Mrs. Walters, she wouldn’t blame him. Molly hadn’t encountered anyone who tolerated Daniel for very long. The goose was simply too protective of her, but there was nothing she could do about it. She certainly wasn’t going to let anything happen to Daniel, even if it meant that she’d have to move on.
Lifting her chin and drawing in a deep breath for courage, Molly made her way across the yard to where Storm still stood, living up to his name. The look on his face was nothing short of a brewing thunderstorm. Somewhere from the other side of the barn, Daniel honked, chickens cackled, and a dog barked.
Molly stopped in front of Storm, who glared at her. “I’m sure Daniel will settle down once he’s had a chance to exercise a little. He’s just excited to be outside. He’s been cooped up too long since the journey from Denver.” Molly shook her head. “Actually, even before then, since I couldn’t very well let him run free in the city.”
Storm removed one of his gloves and swiped a hand through his hair.
“Have you ever considered that a goose would be better off living outside all the time?” he grumbled.
Molly shook her head. “No, he’s always lived with me. I promise to clean up any mess he makes. Please give it a little time. He’ll come around.” She wrung her hands in front of her, partly due to apprehension, and partly because she wasn’t wearing gloves.
“I want to apologize for the bad impression we made yesterday,” she added quickly. “I think we all got off on the wrong foot.”
Her eyes widened. Was that a hint of a smile on the man’s face? The anger was definitely leaving Storm’s eyes.
“If anyone made a bad first impression, Miss Norris, it was me. I will say that you took me by surprise. In more ways than one.”
They both looked up when Wolf came running toward them from the barn, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. The interruption prevented Molly from pondering the meaning of Storm’s words. Seconds later, the gander came charging after the dog, his wings flapping wildly and his webbed feet barely touching the ground. Daniel had never taken flight before. It was doubtful he even knew how.
“I’ll grab Daniel and keep him from chasing your dog.”
Molly rushed to intercept the goose, but a hand clamped around her arm, preventing her from going after her pet. She turned her head in surprise as Storm pulled her back. Their eyes met, and her mouth went dry.
“Wolf’ll be fine,” he said. “A little exercise is good for him. He’s been lying around too much lately, and like you said, the goose probably needs to let off some steam, too.”
Molly blinked, then nodded. “Thank you,” she stammered.
Storm’s forehead wrinkled. “Thank me for what?”
Molly scoffed. “Thank you for not trying to kill my goose.”
He actually chuckled, transforming his serious and stormy features instantly. Molly stared. He really was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His features were rugged and chiseled, yet when his lips softened in a smile, he had an almost mischievous look about him.
He rubbed his unshaven chin. “The thought’s crossed my mind, but I remember you saying something along the lines that anyone who tried to harm that bird would get filled with buckshot.”
Although Storm’s features had softened, he never did quite let his guard down, as if something prevented him from completely relaxing. When he looked at her, his eyes moved over her face, intently studying every inch of her. Molly held her breath. His gaze didn’t linger on her scar.
“I should go inside and fix breakfast,” she stammered, tearing her gaze away. “I was going to ask Ezra where the smokehouse was and if you have any bacon, and I need to collect some eggs from your chickens.”
“The henhouse is behind the barn. I’ll get the bacon for you.” The mention of breakfast, and that she was willing to cook it, seemed to cheer him up even more.
With a quiet nod, she scurried past him to the barn to look for eggs. Her heart still hammered stronger than usual in her chest, and she had to gulp for air several times. Molly smiled. Maybe this was going to work out after all.
She gathered the eggs, then hurried back to the cabin. Stopping at the door, she turned to look for Daniel just as a stream of curse words came from somewhere on the other side of the house. A goose honked loudly and a dog barked.
“Oh, dear.”
A second later, Storm came . . . storming around the corner of the cabin, holding a slab of bacon. Daniel had his neck stretched and his beak open, flapping his wings as he chased after the man. The dog ran circles around his master, trying to ward off the gander while staying a safe distance away from the angry bird.
Storm didn’t even look at her when he reached the door. He yanked it open and pushed past her into the cabin.
“Keep that beast out,” he called without stopping.
Molly stepped in front of Daniel when the goose was ready to charge into the house after Storm.
“This is not how to get on Mr. Thornton’s good side,” she chided.
Hesitating, she closed the door, keeping Daniel out of the cabin. Her heart nearly tore in two. She’d never denied the goose to be near her, but at least for now, it had to be this way. Whatever progress she’d made with Storm a few minutes ago had certainly been shattered.
Molly sighed, then turned to take the eggs to the counter by the stove. Storm stood by the hearth, the slab of bacon still in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Molly whispered, daring a glance at him. The annoyance was back in his eyes.
“I know geese are protective of their territory and their mates, but . . .” he let the rest of his thoughts linger without voicing them.
“It’s my fault. I won’t let him out of my sights from now on, I promise.”
Storm looked at her. He wasn’t exactly scowling, but a deep frown marred his face.
“Why is that bird so important to you?” He came up beside her and placed the meat on the counter. His dark stare kept her rooted to the spot.
Molly inhaled a deep breath, taking in the smell of horses and leather, a scent that suited the man standing next to her. She raised her head to meet his gaze. She swallowed, and clenched her jaw for a moment. She was not going to start crying again in front of this man. She’d nearly done that last night.
“I lost a dear friend this past summer,” she whispered. “I’d already lost my father earlier in the year. He was my only living relative, that I know of.” Molly sniffed. “Danica Jensen was there for me when he died. We didn’t have much. Papa was a gold prospector in Montana Territory, and we moved a lot, so I never made friends for long. We finally settled in Virginia City, and I finally found a good friend in Dani.”
Molly forced a smile. Perspiration beaded her forehead. It was starting to get rather warm in the cabin.
“The day after I found out that she was killed in an . . .” Molly stopped. She held Storm’s gaze, who looked at her expectantly. “She was killed in an Indian raid.”
Storm visibly stiffened next to her. The muscles along his jaw clenched, but he remained silent.
“I was walking along the creek to gather my thoughts the day after the news came out, when I saw a fox raiding a goose nest. There were no adult geese nearby. I chased it off, and found one remaining egg in the nest that was hatching.” She laughed softly to conceal the turmoil that rose inside her every time she relived that day. “That’s the day I found Daniel. He will always be special to me because I had something to care for after my friend died.” Molly glanced at the ground. “In some ways, it makes me feel connected to her.”
She swiped the back of her hand under her nose, then turned away from Storm. Her hands trembled slightly when she reached for a bowl to set the eggs in to keep them from rolling off the counter.
“And what brought you to Noelle, Miss Norris?”
Molly stiffened. Storm’s voice was too close behind her. It no longer sounded angry, but had dropped to a l
ow, almost sultry, tone. Slowly, she turned to face him. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal the rest of her story to him.
“You did, Mr. Thornton.”
Chapter 7
The Third Day of Christmas, December 27, 1876
Storm slowly opened the door of the cabin and glanced inside. He cringed at the way the hinges creaked, something he’d never paid attention to before. Time to oil them so they wouldn’t make so much noise. He scoffed and pushed the door open fully, gripping the wooden stick he held in his hand like a club, ready to strike and defend himself if need be.
He stopped before fully entering the main room and cocked his head to listen. All was quiet except for Wolf’s nervous whine next to him. The dog felt about the same way as he. The canine had been displaced from his blanket by the hearth as much as Storm had been displaced from his home, constantly on guard and anticipating an attack from a feathered monster. That goose of Molly’s had made it clear who was in charge, and no one else seemed to care that the beast was wreaking havoc on this entire ranch.
Expelling the breath he’d been holding, Storm relaxed his muscles and shut the door behind him. The goose would have made his presence known by now if he was around. Storm glanced toward the closed door to Molly’s room. Had she locked the gander in there? He shook his head. Who’d ever heard of a goose living inside the house? And what had happened to him that he tolerated it?
Come to think of it, what had happened to his peaceful and quiet existence in the last few days? Annoyance gripped him anew that he’d been reduced to tiptoeing around his own ranch, and especially his cabin, since the day Molly Norris and that blasted goose of hers had entered his life.
His eyes roamed around the warm room. He inhaled a deep breath. Remnants of the delicious smells of biscuits and gravy from this morning’s breakfast lingered in the air. Storm’s mouth watered. The floor was spotless, except for the mud he’d just tracked in.
The few items on the mantel were clean of dust and the wood in the wood box was stacked neatly by the hearth. Months of soot and coal had been cleaned out of the fireplace, and all the cobwebs were gone from the corners and ceilings. The table was decorated with three place settings, a blanket was folded across Kunu’s rocking chair, and even the old rug on the floor in front of the hearth looked free of years of accumulated dirt. Wolf’s bedding, which had always been covered in more hair than the dog, looked brand new.
Storm gnashed his teeth. Indeed, what had happened to his cabin in the last few days since Molly’s arrival? He walked to the stove and lifted the coffee pot. It was hot, and half-full. A plate sat on the counter with some leftover biscuits.
A slow smile spread across Storm’s face. He shook his head to rid himself of the unwanted thoughts that kept invading his mind. This cabin, his house, had been transformed into a home in two short days. Despite the nasty house guest, a warm and cozy feeling rushed through him as the fire crackled in the hearth, keeping the room warm.
How had Molly managed to do all this in such a short amount of time? Not only cleaning this place to make it look as if a woman had lived here forever, but how had she managed to worm her way under his skin? From the moment he’d first set eyes on her in the saloon, she’d done something to him. Despite the fact that they’d been at odds with each other ever since they’d met, lying in the snow on Christmas Day, she’d melted his heart with her soft smile and expressive eyes.
Kunu would be grinning from ear to ear if he knew what was going through Storm’s mind. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe the old man was right. Maybe he was missing a woman in his life. It sure was nice to come into a warm house every morning after feeding the horses and get served a hearty breakfast, and again a delicious supper after a hard day’s work. And neither he nor Ezra had to prepare any of it themselves.
It was more than that, though. Even without a fire in the hearth, the presence of Molly gave the cabin a feeling of warmth. Every time their eyes met, something came to life in his chest, bundled around his heart and stirred feelings in him that had never sprung to life before.
Prior to her arrival, the notion of falling into anything had conjured images of fear and terror in him for the better part of three years, ever since the mine explosion that had left him... This time, however, falling had a different meaning - not the gruesome thoughts of an endless abyss - than being buried alive. With every soft hint of a smile from her, he was falling a little deeper for Molly Norris. No, the feeling of falling . . . falling in love brought a sense of peace and calm.
Falling in love. The notion sounded as silly as a goose living in his house. He chuckled and shook his head. A goose was living in his house. Maybe he oughta give this marriage thing a little more thought. Without the goose underfoot, it would be easier to spend more time with Molly and get to know her better, find out about her past and why she’d felt the need to come to Noelle, of all places, to find a husband.
The smile on his face turned to a frown. Molly was a good woman. She deserved a better man than him. Being married to a man of mixed blood would make her an outcast among many folks. Did it matter to her? She hadn’t said a word about his heritage, nor had she looked at him in the way he was used to from other people.
There was something in her past that she was hiding, however. He hadn’t asked her about her scar, or if she’d really shot someone, the way she’d implied, in order to protect her goose.
While she’d shared her story about how she’d come to own the cantankerous beast, she hadn’t told him much else about herself. Not that they’d had much in the way of meaningful conversations. Every time he walked in the house or came within ten feet of Molly, that goose was ready to do battle with him. All it took was one bite to create a festering wound.
Storm tossed the stick he still clutched in his hand into the fire, then moved to the counter and reached for a couple of the biscuits. He tossed one to Wolf, and took a bite out of the other one. It was still buttery-soft and nearly melted in his mouth, just as it had done at breakfast. Perhaps it was time to talk to Molly about the idea of getting married. She was here as his bride, after all. First, though, he had to go into town and see Culver Daniels, the blacksmith, about making a new hinge for his corral gate.
Storm grabbed another biscuit, then moved to the front door. Before he could open it, the hinges of Molly’s bedroom door creaked. He barely had time to turn around when the goose came charging at him with a loud honk and flapping of its wings. Storm cursed under his breath, glancing at the hearth where his weapon was being consumed by flames. Wolf barked and hid behind Storm.
“No you don’t, Daniel.”
The goose never did get all the way across the room. Storm raised his eyes from the flapping bird to Molly, who wore a triumphant smile. The angry gander honked and flailed, and lost his footing, falling to the ground. Molly came out of her room holding a string in her hand.
Storm’s brows rose. On closer inspection, there was a wide blue ribbon fashioned like a collar around the gander’s neck.
“It worked.” Molly picked up the goose and stroked his neck. The bird continued to squabble, but he calmed down in her arms.
“You put a leash on him?” Storm stared and suppressed a grin.
Even stranger than a goose in the cabin was a goose in the cabin wearing a leash. He had no objections as long as it kept the nasty thing away from him and Wolf.
Maybe it’ll snap his neck.
Storm mentally kicked himself for the thought. He may not get along with the goose, but he certainly didn’t want to see it get hurt. It would devastate Molly.
“Maybe you oughta make a harness instead,” he suggested.
Molly blinked. The surprise in her eyes that he would suggest something that would keep her pet from getting hurt made him smile.
“I hope a restraint will help until Daniel gets used to you,” she stammered. “I’m sure with a little more time, he’ll be much friendlier. Maybe if you started feeding him, like Ezra’s doing, he’ll co
me around much faster.”
The hopeful look in Molly’s eyes kept Storm rooted to the spot. He really needed to get going if he wanted to be in town and back again before dark.
“I doubt there’s anything that’ll make that beast friendlier,” he grumbled, instantly regretting the harshness in his tone. Molly’s smile faltered.
Storm clenched his jaw. “I appreciate you trying to keep the peace around here.” With a nod, he turned to head out the door. All his thoughts and earlier feelings seemed to have slipped out the window. He clearly had no idea how to talk to a woman. She was beside him before he could open the door.
“Where are you going?”
Storm glanced at the goose, who extended his neck and hissed at him. Molly’s hand held him back.
“Got some business in town. I should be back before supper. My grandfather is working on some harnesses in the barn if you need anything.” He reached for the handle on the door.
“Can I go with you?”
Storm froze. He looked at her again. “What for?” He cursed under his breath. This might be his chance to talk to her.
“I know there’s a mercantile in town.”
Storm nodded. “Cobb’s Penn.”
“I’d like to see about a few items to buy.”
Storm glanced from her to her ferocious pet. “What about the goose? I’m going on horseback and hadn’t planned on hitching the wagon.”
“I know how to ride. You don’t need to hitch the wagon because of me, and I’ll leave Daniel here. He’s been settling in nicely in my room.”
Spending a little time with Molly, without that blasted goose around, was exactly what had crossed his mind a few minutes ago. He nodded.
“All right. I’ll saddle up a horse for you. Be ready to go in ten minutes.”
When she smiled, her entire face lit up, and Storm stared. He blinked and mentally shook his head. Adjusting his hat on his head, he yanked the door open and rushed down the porch to the barn.
The Goose_The Sixth Day Page 7