Part 7 (2/2)
”Perhaps you're wrong,” Turner said thoughtfully. ”Perhaps kid gloves are exactly what's needed to convince the Widow Kennedy to move on to other parts. Or ...” an arrested look came over his face, ”I could rely on that old adage about honey catching more flies than vinegar. Boys,” he said, grinning wickedly, ”I'm going acourtin'. Wish me luck.”
Storm hadn't seen Grady since the day he stormed out of her cabin. Nor did she expect to see him anytime soon after the angry words they'd exchanged. The weather had turned bl.u.s.tery, and each time she carried wood into the house for her stove she was reminded that if not for Grady she would be out cutting wood right now. Truth to tell, the guilt she felt was not due entirely to the firewood he had provided. A good share of it came from their l.u.s.tful coupling that night a week ago.
”d.a.m.n womanizer!” Storm muttered beneath her breath as she grabbed her jacket from the hook and stomped out the door. She had no business thinking about a no-good half-breed whose mysterious hatred for the white race left him bitter and distrustful when she had ch.o.r.es to do. Plucking a bucket from the doorstep, she headed for the well to draw water for the day. She was just lowering the bucket down the shaft when she saw a rider approaching in the distance.
Leaving the bucket dangling at the end of the rope, Storm rushed back inside the cabin and grabbed her shotgun. She had been so immersed in arousing thoughts of Grady Stryker that she had neglected to bring her gun along. Since the attack the other night, she had made a point to carry it wherever she went. When she opened the door Nat Turner had already dismounted and was approaching the cabin.
”Storm, my dear girl, I just heard the news in town. Are you all right? What kind of monsters would attack an unprotected woman?”
”News gets around fast,” Storm replied. ”I was just in town yesterday to order another pane for my shattered window and mentioned to Mr. Clark that I had unwelcome visitors in the night. Of course I also reported it to the sheriff.”
”Dreadful news like that doesn't take long to spread. What do you suppose they wanted?” he asked innocently.
”I-don't know.” Storm stammered. A dull red crept up her neck. She was too embarra.s.sed to reveal that both men had attempted to rape her before Grady intervened.
”Hmmm, could be robbery. Then again, you are a beautiful woman.” From what he left unsaid Storm realized he had guessed what the masked men had attempted. ”How in the world did you manage to chase them away without being hurt?”
”Come inside, Nat, and I'll explain,” Storm invited. It was too cold to stand outside talking. ”There's hot coffee sitting on the back of the stove and apple pie left from yesterday.”
Once they were seated across from one another sipping coffee and eating pie, Nat waited politely for Storm to continue her explanation of the attack.
”I had help,” she revealed tersely. ”Grady Stryker saved me from-from-an unpleasant experience.”
Turner feigned surprise. ”The half-breed? What in the h.e.l.l was he doing here at that time of night?”
”It's not what you think, Nat,” Storm was quick to add. ”Grady's arrival was as much a surprise to me as it was to the two masked men. I owe my life to his excellent hearing and keen senses. He sensed danger even before he heard shots echoing across the prairie.”
”How-fortunate,” Nat said. His smile, while outwardly sincere, never reached his eyes. ”I hope the sheriff finds the men responsible.”
”Yes, indeed, very fortunate,” Storm concurred brightly. Though she tried to subdue the memory, her eyes turned dreamy when she recalled what had transpired after the intruders left her property. Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head to rid it of every delicious detail of their pa.s.sionate encounter.
Nat cleared his throat, bringing Storm back to the present. ”I tried to tell you, my dear, that it isn't safe for you out here alone. What if it happens again and Stryker isn't as perceptive as he was the other night?”
”I'll be prepared next time,” Storm declared stoutly.
Turner frowned. ”This unprovoked attack should convince you that you're not capable of protecting your land. You need a husband, my dear. Especially if you expect to remain on your homestead.”
”Contrary to your belief, I'm quite capable, Nat. I'll manage just fine on my own.”
Turner knew when to retreat. The last thing he wanted was to incur Storm's anger. ”I'm sure you will, Storm. Meanwhile, do you have enough money to get by until your land starts producing?”
Storm thought back to her recent conversation with the banker. Building her cabin and digging the well had cost far more than she had originally antic.i.p.ated. After purchasing provisions to last the winter, she barely had enough cash left to purchase the cattle she'd ordered. The news had shocked her, but she remained undaunted. Somehow she would persevere.
”I'll get by.” Her grim expression gave Turner the distinct impression that Storm would succeed, unless he took matters into his own hands.
”Enough of this talk, Storm. What I really came for is to invite you to a barn dance Sat.u.r.day night. How long has it been since you've enjoyed yourself at a social affair?”
”A barn dance?” Storm's face flushed with pleasure. She recalled how much she and Buddy used to enjoy dancing. ”It sounds won-” Her words ground to a halt. ”Oh, I don't think I should.”
”Of course you should,” Turner contradicted smoothly. ”You're still a young woman. You deserve a little pleasure in your life.”
”What will people say? My husband has been dead less than two months.”
”Who cares what they say? No one can take his memory away from you. I'm sure your young husband would be the first to urge you to accept my invitation.”
His arguments made sense to Storm. Buddy would have hated to see her sitting home and grieving. He'd want her to enjoy herself. ”You've convinced me, Nat. I'll be happy to attend the barn dance with you.”
Turner grinned delightedly. ”I knew you were too sensible to remain a recluse when life beckons. I'll pick you up at five o'clock Sat.u.r.day evening. Don't disappoint me.”
”I won't,” Storm promised, already looking forward to a pleasant evening in Nat's company.
Nat left soon afterward. Storm stood in the doorway, waving good-bye as he rode away.
”That wasn't very smart, lady.”
”Oh!” Whirling on her heel, Storm glared murderously at Grady. He had emerged like a wraith from the shadowy side of the cabin and stood just a few feet behind her. ”Why are you spying on me? Do you always sneak around like that? I've never known anyone who can move as stealthily as you.”
”I told you before I was trained to move without being heard or seen. As for spying, I was merely keeping an eye on you.”
”How did you know Nat was here? I'm beginning to believe you actually do possess some mystical power no one is aware of.”
He gave her a smile that completely disarmed her. ”There is nothing mystical about using one's eyes and ears. I was removing a stump from my land when I saw Turner riding by. It didn't take long to guess where he was going. I thought I'd follow and see what he was up to.”
”Since you obviously overheard our conversation, you know that Nat was 'up' to nothing more dangerous than inviting me to a barn dance.”
”It was unwise of you to accept,” Grady repeated with cool authority. ”Nat Turner is a scoundrel who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Obviously he wants your land.”
”Are you saying Nat isn't interested in me as a woman? That he finds nothing desirable about me but my land?” Storm asked in a voice as reasonable as she could manage under the circ.u.mstances.
”No, lady, I'd be a fool to say that,” he replied in an odd yet gentle tone.
Unable to withstand the intense heat of his gaze, Storm turned to enter the house, fully intending to slam the door in Grady's face. ”Good day, Mr. Stryker.”
”Storm, wait.”
”I have nothing more to say to you.”
”You could quit lying to yourself and admit you felt something special when we made love the other night.”
”I'd be lying if I admitted you moved me in any way except to fill me with contempt.” Abruptly she turned and slammed the door in his face. His curses left a trail of blue as he stormed around to the back of the cabin, where he had left his horse. She watched from the window as he rode away, wondering if she'd ever see him again and asking herself why she even cared.
Nat arrived promptly at five o'clock Sat.u.r.day night, driving a horse and buggy rented especially for the occasion. Urging Storm to dress warmly, he bundled her into the buggy and took off at a smart clip. Lanterns mounted on either side of the buggy lit their way, aided by a full moon. Storm was full of excitement when they arrived at the barn, located at the south edge of Guthrie. She could hear the lively music echoing across the plains long before they reached their destination.
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