Wayward Wind (20 page)

She tilted her head to look up at him with undisguised hunger. He had placed his hat on the bench before he kissed her and
she could see the thick, crisp hair that covered the tops of his ears and fell onto his forehead. Her hand moved to smooth
it back.

“Oh, my love,” her heart cried, “will you learn to love me as I love you?”

Cooper could feel the strong vibrations of his pounding heart. He was fascinated by the soft, sweet smile that curved her
lips and was reflected in her eyes. He had never felt less articulate in his life. All that he wished to say stayed inside
his head. She was a witch, a child-woman. She would take over his heart, his soul, and all his waking moments if he gave in
to her.

She moved her hands to his shoulders and raised up on her toes. Her nose nuzzled the hair back from his ear, and warm lips
caressed the lobe. “Shall I tell you something you’ve not thought of yet?”

“How can I think of anything with you doing that?” He held her away from him and his eyes devoured her smiling face.

“We’ll make beautiful, strong children, my love, and… lots of them,” she whispered, and then with a giggle she left his arms
and darted into the house before he could reply.

Lorna stood inside the door of the darkened house for a moment because her wildly racing heart was making her breathless.
He was her dear love. They would have lots of children who would grow up and have children. They’d all live together right
there on Light’s Mountain.

She could hear the low murmur of voices on the porch and was grateful that Frank hadn’t brought Hollis and Billy into the
house. She lit the lamp in the kitchen, stoked the fire in the cookstove, and added a few sticks of wood from the woodbox.
When she was sure it had caught she hurried to her room and slipped out of her clothes and washed in the china bowl on the
washstand. She loosened her hair, brushed it and tied it back with a ribbon, then rummaged through the chest at the end of
the bed that held her mother’s clothes. She brought out a black skirt and a yellowed, white blouse with large mutton sleeves
and a high neck. She slipped them on and buttoned the blouse up the front with nervous fingers. The blouse was too big and
the skirt too short. She hadn’t worn the outfit since she went to a burying on the other side of the mountain more than a
year ago. She dressed hurriedly and slipped her feet into the new pair of moccasins White Bull had given her on his last visit.

The kitchen was empty when she reached it so she went to the door. Cooper was sitting on the end of the porch. She could see
the glow of his cigarette and the arc it made when he flipped it into the yard.

“Come on in, Cooper.” She stood back when he came into the room. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her violet eyes
anxiously searched his face. At first there was nothing; then a smile that started at the corners of his lips spread into
a broad grin.

“By jinks damn! Look here! I almost didn’t know you without the britches.”

“Oh, you—”

“You’re a woman after all, and as pretty as a bluewing teal.” He laughed with delight at her reddened face, covered her hand
with his, and gripped it hard.

“Sit here and behave yourself.” She pulled her hand from under his and gestured toward a cane-bottomed chair beside the table.

His eyes held hers for several seconds before he moved. Her heart began thumping in her neck as his low, chuckling laugh surrounded
her and warmed her. He cupped one big hand under her chin, gave it a shake and said, “I’m as hungry as a bear and you look
good enough to eat.”

Lorna took a deep shuttering breath, her joyful heart shining in her eyes. She was almost lightheaded with happiness. “I’d
give you a belly ache—”

“I reckon you would.” His eyes were still wrinkled at the corners, his lips still twitching.

“I’ll fix you a mess of eggs. My hens have been laying lately, and we’ve eaten eggs till they’re coming out our ears. I’m
surprised Pa even gathered them.”

“Eggs will be fine. I haven’t had anything but meat since I left home more than a month ago. I’ve missed my ma’s cooking,”
he said and grinned in the boyish way she loved.

“You’re anxious to get back home?” It was a silly question and she wished she hadn’t voiced it.

“Yeah. I left some mares in foal. I’m anxious about them, and about how Ma fared while I was gone. Not that I worried about
her, I know she’s all right. But I miss being home.”

There was a longing in his voice that caused Lorna to feel a sudden emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

She stood uncertainly beside the chair. His home was important to him, maybe as important to him as hers was to her. A new
emotion rose up in her as acute as pain—fear he would return to the home he was so eager to get back to and never again come
to Light’s Mountain.

“How do you like your eggs?” she stammered, desperate to shake off this feeling of desolation. “Fried, or boiled and put in
gravy? I’m not the best cook in the world, but most anybody can cook eggs or boil greens and fat-back. Hoppin’ John’s my specialty.
I can just about put meat scraps, peas and peppers together blindfolded. That’s easy compared to making doughnuts—I’m just
no hand at all at making doughnuts. They come out hard and flatter than a flatter—”

She smoothed her skirt down with the palms of her hands and looked into eyes, warm, bright and… twinkling! Color came slowly
up her neck and turned her cheeks crimson. She put her palms against them.

“I’m just rattling on like a looney!” she wailed. “Dammit, Cooper! You’ve got me so nervous and jittery that I’m making a
fool of myself.”

He put his head back and laughed. Violet eyes, wide with distress, clung to his face. He tugged on her skirt and pulled her
closer to him.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in quite a spell. I’m glad to know there’s a real woman inside those britches you’ve
been wearing and that you can get nervous and jittery.”

“I
am
a real woman, Cooper. Don’t I kiss like a real woman?”

“Uh huh, you sure enough do!”

“Do I kiss as good as town girls?”

“Well, now… I’ll have to ponder on that.”

There was a silence, then she jerked her skirt from his grasp and stood glaring down at him. “Don’t ponder too hard or you
might strain what’s between your ears!” Eyes that held a trace of hurt and a definite glimmer of irritation met eyes that
twinkled with amusement.

“With a little more practice, you’ll be a fair-to-middlin’ kisser.”

She gazed into laughing eyes as blue as the sky and her brief spurt of anger drowned in their sparkling depths. Then, lightning
fast, her fingers reached inside his shirt and she gave a hard yank to a thick tuft of golden hair on his chest. She sprang
away when he yelped and reached out his long arms to grab her.

“I’ll see if I can find a man willing to let me practice on him,” she retorted sassily. Her merry laughter filled the room.

How wonderful, she thought, to have him here in her home, laughing, teasing. He belonged here! He belonged here with her!
The thought flitted through her mind like a melody and soft musical notes escaped from her lips. Smiling, she whirled away
to start the meal, but the smile on her face died a sudden death when she saw her father, Billy and Hollis watching from the
doorway.

Cooper turned his head to follow Lorna’s gaze. In the silence that followed, he watched the men come into the room. He had
seen men of their caliber in every saloon in the territory; sleazy, hard-faced men, looking for an easy dollar. There was
cruelty in the face of one who pushed ahead of the others, a harshness that seemed to spring from some inner source of malice
and hatred. He wore a gun tied down and had a knife in his belt. The other man stood slightly behind him and there was an
odd similarity in their faces.

“What’re ya doin’ here, mister?” The harsh voice sprang boldly into the room. Cooper raised up out of the chair and stood
facing the doorway, but didn’t speak.

“I ain’t alikin’ ya messin’ round my… intended.”

Lorna let out a muffled gasp of fury. “Damn you, Hollis!”

“Hush, woman. This’s men business.”

“Why you… stupid clabberhead! You dumb… hog! Don’t be telling me to hush up in my own house! I’m not, and never will be,
your
intended! It would be a cold day in hell when I marry up with trash like you.” She reached behind her and grabbed a quirt
from the peg on the wall. “Now get out of here or I’ll take my whip to you!”

“Hush up yore mouth, I said!” Hollis’s small, bright eyes stared at Cooper while he spoke. “There’ll come a time when I’ll
learn ya to keep a civil tongue in yore head.”

“Hold on, Hollis!” Frank roared. “Ye’ll not be causin’ no trouble in me own house, ’n I’ll be havin’ ye to know my lassie
ain’t yer intended ’n
ye’ll
be keepin’ the civil tongue in yer head.”

Small furious eyes swung to the stocky man who stood with his hands on his hips. “Gawddamn ya, Frank! Ya said—”

“I said if me lassie was willin’, is what I be sayin’ to ye. It ’pears she ain’t wantin’ ye fer her mon ’n that’s the end
of it.”

Hollis reacted as if Frank’s harsh voice had slapped him across the face. His face turned blotchy red and he clenched his
fists. He took a step forward as if he would strike him, then rocked back on his heels as if an invisible hand held him. He
turned his hate-filled eyes to Cooper.

“I asked ya what’re ya doin’ here? What’re ya sniffin’ round Lorna fer?” He turned to stare fixedly at Frank. “It ain’t fer
nothin’, Frank. Ya wantin’ a outlander to come in here anosin’ round yore gal? If you can’t take care of this here drifter
’n send ’im on his way, I reckon I can do it, ’n without no help from you.”

“He brung me lassie home, ’n he be welcome to a meal. I’ll not be havin’ a mon comin’ on me place atellin’ me to send a mon
packin’, be Gad!” Frank’s voice rose to a roar. Anger was stamped on his face and in every line of his body.

“
Yore
place?” Hollis sneered. “Ya ain’t never said nothin’ ’bout this being
yore
place afore. ’Twas always
her
place, ya was callin’ it.” He looked down at the shorter man with an insulting, superior look on his face.

“Get out of here, Hollis, and take that buzzard bait with you.” Lorna jerked her head toward Billy Tyrrell. Her voice was
sharp and hard and quivered with anger.

Hollis ignored her.

“If’n this is
yore
place, Frank and ya got the say so round here, ya’d do good to put a strap on that gal’s butt, ’n she’d do what she’s told
without no back-talk.”

Hollis’s words and his sneering voice caused a hurricane of rage to sweep up from deep inside Frank, ridding him of fear and
replacing it with pride.

“Hold yer tongue!” Frank demanded in a strident shout. “I be havin’ no mon come to me house ’n speak so of me or me lass!”
His head jutted forward and his hamlike fist came out as if to strike Hollis. “Ye ’n Brice be doin’ things not to me likin’,
Hollis.” He stuttered with the power of emotion, and his voice was heavy with Scottish brogue. “What ye’re doin’ be no business
a mine, ’n I keep me nose outta it, but I be tellin’ ye now, ye had no call to be cripplin’ an oold mon like ye done ’n I
be havin’ no part a it on me conscience.”

“Holy shit, Frank! What side a the fence ya on, anyways?” Billy spoke for the first time and edged his way from behind Hollis
to stand beside him.

Cooper stood loose jointed, his hands at his sides. He was confident he could handle the blowhard in front of him, but he
didn’t like the confinement of the room, or the fact that Lorna stood a chance of being hurt in a free-for-all. His eyes moved
like the swift slash of a knife, taking in everyone, but they rested for a fraction of a second longer on Lorna. She was looking
at her father with something like bewilderment on her face.

“If’n ya ain’t with us, yore agin us,” Hollis said menacingly.

“Aye,” Frank said. “I don’t be likin’ the turn a things. I done tol’ ye me lassie was choosin’ her own mon.”

“Ferget ’er, fer now. I’m a talkin’ ’bout this here gent. He ain’t had nothin’ to say. Ya doin’ his talkin’ fer him, Frank?”

Frank shot a glance at Cooper, and it came to him like a shouted warning that here was a man who backed down to nothing. This
was the man to watch, with his loose-knit frame and the careless way he held his hands to his sides. The air of nonchalance
was a trifle too well managed, too pat. The man’s eyes were on Hollis and devoid of expression, his features blank and cold
as marble.

“I do my own talking when there’s something to say or somebody decent to say it to. All that’s here, besides Miss Lorna and
her pa, is a couple of mangy, flea-bitten polecats. I’ve got no use at all for polecats.” Cooper’s voice was soft, but the
words fell like stones in the quiet room.

Hollis started to answer, choked, and said in a barely audible monotone, “Gawdamn! Ya Gawdamn outsider—”

His nostrils flared and a faint white mark rimmed his mouth as color drained from his face. He straightened to his full height,
then slowly bent forward. The man’s fury was real. It pushed him beyond the bounds of reason. His hand flashed down and grasped
the gun at his side.

Lorna moved with blinding swiftness. She slashed Hollis across the forearm with the heavy quirt just as his gun was sliding
free. The blow brought a yell from Hollis. The gun fell back into the holster and he grabbed his arm as blood sprang from
the cut made by the whip. Lorna lifted her arm to strike him again and Cooper, with a muffled curse, leaped forward and jerked
the quirt from her hand.

“Mister, you came within a second of getting yourself killed,” Cooper said in a coldly wicked voice. “You better be glad you
got a cut on the arm instead of a hole in your head.”

“Get out of here, Hollis. You step foot on this place again and I’ll shoot you,” Lorna said, her voice unnaturally quiet;
it’s very gentleness caused all four men to send her darting glances. Anger had made her eyes brilliant; her cheeks were flushed
and her whole body trembled with rage.