Wild Thunder (2 page)

From her little head to her little feet
She was swayed in her suppleness to and fro
By each gust of passion; a sapling pine,
That grows on the edge of a Kansas bluff!

—F
RANK
D
ESPREZ

 

 

 

 

“And how do you like living with your big brother?” Chuck Kody asked as he squinted through his thick eyeglasses, trying to see Hannah across the large oak dining table. “It's quite different from living 'midst the hustle and bustle of Saint Louis, isn't it, sis?”

Since she was no longer under the scrutiny of her parents, or the sisters at the convent, Hannah was feeling at peace with herself for the first time in weeks. Except for her concern over her brother's failing eyesight, she would feel that finally all was well in her world.

She shoved her empty breakfast plate aside, saddened that he couldn't see well enough now to see her give him a warm smile.

“I love it,” she said, rising from her chair. She went to Chuck and stood behind him, then draped her arms around his neck and lay a cheek on his head. “I'm glad to be here with
you
.”

He reached up and patted one of her hands. “It's not the same, though, is it?” he said thickly.

She leaned around him and kissed his cheek. “No, it isn't,” she said, her voice drawn. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and tell your eyes to be like they were years ago when we went horseback riding every morning before breakfast. Now
that
was living, big brother. I don't think I've ever felt as alive as then.”

“Damn my eyes,” Chuck said in a low growl. “I can hardly see an inch ahead of me now, much less ride a horse.”

Hannah stepped away from him as he inched his chair back and rose slowly to his feet. She flinched when he stumbled over the leg of the chair, causing it to fall over with a loud crack against the polished oak floor.

“Hell,” Chuck said, bending and searching for the chair with his hand.

“I'll get it for you,” Hannah said, tears filling her eyes to see his helplessness.

“No,” Chuck said. He reached a hand out to stop her. “Please don't patronize me, Hannah. I'm not that helpless. Not yet, anyhow. It's just a damn chair. Anyone can knock over a damn, stupid chair.”

Covering her mouth with her hands, Hannah stood back and watched him grope around for the chair.

Once he found it, she could see how his hands trembled as he locked his fingers around the back of the chair. She wanted to rush in and get it upright again for him, so that he would not have to feel the helplessness that he was surely experiencing.

She sighed heavily as the chair was finally in place at the table.

She then watched as her brother searched around for his cane, then sighed again when he found it.

As he inched himself along, feeling his way across the room with his cane, Hannah walked beside him. She didn't dare place a hand to his elbow and help him. Although she was there for that very purpose, she had discovered upon first arriving at the ranch that it had not been
his
decision at all to have her there, to see to his every need. It had been her father's. He had taken it upon himself to interfere in his son's and daughter's lives again.

She knew, deep down, that her brother was thankful she was there, no matter the circumstances. And she certainly had not minded her father manipulating her life this time, either. It had gained her freedom from the convent.

How wonderful it was to be out here in the wide-open spaces where she could look for miles and miles and see the vastness of the land. Just seeing it made her feel free, sometimes even wild, as though she were one with the land and the animals.

While horseback riding, she had even taken advantage of her newfound freedom to go and take a look at the Potawatomis Indian village not far from her brother's ranch. In fact, their land adjoined Chuck's. It was hard to tell where their land stopped and Chuck's started. Only a small portion of his ranch, used for pasturing cows, was bordered with a fence.

Thus far, Hannah had not come face-to-face with any Potawatomis people. The thought intrigued her, especially since they were her neighbors.

“You go on, now, Hannah, and take your morning ride,” Chuck said as they entered the parlor.

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me,” Hannah joked back.

“Never,” Chuck said, stopping to turn to her. He searched with his hand until he found her face. He ran his fingers over her features. “Sweet Hannah. You don't know how good it
is
to have you here. Please forgive me if I get grouchy sometimes. I'm finding it damn hard to adjust to my affliction. Please always remember, though, that having you here helps lighten the burden.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “I only wish to do what is best for you.”

Her gaze moved over him. He was a tall, handsome man. Although he could buy any expensive suit he wished, he usually wore fringed buckskins. He had told her that he wore the buckskins because they were more comfortable. She knew that the true reason was because they were easier to get into, with no buttons to maneuver into buttonholes.

His collar-length hair was the same color as hers, as golden as Kansas wheat. And his eyes, although having failed him, were still a sparkling green.

He was very muscular, even though he was no longer able to get out and do much physical labor. But she had seen him exercise, knowing himself the importance of keeping his muscles alive and active.

“I'll let you know when I need your help,” Chuck said, settling down in a chair before a slow-burning fire in the massive stone fireplace. “Now, you'd best get on your way before the heat of the day makes it too uncomfortable for you to ride. These cooler mornings, when even a fire feels good to my bones, are the best time for riding. Remember that you aren't here to be my maid. I have enough help to care for the house and to see to the cooking.”

“Yes, and most seem dependable,” Hannah said, thinking that there was one man who seemed less than trustworthy.

Tiny Sharp, her brother's foreman.

There was something about the man that bothered Hannah. It wasn't altogether the way he looked at her. It was not a look of a man who was interested in a woman, and she understood. With her tall height and lankiness, she saw herself less than desirable for any man.

No, it was something else. He was shifty-eyed. He seemed to always be looking at her with a silent loathing!

She gazed around at the luxurious room. This alone could place envy in the heart of any man. Perhaps the foreman resented her brother for being this rich. Perhaps he resented her for being there, to see after her brother's interests.

Expensive, gilt-edged paintings hung from the walls. The furniture was plush and comfortable, the coverings made of rich maroon velvet, matching the drapes at the two windows that were made of the same fabric.

Crystal vases caught the glitter of the rays of the morning sunshine pouring through the windows, taking on the look of sparkling diamonds. A grandfather clock made of beautiful mahogany ticked away against one wall. A foot-pedal organ sat against the wall opposite it.

“Go on, Hannah,” Chuck said, nodding toward her. “I'm going to rest, then play the organ for a while.”

“I won't be gone—” she began, then stopped when the sound of someone arriving on a horse drew her attention to the window.

“See who that is, sis,” Chuck said, stiffening. “Tiny shouldn't be back yet. He and some of the cowhands were supposed to be out checking the far pasture. I've lost a cow or two these past weeks.”

“Perhaps the Indians stole them?” Hannah said, walking toward the window.

“No. I don't think so,” Chuck said, rising from the chair. He stood with his back to the fire and leaned his full weight on his cane. “As long as deer, buffalo, and other wild animals roam this land, that's what the Potawatomis will eat. Naw, they wouldn't bother my cows. Anyhow, thus far, Strong Wolf and I see eye to eye on most things. I don't think he'd want to chance having me as his enemy by stealing my cattle.”

Hannah stepped up to the window and peered outside. “Is Strong Wolf a young warrior?” Hannah said, her gaze locked on the handsome Indian who had just reined in beside the hitching rail just outside of Chuck's house. She knew horses well from her love of them and recognized that the Indian's was a lovely bunched-muscled chestnut stallion.

“Yes, I'd say Strong Wolf is perhaps thirty,” Chuck said, slowly making his way across the room.

“Then, I think he's just arrived at your doorstep,” Hannah said, unable to take her eyes off the warrior. She had seen many Indians while living in Saint Louis.

She had even talked with some on the waterfront when they had come to trade. Because of this she had learned not to fear them.

Looking at this Potawatomis Indian made her knees feel strangely weak. Perhaps it was because he wore only a brief breechcloth that was only soft squares of buckskin, hanging from the waist in front and back by a belt. This attire somewhat unnerved her, for it did not leave much of his anatomy to her imagination. That shamefully excited her more than she wished to admit, even to her
self.

Strong Wolf had a fine-boned frame, a long, trim torso, and muscular thighs. He was powerfully built and sat tall in the saddle, with intense dark eyes. He had a firm, but almost sensuous mouth. The lean line of his jaw showed strength. He had a strong, determined face with hard cheekbones and flat planes. He carried his head high on a pair of well-knit shoulders. And his waist-length black hair was parted in the middle, a red band holding it in place.

“Come with me outside on the porch, Hannah,” Chuck said, breaking her concentration. “Let's see if it
is
Strong Wolf. If so, I wonder why? He rarely makes it a habit of coming to call. I usually go to him when something needs to be talked over.”

“How, Chuck?” Hannah said, turning to wait for him. “If you can't ride . . .”

“I'm not totally helpless, sis,” Chuck said, interrupting her. He frowned at her. “Whenever I have the need to leave my ranch, I travel by way of horse and buggy. Tiny, my foreman, usually accompanies me. Perhaps now
you
can if the need arises for me to go and speak with the Potawatomis leader.”

“Is he their chief?” Hannah asked softly.

“No, his grandfather is still chief,” Chuck said, squinting as he tried to see his feet while taking guarded steps across the room. “About a year ago, Strong Wolf led a portion of his Potawatomis people from Wisconsin to establish a village nearby. He told me that he will return one day to lead the rest of his people here. He came without them only because he wanted to be sure he could find land suitable to their needs. He found it here, on land that lies adjacent to my property.”

“His grandfather is chief?” Hannah said, still watching from the window, the handsome Potawatomis leader having not yet caught her gawking at him like some starstruck schoolgirl. “Does that mean that Strong Wolf will one day be chief?”

“Yes, after his grandfather passes on to the other side,” Chuck said, nodding. “Also, Strong Wolf told me that he was given his father's name, Sharp Nose, until he had a vision. His name was changed then, so that he would enter the chieftainship with the name Strong Wolf.”

“I see,” Hannah said, then remembering what her brother had said about her accompanying him to the Potawatomis village made her heart leap with excitement.

“I do hope that I can go with you to the Indian village,” she murmured.

Knowing that she would soon be eye to eye with the handsome Indian, Hannah's pulse raced. She went to the foyer with her brother, then the door. Her fingers trembled as she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned it.

She held the door open for her brother and watched his steps as he went out to stand on the porch, then followed him and stood beside him. Up close, she was taken even more by the Potawatomis warrior. He was so noble in appearance, so wonderful to look at.

When Strong Wolf's eyes met hers, Hannah grew strangely warm at the pit of her stomach. Her cheeks turned hot with a blush, for never had a man affected her in such a way.

She could even see something different in his eyes as he gazed at her. It was the way she would expect a man to look at her if he found her pleasant to his eyes.

“What brings you here this morning, Strong Wolf?” Chuck asked, squinting as he tried to make out Strong Wolf's features amid the shadows that his eyes saw now, instead of actual things.

Strong Wolf gazed at Hannah a moment longer before responding to Chuck's question. From afar these past few days he had watched her riding horseback. He had at once been taken by her free spirit.

And not only that. To him she was intriguingly beautiful, with her long, flowing golden hair, her well-rounded breasts, and her small waist and glowing cheeks.

Unlike any woman he had ever seen before, she was tall and slender like a reed, with a sublime, long neck. He was not disappointed when he saw her eyes were as green as the grass, vibrant, and filled with mystery, yet innocence. Her pale skin looked as smooth as a pebble or a carved stone.

Today she wore a pretty dress, fully gathered, with little puffed sleeves trimmed with lace that draped to the elbows.

Hannah was aware of how Strong Wolf was studying her, causing her to blush and look away. Could he possibly see something in her that he liked? she wondered to herself. Thinking that perhaps he did made her insides glow with strange feelings she had never experienced before.