Wild Thunder Read online

  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 herself.

  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 na
me 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.

  Oh, Lord, had destiny brought her here to meet this man? she wondered. Had her father been led into the decision of sending her here because of some hidden force urging him to?

  Her heart was beating within her chest like the claps of wild thunder as she imagined being alone with this Potawatomis warrior, asking him his true reason for staring at her in such a way.

  Surely she was being foolish; he studied her because she was a white woman. Perhaps he saw her as . . .

  When he looked suddenly away from her and began talking in a cold tone to her brother, Hannah lost her train of thought and listened to his accusations about a dam having been built that was interfering with the lives of his people.

  “I know of no such dam,” Chuck said, stunned by the change in Strong Wolf’s behavior toward him. He had thought they had gained some respect between them, some camaraderie.

  But surely he had been wrong. Friends trusted one another. They gave each other the chance to delve into the truths of that which troubled one another.

  “You own this ranch, yet you do not know what is happening on its soil?” Strong Wolf said, dismounting his horse. His eyes occasionally moved to the woman, then forced them away again. He had come to get answers from this man. Not get caught up in feelings for a woman.

  “Yes, I do own the ranch and the pastureland that surrounds it,” Chuck said stiffly. “And I would be the first to admit that just perhaps I don’t know everything that goes on, as I should. I have a foreman. He is in charge of much that happens.”

  “This foreman. He is called Tiny?” Strong Wolf said, folding his arms across his chest as his jaw tightened at the remembrance of watching the tiny little white man roaming around too close to land that was, by treaty, the Potawatomis.

  “Yes, my foreman is a small man,” Chuck said, nodding.

  “Then you must order this man to remove the dam that he built across water that I secured for my people when I touched the goose quill to treaty papers with white leaders,” Strong Wolf said flatly. “My people are a home-loving group. They never seek fame in war. As you know, I will soon guide more of my people to this land of sunshine and blowing grasses. I seek peace in all things. But if I must fight for my rights in this new land, I will.”

  Strong Wolf stepped closer to the porch. “You must prove to me that you are no liar, that when you say you know nothing about a dam, you know nothing,” he said thickly, his face twisting. “I do not ever wish to believe that you are a wily, treacherous, and deceitful man who has been led into bad roads of life.”

  As Strong Wolf occasionally looked at Hannah, she was given the opportunity to see into his beautiful midnight black eyes. They seemed to look into her very soul.

  Thus far she had stood there and listened, not saying anything in the defense of her brother, for this Indian’s confidence as he talked so openly and fearlessly to her brother greatly impressed her.

  But being strong-willed and hardheaded, Hannah could no longer keep her silence. “I’ve heard enough,” she said, stepping between Chuck and Strong Wolf. “No one is going to talk to my brother like that. Not even you, Strong Wolf. My brother is an honest, God-fearing man. You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking otherwise!”

  She was aware of her brother giving off a gasp behind her. Her knees weakened as she stared at Strong Wolf, whose eyes were wide with obvious shock of seeing a lady interfering in business between two men.

  Suddenly Hannah was no longer as confident when his eyes narrowed into hers. Fear grabbed her at the pit of her stomach. Yet she stood her ground and lifted her chin, defying him with a set stare, willing her eyes not to waver.

  “And who is this woman?” Strong Wolf suddenly blurted out. He took one step sideways so that he was again face-to-face with Chuck. He had never before seen a forward woman. He was not so repelled and angered by it as he was impressed.

  “This is my sister Hannah,” Chuck said, still in a partial state of shock over Hannah speaking up in such a way. Yet shouldn’t he have expected it? She had always been outspoken. And he never held that against her. She had always been able to fight her own battles in life.

  Except for when their father had placed her in the convent. He had worried about that stifling her spirit. He knew now that had not happened.

  “Hannah?” Strong Wolf said, turning slow eyes her way again.

  She smiled sheepishly at him, then turned quickly away and watched Tiny as he approached on horseback toward them.

  “Who is that, Hannah?” Chuck asked, squinting his eyes, trying to see.

  “Tiny,” Hannah said, glowering at the tiny man.

  “Just the man I need to see,” Chuck said.

  Tiny dismounted and stepped around Strong Wolf, their eyes locked in silent battle. He went on the porch and stood beside Chuck.

  “Chuck, what’s he doin’ here?” Tiny grumbled, nervously fingering a rust-colored mustache. Freckles were thick on this thin, weather-beaten face. His wide-brimmed Stetson hat was sweat-stained. His chaps were briar-scratched.

  “Tiny, Strong Wolf says he found a dam built across a stream that belongs to him,” Chuck said, his voice guarded. “You did it, didn’t you, Tiny? No one else would.”

  “I had help, if that’s what you mean,” the tiny, redheaded man said, sneering as he gazed at Strong Wolf.

  “You know you’re wrong, don’t you, Tiny?” Chuck said, his voice sounding tired.

  “I had to,” Tiny argued. “It’s necessary for the operation of the gristmill that has recently been built at the ranch.”

  “Tiny, destroy the dam,” Chuck said, heaving a deep sigh. “We can find other ways to run the gristmill.”

  “But, Chuck, this is the only way,” Tiny argued.

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nbsp; “Tiny, we don’t want no trouble with the Potawatomis, now, do we?” Chuck said impatiently.

  “You’d think they’d understand,” Tiny grumbled.

  “The dam you built has interfered in my people’s lives,” Strong Wolf said, not allowing this man to sway the rancher against the decision that he had already made. “When the hunt for game is slow, then fish in the stream is good for my people’s cook fires. The dam must be destroyed. And that is my last word. It is final.”

  Chuck turned to Tiny, his jaw tight. “Remove the dam, damn it,” he growled out. “Remove it immediately.”

  Strong Wolf breathed in a slow, quivering breath. He was glad that this confrontation was settled with the landowner, yet he did see a troubled path ahead with the tiny man. He could see the rage in the depths of his gray eyes as Tiny continued to glare at him. Strong Wolf could see how he clasped and unclasped his hands into tight fists at his sides.

  Yes, this was a man who would not accept defeat all that easily. But Strong Wolf was a much better man than he, and would never let the man best him.

  Confident that the dam would be removed and that he had been wrong to test the waters of friendship with this landowner, who until now had offered him friendship, Strong Wolf gazed intensely at Chuck.

  “Friends still?” he said, squaring his shoulders.

  “Yes, friends still,” Chuck said, nervously clearing his throat.

  Strong Wolf turned slow eyes to Hannah. “Friends?” he said, his eyes locking with hers.

  Hannah’s whole insides melted when she met his direct, intense gaze. Her knees weakened as she reached a hand out toward him. “Yes, friends,” she murmured, her heart leaping when he placed his powerful hand in hers and shook it.

  Tiny emitted a disgusted groan from the depths of his throat, then stalked away. Day by day his hate for the Potawatomis was growing inside him. And today was the last straw! His schemes, thus far, to discourage these Indians from staying in this area had not been severe enough. The Indians’ farmland was thriving. Their people were well and happy. Yes, he must turn to more severe measures to change this.