Wild Thunder

Book 2: Wild Series

by Cassie Edwards

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

"A shining talent!" -- RT Book Reviews New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cassie Edwards tells a sweeping tale of fateful love, forbidden, yet undeniable. . . Hannah Kody came to her brother's ranch in the Kansas Territory to be his eyes, as his sight was failing fast. Yet his misfortune couldn't dim the joy she found in the wide vistas of the Western plains. And the excitement she found in the presence of Strong Wolf. The future chief of the Patawatomis stood tall and proud, and Hannah dreamed she had traveled there to meet him. . . But for Strong Wolf, Hannah was supposed to be the enemy, allied not only to the settlers he distrusted, but to the brutal foreman of her brother's ranch. He felt only sorrow could come of their attraction, until the day Hannah rode to his lodge, fell into his arms, and launched a journey neither had the desire to deny...

Release date: August 1, 2015

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 384

Sample

Saint Louis, Missouri—1853

The small room was dark and airless. There were no mirrors. There was no dressing table. The sparse furnishing consisted of only a bed with a lumpy mattress, a bedside table on which sat a kerosene lamp, and a hard-backed chair. The only window was at the very top of the room, near the ceiling, purposely giving no one access to it.

Feeling like a caged panther, Hannah Kody paced the room nervously, the long skirt of her black dress tangling around her legs as she made her swift turns.

She stopped and looked up at the window. Outside white puffs of clouds floated across a brilliant blue sky. The sun was straight overhead. It was noon. Soon someone would come and break the silence that was near to driving her mad.

“Isolation.” Hannah breathed out in a low, agitated whisper. “I’ve been put in isolation!”

She ran her fingers through her flowing waist-length golden hair. Never would she part with her hair! She would not allow anyone to chop it off, almost to her scalp. She was in a convent in Saint Louis, Missouri, not of her choosing. So she was certainly not going to part with her hair only because it was the rule of the convent to do so. It was required of all young women who entered the teachings of becoming a nun.

“Hah!” she whispered, and begin pacing again. “Just let them try. Even if I have to stay in isolation until hell freezes over, I won’t part with my hair.”

Hannah had been called a tomboy all of her life and hadn’t minded it. But she didn’t want to have short hair like a boy! She had always treasured her long, flowing golden hair. As she saw it, it was the only thing beautiful about her.

She knew that she was tall and lanky. There was nothing she could do about that.

But she could certainly make sure nothing happened to her only asset—her hair!

“Mother, Father,” she agonized in a whisper. “Why did you do force this sort of life on me? I don’t want to be a nun!”

Of course she knew their reason, and had fought them every inch of the way. But, due to her father’s bullheaded determination to change her into a lady, she had lost the battle. He had said that if her very own parents couldn’t tame her tomboyish ways, surely the sisters at the convent could!

Hannah had been there only a short time, but it had seemed an eternity. And as far as she was concerned, nothing about her had changed, except for making her even more rebellious than before.

“I’ll show them,” Hannah whispered. She plopped down on the chair in an unladylike manner, her legs widespread, the skirt hiked up past her knees. “I’ll make them want to send me away. They will grow tired of battling me as I stubbornly fight for my rights.”

She gazed up at the window again and daydreamed that she was riding on a horse in a wide-open meadow, the ground dotted with a beautiful tapestry of wildflowers.

Her hair was blowing in the wind.

The horse was galloping hard, its mane flying.

If she closed her eyes even now, she could smell the horseflesh. She could feel the wind and sun against her face. She could capture that wonderful feeling of freedom!

The sound of a key being placed in the lock of the door drew Hannah back to the present. She eased up out of the chair and backed against the wall in the deeper shadows. Although she suspected that someone was bringing her dinner, she never knew for sure whom to expect to walk through the door. Every nun in the convent had tried to scold her into obedience. But all had turned away, sighing, or whispering beneath their breaths some small prayers for her salvation and forgiveness.

Hannah could scarcely feel the beat of her heart as she watched the doorknob turn. Although hungry for food and company, and hoping that food was just outside the door, she did not look all that forward to eating. She had not only been placed in isolation, she had been given small portions of food, and nothing tasty.

Nor had she had a cup of tea or coffee since she had been in isolation. She had been on a ration of water.

When the door slowly opened and Hannah could smell a familiar perfume, that which her mother wore, her eyes widened. She gasped softly when her mother and father entered the room. She became numb, for surely they had been told about her being so uncooperative, and had come to shame her into obedience.

“Hannah,” her mother said, moving in a dignified glide across the room in her lace-trimmed, pale blue velveteen dress, her arms outstretched toward Hannah. “My sweet darling. How could they treat you this way? Never would I have expected this or I would have fought much more aggressively your father’s decision to place you here.”

Hannah welcomed her mother’s soft hug. Ah, but she was such a short, petite woman, someone Hannah would have loved molding herself after. But she had inherited her father’s tall height, his lankiness.

She returned her mother’s embrace, relishing the familiar aroma of her mother’s French perfume, yet watching her father over her mother’s shoulder as he stood just inside the room, somber.

He was dressed in an expensive dark suit, a diamond stickpin glittering in the folds of his ascot at his throat. His long legs were stiff as he slowly rocked back and forth on his heels while staring back at Hannah with his piercingly dark eyes, those which she had most definitely not inherited. Hers were green, as green as spring grass, like her mother’s.

She could smell the cigar scent of her father, yet even that could not hide the overpowering smell of medicine that clung to him and his clothes, which he acquired from his daily medical practice. He was a well-known surgeon. He had wanted Hannah to follow in his footsteps.

She had refused. She wanted no part of attending medical school. And she most certainly didn’t want to be imprisoned by hospital walls, reeking of medicine herself, day in and out.

For so long it had been Hannah’s dream to train show horses. Until her parents had interfered, she had been working with a trainer, learning his skills.

Unlike her older sister, who was a senior in college, and her brother, who now owned a ranch—thanks to their rich father, who had backed both their ambitions—Hannah had vowed never to accept her father’s “charity” by him giving her a start in a career, especially one not of her own choosing.

She wanted to pay her own way—earn her keep.

She didn’t want to be beholden to anyone, especially not her overbearing father, the Howard Kody, whose name was known throughout the midwest for his skills at doctoring.

“Hannah,” her father said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Grace and I have come to take you from the convent.”

Hannah was taken aback by what he said. She eyed him speculatively as her mother moved to her side.

“Father, what did you say?” she gulped disbelievingly. Could it be true? she wondered anxiously. Could he actually care enough for her feelings that he would end this charade that he had forced on her? Did he truly care for her so much that he would put her feelings before his?

“I said we’ve come to take you from the convent,” Howard said, then had no time to say anything else. Hannah rushed across the room and flung herself into his arms. It had been a long time since she had been given any reason to hug him. She had not known until now how much she had missed his powerful arms around her, his breath stirring her hair as he leaned his cheek into it.

They embraced for a moment longer, then Howard gripped Hannah by her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

“Thank you, Father,” Hannah said, tears streaming from her eyes, now realizing he cared so much for her. She even felt somewhat guilty for having disappointed him.

“Grace, get Hannah’s things together,” Howard said, nodding toward his wife of thirty years. “Then we’ll go and try and clear things up with Sister Kathryn. We’ve got to make her understand why this had to be done. When she hears that our son is going blind, and that this is the only reason we are taking Hannah from the convent, she will understand.”

“Yes, she’ll understand that a sister’s place is with a brother at times like this,” Grace said, going to take a satchel from beneath the bed. “Hannah is needed there, to see after his best interests, especially since we can’t stay with him. And Chuck most certainly will not leave his ranch to live with us.”

Hannah paled. She looked in jerks from her father to her mother, then back at her father, her eyes wavering. She had been wrong to think that her father had had a change of heart for her sake. He was taking her from the convent for someone else. Not for her, or her feelings!

She wrenched herself free of her father’s grip. She glared at him and wiped the tears from her eyes as she squared her shoulders.

Yet she couldn’t find the words to tell him how he had just let her down again, as he had so often in her life.

Then his words about her brother sank in. Blind? Her brother was going blind?

“How bad is Chuck?” Hannah blurted out, now feeling guilty for having thought of herself, when all concerns should be centered on her brother.

“His eyesight is quickly failing him,” Howard said solemnly. “Damn it all to hell, anyway. He has followed his dreams to the Kansas Territory, established a ranch, and now this.”

“Will he go totally blind?” Hannah said, her heart aching over her dear brother’s misfortune.

“Seems so,” Howard said, then turned to Grace when she brought Hannah’s satchel to him.

“Father, Mother said something about me looking after Chuck’s best interests,” Hannah said, swallowing hard. “What does that mean? That I am going there? To live with him?”

“Yes, Hannah.” Howard nodded. “You will be his eyes.”

“His . . . eyes . . .” she said more to herself than to her parents. She weighed this in her mind. She wanted to find the good in how her life would change again.

Yes, she was jubilant to leave the convent. And in Kansas she would be able to ride horses in the open range. She would be as free as the wind, to do as she pleased; the outdoors had always beckoned to her, as if it were her lover.

But she could not allow herself to be jubilant over her quickly changing future, and that in her brother’s misfortune came a beacon of light for her. She was deeply saddened over her brother’s worsening condition.

“Do you mind traveling to Kansas, dear, to help your brother in his time of need?” Grace asked, placing a gentle hand to Hannah’s cheek. “You and Chuck have always been close. It will delight him to have you with him.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Hannah said.

Then she stepped away from her mother and turned glittering, mutinous eyes to her father. “But I wish just once that I could be allowed to make my own decision about something,” she blurted out. “I am eighteen, you know.”

“And so you are,” her father said, sighing. “And so you are.”

She inhaled a quivering breath, then left the room with her parents.

After bidding a good-bye to Sister Kathryn, Hannah left the convent with a wild, thumping heartbeat. She could hardly wait to board the riverboat that would take her to the Kansas Territory. She would be with her brother again. And without her parents or the sisters there to dictate her every move, she would finally know the true meaning of the word freedom.

For the first time ever, her life would be hers, to do with as she pleased!

Two Weeks Later, Kansas Territory

“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 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 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.

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.. . .