Page 11 of Heart of the Storm (Hearts Over Wyoming #1)

Eleven

The loud chirping sound was incessant. At first, it seemed far away as if coming through a tunnel, but then it slowly increased in volume. Tessa ran from the sound, but it followed her, becoming louder still. All she wanted was peace and quiet to ease the throbbing in her head. No matter how far or fast she ran, however, the chirping followed. First one bird, then two, then several more.

A sharp pain twisted inside her as she ran. It, too, grew in intensity with each breath she inhaled. Then there were hoofbeats. Riders coming fast. Gunshots reverberated through the air, but the loud chirping of the birds almost drowned out the booms and echoes from the rifles.

“Zeke!” she yelled. “Shaky! Get down.”

But it was too late. Both Zeke and Shaky were lying on the ground, motionless, their eyes staring into nothing.

“No!” Tessa cried. She bolted straight up from a lying position but immediately cried out again as hot pain seared through her insides. She’d been hit by one of the bullets. She sank back onto the ground, forcing her eyes to open fully.

Fuzzy images and loud bird sounds made her head pound harder. Bright light flickered through the canopies of tall trees that rose into the sky. Tessa squinted against the blinding ribbons of sunlight that cast an ethereal glow around her. Massive rock formations rose among the trees.

Tessa groaned as she moved again, but the world seemed to press her down as her mind slowly pulled her into consciousness. Her heart hammered in her chest and the pain in her side intensified as she shifted.

She should be dead. Shaky…Zeke…they were both dead. Her heart twisted as their names echoed in her mind.

A surprise attack, but by whom? Visions lingered of Shaky floating in the creek. She’d tried to pull him out, but the swift attack had given her little chance.

Tessa drew in a sharp breath, gritted her teeth, then brought her upper body once more into a sitting position. She swayed slightly as dizziness made the world spin out of control. Once the motion stopped, she glanced down at the source of her pain. A bullet had hit her in the abdomen, right above her hip. The belt that always held her oversized cotton shirt together at her waist was gone, and the shirt was stained with blood.

She raised her hand to touch the area that throbbed with each breath she inhaled. When she slowly lifted the shirt for a better look, a sort of bandage made of leather was wrapped around her waist. There was more dried blood staining her skin, along with dried mud.

Tessa looked up again, blinking against the light. The birds that had infiltrated her dreams were still chirping. They were loud, happily announcing the new day, but no longer so loud that they filled her entire head.

She was alive.

But where was she? What had happened?

Tears filled her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. Father had never had any patience for the sight of his wife or daughters crying, and not since she’d been a little girl had Tessa allowed herself to shed a tear in front of him or anyone else. Her moment of weakness was clearly due to the frail state of her body and the feverish haze that continued to threaten to pull her under.

Beyond the pain in her side, tenderness and soreness threaded through every inch of her body, and her mind was slow to emerge from its foggy cloud. A soft fire crackled nearby, sending up the tangy smell of wood smoke. A horse snorted a short distance from the crude camp as it cropped at the tall grasses that grew along a trickle of water that seemed to flow straight out of the rocks.

Tessa blinked. Visions of Zeke and Shaky lying dead on the ground wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Everything had happened so fast. One minute, she was standing by the creek talking to Shaky, then in the next instant, he‘d fallen like a log into the water. No. First, they’d heard distant gunshots. Her brigade had been under attack, or so Zeke had thought. No doubt he’d been right. What else could the shots have meant? Then three riders had emerged from out of nowhere and started shooting at them. She’d fired back before she’d been hit herself, and one rider had fallen from his horse. Then what had happened?

Blurry images of the other two riders falling one by one from their horses before they could reach her and finish her off left her wondering if it had really happened. Then…a shadow had hovered over her. A familiar presence she’d felt once already, right before she’d come face to face with the man the trappers called Storm. That had been weeks ago. But his real name was Adrian Storm. He’d been there, and he’d –

Anger rose in her as swiftly as the throbbing pain that was shooting through her. She glanced around. Where was her rifle? Her pistol? Or any kind of weapon?

A twig snapped somewhere behind her. Tessa twisted, then gasped in pain. She pressed her hand against the throbbing area above her hip to brace against the agony.

“You shouldn’t move. The wound will bleed again.”

The deep, resonating voice coming closer from behind sent a shiver down her spine, but was it fear or something else? She’d had a similar reaction the first time she’d heard him speak, but that was before…

“You attacked me and my men,” she accused. Her raspy voice was not as strong as she would have liked. With her hand clutched to her side, she managed to move around enough on her rear to see the man who’d walked into camp. She’d much rather get to her feet, but that action proved impossible at the moment. Along with the pain, she was simply too lightheaded to attempt standing on her own.

Before she could slide enough to fully face Adrian Storm, he moved to stand in front of her, or rather, tower over her. He carried a bow in one hand, and a dead rabbit in the other.

“I heard you call out for your companions,” he said. “They’re dead.”

Tessa’s eyes narrowed. Damn her weakened state. The vulnerability of her situation weighed heavily on her shoulders as she lay on the ground, small and exposed, while he loomed over her like a bird of prey ready to strike.

“I know they’re dead,” she snapped. This time, she’d found her voice. “It’s your fault they’re dead. You and your warriors attacked us.”

Adrian Storm dropped the rabbit on the ground, then he knelt in front of her. Tessa’s breath caught in her throat. His face was inches from hers, and his dark eyes stared intently into hers. The urge to lean back to put some distance between them was almost unbearable, but she forced her back to remain straight and her glare to be unwavering. It would be a mistake to let him see the turmoil inside her or any hint of weakness.

“Your memory is weak, and it fails you right now,” he said, his words low and measured.

A new rush of anger shot through her chest like a blazing arrow. The pain in her side intensified with her fury, but it wasn’t the injury that sent her temper rising. It was the calm way in which he spoke and the casual insinuation that she wasn’t right in her head.

“No,” she spat, her voice growing stronger with each word. “My memory is just fine. You attacked us. You killed them! You attacked my men and murdered them! Just before your warriors shot Zeke and Shaky, I heard gunshots further ahead. You attacked my wagon brigade, too.”

The accusations flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. There was no reason to think he was innocent.

His eyes narrowed, and a flash of something she couldn't decipher passed over his face. Then, a quiet, controlled fury filled his gaze. “I had nothing to do with that attack.”

The air between them crackled with tension as her mind reeled. She clenched her fists at her sides. Her chest rose and fell with each controlled breath. If only she had her rifle handy.

“So, you just happened to come along while Indians were attacking us?” she said in a mocking tone.

At her words, he stood, putting some much-needed distance between them. His glare, however, intensified, as he once again looked down at her. “I was right. Your memory fails you. It wasn’t Indians who attacked you and your companions. It was white men, and I will venture to guess those same men attacked the men with the wagons, as well.”

Tessa’s mouth opened, but she had no words. White men? Other trappers had attacked her? Who…? She closed her mouth. The answer came instantly. She shook her head slightly. No. Would Victor Rattler really attack her brigade? Was his animosity toward her that great?

She lowered her gaze. Perhaps Adrian Storm was lying, but the intensity in his eyes was real. What reason would he have to lie? If he had been the one to attack her brigade, wouldn’t he be boasting about it, rather than denying it?

She lifted her chin to look up at him again. He hadn’t moved and was still staring.

“You killed the two riders who were coming toward me?” Her question was barely a whisper.

“You would be dead now, had I not seen the attack,” he said simply.

Tessa nodded. The truth in his words was in his eyes, and it was undeniable. He’d saved her life.

“What happened to my brigade?” Her voice cracked. She looked away. Why did he continue to stare at her? If only she could get to her feet and hide behind a tree for a while. He was making her feel weak; probably not intentionally, but his mere presence was overpowering. She needed to regain some semblance of control over her thoughts and emotions.

Adrian Storm –she wouldn’t think of him as the fierce war chief Todd Baronette had called Baa’koa – bent forward to retrieve the rabbit off the ground. Finally, he turned away from her. Tessa breathed a sigh of relief as if an invisible rope tied around her heart had been loosened.

Taking the rabbit, he lowered himself to the ground a short distance from the fire and began skinning and eviscerating it with quick and practiced ease. In no time, he had the carcass skewered on a stick, which he placed into the fire. Only when he was done did he look at her again.

“I had to get you to safety,” he said, his voice much lighter this time. “I don’t know what happened to the men or the wagons.”

He was holding something back. Tessa stared at his unflinching eyes. Perhaps he didn’t know exactly what had happened to the wagons, or Ike, or the others, but he knew something.

“I have to find out what happened to them. I have to get back.”

He smirked. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere right now. If you move too much, that wound might still kill you. Your body is still sick with the fever that accompanies such a wound. You need to rest.”

“I need to know,” she whispered. Was Ike dead, too? The rest of her men? What about her wagons and her priceless cargo of furs? Anger seethed in her veins, and her hand fisted into a tight ball. Victor Rattler had stolen her wagons and all her profit. Worse. He’d killed the men she’d come to know and respect. He wasn’t going to get away with it. Wounded or not, she had to know about the fate of the men.

“How do you know my name?” The question startled her. When she focused her eyes on him, he was staring at her once again.

Tessa’s brows rose. “What do you mean?” Had she called him by his name at some point in her feverish state? Maybe he was right, and her mind was weaker than she’d like to admit.

“When I carried you away from the site of the attack, you called me by my white name, Adrian Storm,” he clarified.

Tessa shifted on the hard ground. She pressed her hand against the area of her wound. Perhaps it was time to try to stand again. Before the thought was even complete, Adrian Storm was by her side. He leaned down, then one hand wrapped around her arm while the other curled around her middle – higher than where the wound was located – and brought her to her feet.

The quick action was unexpected and painful, but Tessa clenched her teeth together to prevent a groan. Her chest heaved as she found herself almost in an embrace with this half-nude man. The warm, clean scent of his skin, and the masculine strength of his arms around her, steadying her, nearly made her knees buckle.

She raised her chin slightly to look up at him. His eyes were on her, looking deeply into hers with uncertainty and indecision.

“You also said you knew me.” His quiet words rumbled in his chest, reverberating against her.

Tessa’s heart pounded in her ears. These indefinable emotions he caused in her had to be brought under control, but she was completely unable to stop her reaction to him. She’d never so much as expressed mild interest in a man before, yet this wild and feral stranger made her feel things that both frightened and exhilarated her to the core.

“I think you know me, too,” she whispered.

His frown deepened the color of his eyes. Finally, he released her but remained close as she gained her balance. The stars swirled in her head for a moment, then the world steadied, and she stood firmly on her own.

“How could I know you? I haven’t seen another white man…or woman, since I was a boy. Not until the trappers started coming onto the land of the A’aninin.” His words took on a bitter tone, and a flash of something intense, like hatred, gleamed in his eyes. The emotion was gone as quickly as it had appeared. If she had blinked, she would have missed it entirely.

Tessa tilted her head slightly. Todd Baronette had only given her a small amount of information about Adrian Storm. Now was her chance to find out more about him, ask him all those questions that had nagged her late into the night during the week at rendezvous. Why did her father think he was dead?

“Do you remember the town of River Bend?” she tested while keeping her focus on his gaze.

The slight twitch at the corner of his eyes revealed all she needed to know.

“Yes.” His cold voice confirmed, without emotion. “It is the place of my birth.”

“I grew up there,” she offered. “I think we met as children.”

Adrian’s eyes widened slightly. He raised his hand and pushed some hair from his face, then stepped away from her. He knelt by the fire and turned the rabbit to cook on the other side. When he didn’t move after he was done, Tessa tested her legs. She was weak, and the slightest movement brought a sharp pain.

She had to get stronger, and fast. She had to get back to her brigade, or at least the place where the attack had occurred. And then… then what? Had she lost everything she’d worked so hard to attain?

More importantly, though, had she lost her men? Were they all dead? She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that now. She had to get stronger first. For now, she had to rely on the help of a man she didn’t know if she could trust. Sharing a connection about their childhood with him was a start to persuading him to help her.

“I suppose you wouldn’t remember me,” she continued, staring at his back as he remained kneeling by the fire. She smiled and let out a quiet laugh. “You never said one word to me or my sister. I suppose I can understand. Were you upset about leaving your home to go into the wilderness with your father?”

He instantly tensed. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned. The fire blazing in his eyes made him look like a predator ready to strike and kill. Tessa started taking a step back but stopped and held her ground.

“Who are you?” he demanded in a low growl.

She raised her chin and smiled. “I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself. How rude of me.” She held out her hand. “I’m Tessa Beckett. I believe our fathers were friends.”

If the look in his eyes had been feral before, now it was downright menacing. His lip twitched, then curled in a predatory snarl.

“Beckett?” he spat. “Your father…his name is Calvin Beckett?” Unmistakable hatred spewed from his mouth as he said her father’s name.

“Yes, that’s right.” Tessa stared at him and his reaction. Her heart pounded again. A small nudge of fear prickled her skin.

Before she could say anything else, he lashed out, his voice laced with fury. “Your father killed mine. Had I known you were the daughter of the man who murdered my father, I would never have…” He let the rest of his thought hang in the air like a storm cloud ready to unleash its wrath.

Tessa’s eyes widened. Something heavy dropped into her stomach. This time, she did take a step back. She shook her head and laughed uneasily. “What? No. My father would never... Our fathers went into the wilderness together to trap. They were friends. Why would you say such a thing?”

In a lightning-fast move, Adrian Storm wrapped a hand around the top of her throat. His grip bit painfully into her skin. His eyes might as well have been daggers piercing into her heart.

“I watched with my own eyes as Calvin Beckett put a knife into my father’s gut.” His growl deepened. “When that wasn’t enough, he sliced my father’s throat to finish the deed. I could do nothing but watch. When Calvin Beckett looked up at me, I knew if I wanted to live, I had to run.” His voice broke with those last few words, raw with grief and anger.

With each word he spat, Tessa tried to shake her head. This time, she couldn’t hold back the tears that filled her eyes. Her body and mind were weak, she probably still had a fever, and now she was being assaulted with hateful words. Words that hit her like a physical blow.

“No,” she screamed. “You’re lying.”

His grip on her throat loosened. He almost shoved her aside. Tessa nearly fell but caught her balance in time. Her wound ached more than ever.

Adrian turned away, standing as rigid with his back to her as one of the tall lodgepoles.

She swiped angrily at tears she’d never allowed anyone to see. She needed to scream, to yell at him that he was wrong, that he was lying, but the look in his eyes before he turned away told the truth. Why would he make such an accusation if it wasn’t true?

His words, no matter how cruel, felt like a hammer smashing at her heart. All her memories of her father, of the man she had trusted and looked up to, started to fracture, bit by bit. Adrian had to be mistaken. There had to be another side to the story. Why, though, would her father have said that both Jacob and Adrian Storm were dead? The cold sensation of dread crept up her spine. Her father…a murderer? He was a harsh man, but…a murderer? No.

Tessa shook her head, her foggy mind groping to reconcile what Adrian had just said. “You’re lying,” she whispered in denial. It couldn’t be true. “My father... No. He couldn’t have…”

There was nothing left but silence. Only the crackling of the fire, and the birds chirping happily in the canopies high above. They seemed unfazed by what she’d just learned. Everything she’d known and worked for had been a lie.

“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know who to trust or believe anymore,” she murmured, her voice shaking with emotion, and she finally succumbed to her weak limbs and sank back onto the ground.