Page 13 of Heart of the Storm (Hearts Over Wyoming #1)

Thirteen

The forest had closed in around them again, the trees leaning in like silent sentinels, shrouding everything in a dense blanket of green. The air was thick with moisture, and the earth beneath her feet was spongy and slick from the steady drizzle they’d experienced most of the day. The smell of wet leaves and fresh moss clung to the dampness, and every step was a gamble. She’d rather die than admit it, but her wound was throbbing worse than it had in days.

She’d been forced to sit in a makeshift, crude camp for three long days with nothing to do but think about Ike and the others, and whether they were still alive. Her physical discomfort hadn’t been enough to keep her from leaving, no matter how much Adrian had insisted she wasn’t ready.

Each day had pushed her closer to the edge of frustration. She’d refused to sit around any longer. She needed to know what had happened to her brigade. The longer she’d remained idle, the more her patience had worn thin. On the morning of the fourth day, she’d had enough.

“We’re leaving. Today,” she’d announced with a tone of finality, the moment Adrian had returned from his morning hunt. He’d always left camp before she was awake, and had always come back with some animal he’d killed. He’d been predictably reliable, but she’d become more restless each day.

"Or, should I say, I'm leaving. Perhaps you’ve changed your mind about helping me." she’d added, letting the words linger just enough to make him pause.

He’d paused to stare at her. He’d visibly stiffened at her words, but she wasn’t going to back down, not this time. Without saying a word, he’d gone to clean the two rabbits he’d brought back.

“Did you hear me, Adrian?” she’d called after him. He’d turned then, staring at her with those deep eyes that always seemed to make her heart pound a little faster.

"I told you –" he’d growled, but she’d cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Yes, I know. Don’t call you Adrian, but it’s your name, after all.” Irritating him about his name had given her a small measure of satisfaction over the long days. He may have chosen to live as an Indian, but in her eyes, he was a white man…a very attractive one at that, even if he was easily mistaken for an Indian from afar.

“We leave today,” he’d finally said, rather than continue the argument.

Shortly after breaking camp, the rain had started to fall and had remained a steady drizzle. Her cotton shirt clung to her like a second skin, and she shivered from the cold.

“You knew it was going to rain, didn’t you?” she called out. They’d been walking along in silence for too long. Ahead of her, Adrian was leading his horse and seemed to be unfazed by the cold, wet conditions. He’d insisted she ride earlier in the day, but sitting on a horse had proved to be more painful than walking.

Adrian didn’t stop when she called out to him, but he turned his head to glance over his shoulder. A rare smile passed over his lips before he looked straight ahead again. Tessa’s eyes narrowed.

Her side still ached with every movement. The dull throb of her wound reminded her that she wasn’t as strong as she liked to think, but she definitely couldn’t allow Adrian to see her weakness.

They’d been traveling for hours, yet the forest seemed to go on forever. Adrian had clearly taken her far away from where the attack on her brigade had occurred. He’d been following some invisible trail that hopefully led out of the canyon and down into the valley below, which was not yet visible.

The trail started to slope down, and the ground beneath her became more treacherous, especially with all the moisture. The sound of rushing water cut through the air. Tessa squinted. The trees finally opened into a clearing, revealing a torrent of water as it crashed out of the mountains. It was wide, fast, and churning with a violent urgency from all the rain.

Up ahead, Adrian finally stopped. His horse, a pretty tan and white colt, stood beside him with its hooves sunk deep into the earth.

Tessa came up beside Adrian. Her gaze followed his, and her stomach sank. It was bad – worse than she’d anticipated. The water was swollen and raging, crashing against jagged rocks that jutted out like a snarling dog’s teeth. She took a step back. The thought of crossing that – of risking her life – twisted her insides into a knot.

“We’re crossing this?” The contempt slipped out before she could stop it, a defense against the fear she refused to acknowledge. She took a step back. Her hand pressed against her aching side.

“We have no choice,” Adrian said as if crossing treacherous water was an everyday activity for him. He pointed across the river. “We have to go that way, and the only way to get there is across the water.”

“You can’t seriously be suggesting this,” she muttered. “That’s too dangerous.”

Adrian looked at her. A faint smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Are you saying you’re afraid?” he challenged.

Tessa shook her head, then quickly swiped at the water dripping from her hair into her eyes. Of course, he knew she was lying.

To his credit, he didn’t mock her, but said, “The current won’t be as strong once we reach the valley.” He cast her a searching glance. Was that concern in his eyes as his gaze slowly drifted over her? Drops of water slid down his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw.

Tessa hugged her arms around herself to control the slight shiver that rolled down her spine. She tore her eyes away from the man who stood so at ease in front of her looking more rugged and handsome than ever. At least the relentless drizzle had finally stopped, and the sun was peeking out through the clouds ahead. It wouldn’t do much to warm her, though.

“You will cross it,” he said, his voice a quiet command. “Or you won’t reach the place where you last saw your companions.”

Tessa’s jaw tightened at his little jab. He knew she’d cross the river, even if it killed her. Why did he have to be so certain of everything, even her?

“Right,” she said, drawing out the word. “Because if I drown, you’ll be rid of me and won’t have any blood on your hands.”

Could she blame him for hating her? If her father had done the unthinkable by murdering Jacob Storm, he had every reason to hate her. To his way of thinking, she was guilty because she was Calvin Beckett’s daughter.

Part of her refused to believe any of what Adrian claimed. But if it was true… there were no words to say to Adrian. No apology could express her feelings about what had happened to his father at the hands of hers. Jacob Storm’s death wasn’t her fault, but the guilt rested heavily on her shoulders.

Adrian’s eyes met hers, and for the briefest moment, there was a flash of something – anger, concern, maybe even frustration. The heat of it seemed to crackle the air between them, and she almost couldn’t breathe with the sudden tension around her.

“I don’t wish your death,” he said. “Despite the blood that flows in your veins.”

Something in her chest tightened – an unexpected tug she couldn’t explain – but she refused to show it. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest, looking at the river again. “Maybe you’ll have to carry me across, Adrian .” The words were sharp and deliberately grating. She watched him tense up with a flash of irritation in his eyes and couldn’t help but smile.

His jaw clenched and the muscles in his neck stood out like cords. “My name is Baa’koa.” As if he needed to remind her again.

Tessa grinned, watching the brief struggle for composure flicker across his face. It amused her more than she cared to admit.

"You can deny it all you want, but you are Adrian Storm, even if you grew up among the Gros Ventre.”

Wordlessly, he turned away from her and continued down the slope toward the looming river. It took at least another half hour to reach the valley floor and the obstacle they had to cross. The water wasn’t as foreboding as it had been when it roared down the mountain, but the rains had definitely made the river higher than normal.

Adrian stopped at the river’s edge. Deep in thought, he scanned the water. Finally, he turned to her. “Get on my horse. He will carry you across safely.”

“And you?”

“I’m not injured, and I can swim if I need to. You won’t be able to ford this water on your own.”

She nodded, but her heart raced in her chest. A lot could go wrong during a river crossing. She needed to rely on his help, and he knew that would be difficult for her. Perhaps his taunt was just his way of giving her back a taste of her own medicine.

Without a word, he reached for her and lifted her onto his horse’s back. A small gasp escaped her lips at the unexpected move. At least she didn’t cry out in pain. That would have only proven that she wasn’t physically ready for a river crossing without help.

“Hold tight to his mane,” he said, then led the horse into the river. Tessa wrapped her legs around the animal’s ribs and twisted fistfuls of mane around her hands. The rush of the water grew louder, and the horse’s muscles bunched beneath her as the colt strained against the current.

Adrian remained by the horse’s side as he led him across. The cold water reached the horse’s underbelly and filled Tessa’s shoes. Soon it was up to her ankles. Adrian was more than waist-deep in the water, but his steps didn’t falter. The current forced them across at a sharp angle, but neither the horse nor Adrian took a bad step. Tessa expelled a long sigh when the colt lurched forward and onto the opposite bank of the river.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” she said with false cheer. Relief swept over her that they’d made it without a mishap. She glanced over her shoulder at the water.

This hadn’t been her first, nor would it be her last river crossing; but this time, she’d felt safer than ever. The man beside her had been her steady support, like a rudder guiding her safely across.

Evening settled in around them. Adrian had chosen to make camp before the sun had fully set. Tessa hadn’t asked why they couldn’t go further, but she’d guessed the reason was because he thought she needed to rest. He wasn’t wrong, but she’d never admit it. Her wound throbbed, and the rest of her was weak from the injury.

She would have preferred if he’d built a much larger fire, but her clothes were finally drying out enough so that she no longer shivered. Adrian had shot several prairie grouse on the way, and they were now roasting over the flames. This had been the first time she’d seen him hunt, and the expert way he handled his bow and arrows had been impressive.

Tessa huddled as close to the fire as possible and stared into the flames. Her body was fatigued and her wound hurt, but she forced her eyes to remain open rather than slipping into sleep. Her mind was too full of thoughts about the day, but mostly about Adrian and the conflicting feelings he sparked in her.

“You’re quiet.”

His unexpected words startled her. She blinked, then moved her gaze to see him looking at her intently from across the fire, as if he’d been studying her for some time.

“I would think you would be happy about that,” she said. Her fatigue was evident in her voice, even to her.

“After you eat, you need to sleep,” he suggested while checking the birds for doneness.

“I was thinking, not falling asleep.” She smiled. “I was thinking how much you don’t like me calling you Adrian.”

He didn’t respond, but his annoyance was palpable, even across the fire. Then, to her surprise, there was a slight curve to his lips. It was gone almost instantly. Perhaps she’d been mistaken and had simply wished he’d smile.

After removing the cooked birds, Adrian added more wood to the crackling fire. Silently, he handed her one then returned to his place on the other side of the flames as if they provided a safety barrier. The weight of the silence between them grew heavier. She nibbled at the food and watched the embers from the fire rise and disappear into the dark evening sky.

With nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, her mind wandered back to her childhood and that tiny farmhouse that had once belonged to Adrian and his family. She imagined she was staring at a fire in the hearth that had offered no warmth or comfort.

Across from her, Adrian’s gaze was lost somewhere in the distance. His posture was rigid. Did he ever think about his childhood and the home he’d left behind? He was a man caught between two worlds, two lives.

The sounds of the evening grew louder while the silence between her and Adrian became louder until it was unbearable. Her thoughts slipped from her mouth before she could stop them, helping to break the silence.

“All I wanted was to make my father proud,” she murmured, her voice almost swallowed by the crackling of the fire. She didn’t look at Adrian, not at first. He might not have even heard.

When she stole a glance, the firelight danced over Adrian’s features, making his expression unreadable. He said nothing, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and for some reason, it encouraged her to keep going. She needed to say the things she’d never wanted to say out loud before because she’d ignored the truth all her life.

“I don’t think he ever wanted children,” she continued. “Certainly not daughters. I’m not even sure he wanted a son. But after my mother and sister died of the fever, he had no choice but to pay attention to me.” She paused, blinking against the sting in her eyes, but she refused to let any tears fall. Not now. Not in front of Adrian.

He shifted slightly, his jaw tightening as if the words had pierced something inside him. Still, he remained silent, his eyes fixed on the fire. Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She needed to ease the load within her head.

“He didn’t know what to do with me,” she said, her voice thick with unspoken pain. “I was too young for him to marry off to some stranger, so I lived with Agnes and Mortimer Fairbanks. Maybe you remember them?”

Adrian’s shoulders tightened, a flicker of something dark passed through his gaze. He didn’t respond with words, but there was a subtle nod.

“I didn’t want to live with them,” she continued, her tone growing quieter. “But I didn’t have a choice. They were kind to me, though. They had no children of their own. They saw me as their last chance at family.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “I helped on their farm... but I hated it. I always enjoyed figures and writing. I’m good with numbers. I certainly didn’t want to stay on a farm for the rest of my life.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment as the fire crackled between them. She could see the darkness of Adrian’s eyes on her through the flames. Without words, he was letting her know to keep talking

Tessa shifted on her haunches. “I begged my father to let me work in his business. All those years he was gone most of the time, trapping. One year, he started his own fur company, and it was quite successful.”

The fire flickered in Adrian’s eyes at the mention of her father, but she didn’t let the growing animosity he displayed stop her.

“He finally let me keep his books.” She scoffed. “He might be a good trapper, but he’s a terrible businessman. Bringing wagons into the wilderness was my idea.” A sense of pride filled her. “I knew it would work. I knew it would be profitable for the company. I was right. And now…” Her voice faltered, and the weight of her failure crushed her chest. “Now, I don’t even have that to show for my efforts. I’ve lost the wagons, and I’ll be going home empty-handed. Worst of all, I lost my men.”

Tessa’s voice cracked. Her heart ached for the courageous men in her brigade. Adrian was still silent, but he’d been listening. Maybe he saw her as something more than the daughter of the man who had murdered his father, even if it was only out of pity.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she muttered, almost to herself. “It doesn’t matter. I guess I just needed to say it, to let it out. I can’t change any of it.” She paused, then stared at him. “I wish I could change what my father did to yours, and what happened to you as a result.”

Across from her, Adrian’s features shifted. The hard lines left his face, and the tension visibly eased from his shoulders.

“What happened to me after my father, Jacob, was murdered, was a good thing,” he said. His voice was calm, not filled with anger. “I’ve led a good life with the A’aninin, the people you call Gros Ventre. I was adopted into a new family. I had a brother, Nahko’tah, and a father who taught me most of what I know, Matso’onah.”

Tessa held her breath, eager to hear more about Adrian’s life with the Indians. When he didn’t offer more, she asked, “I’m sure your father and brother are wondering where you are.”

The tension in him was back instantly. His eyes clouded with pain, then the familiar anger. “They are both dead,” he said.

The words fell like a heavy rock. Tessa swallowed back the lump that formed in her throat. “No,” she whispered. The urge to reach out to him and take his hand engulfed her, but the fire was between them.

“I lost a father. Not once…but twice,” he said, his voice raw. “And I lost my brother. All of them were killed in unprovoked attacks by white trappers.” He spat the last words.

Tessa froze. Her heart squeezed in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to open up, not like this. She looked at him, trying to read his face, but the anger in his voice conveyed his pain.

“And that’s why you started raiding and attacking brigades of trappers,” she guessed.

He didn’t deny it. “I haven’t found the men who killed Matso’onah and Nahko’tah, but I will,” he growled.

The crackle of the fire grew louder in the silence that followed. Tessa blinked as the sting behind her eyes grew stronger.

She didn’t fight it when a tear trickled down her cheek, and she whispered, “I’m so sorry for all you’ve lost, Baa’koa.”