Page 9 of Heart of the Storm (Hearts Over Wyoming #1)

Nine

“The Missouri River Fur Company made a fortune, Miss Tessa.”

Ike grinned broadly from ear to ear as he rode his horse up alongside Tessa’s gelding. She smiled back at him, sitting straighter in the saddle.

“This rendezvous is going to be talked about for a long, long time,” Ike continued. “You mark my words. I heard others are already planning for next year to try what you pulled off. Competition is going to get fiercer than ever.”

Tessa stared off into the distance. A thin veil of mist rose from the creek they were following, shrouding some of the taller grasses in an eerie white, and covering the ground beneath the trees on the outskirts of the forest. The morning air was cool, but the sun was shining brightly over the jagged peaks of the Teton Mountains.

“Do you think we’ll be back next year?” she asked, more to herself than to Ike. “After he sees all the furs we are bringing back, Father might want to bring more than four wagons and even more supplies.”

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had done it. Against every expectation, even her own, she had more than succeeded. Bringing the wagons into the wilderness had seemed impossible to so many, but she had made it happen. The look on her father’s face when she returned home would be priceless.

Of course, the return journey was going to be just as strenuous as traveling west, but this time, she knew the terrain and what to expect. Not only would she return to St. Louis with profits the likes of which their company had never seen, but also the satisfaction that she wasn’t just bound behind a desk to keep the company’s books. She was capable of so much more. This success was her own.

Her grand plan couldn’t have worked out any better. All the goods she’d brought had been traded for beaver pelts. The wagons were weighed down with more beaver pelts than any brigade could bring back to St. Louis after a season in the mountains.

Just as she’d predicted when she’d formulated her plan all those months ago, trappers were eager for supplies, needed rations, and comfort items they couldn’t get in the mountains, and gladly traded their caches of furs for the things they needed. The Missouri River Fur Company had provided a service that saved the trappers a long journey to the city, which most of them avoided as much as they could. The furs were worth a fortune, just as Ike had said. Father would be so proud of her. He had to be.

A sense of accomplishment swelled in her heart, and there was nothing that was going to ruin her good mood. Not even Victor Rattler or Jim Ferguson. Many trappers and even some of the leaders of other company brigades had congratulated her for her entrepreneurial venture, but Rattler and Ferguson had been nothing but a thorn in her side the entire week at rendezvous.

Rattler had made his disdain clear every chance he could. As the days passed and her success grew more evident, his hostility had intensified, and he’d picked fights with some of her men. Josiah Butler and his crew had stepped in one time when Rattler had accused Shaky of deliberately tripping him. In an absurd exaggeration of the situation, he’d challenged the young kid to a duel.

“You can say whatever you want about me, Rattler, but leave my men alone,” Tessa had warned him after the incident. “Who knows? I might shoot you myself.” She’d walked away, not waiting to see his reaction to her bold words.

Rattler had taken every opportunity to call her spoiled and uppity, and accused her of belittling and taking advantage of every trapper at the gathering.

Jim Ferguson – the man she and her brigade had saved when he and his men had stumbled into their camp the days before reaching rendezvous – had sided with Rattler more than once, and the two seemed to have formed a kind of alliance. Ferguson was the sort of man who needed to cling to someone else to make himself appear brave and strong. On his own, he was a weasel and a coward. Alongside Rattler, he continued to accuse her of letting “that bastard Indian get away. When he attacks again, and more of us die because you let him slip away, the blood will be on your hands.”

Many of the trappers at rendezvous had heard of Storm, and some had been in skirmishes with his warriors or had known men who’d died in his raids. No one – other than Todd Baronette – seemed to realize that this Gros Ventre war chief was actually a white man. Not only that, but a man she’d met briefly when they’d both been children. She’d heard he and his father, Jacob Storm, had been killed.

After talking to Todd, Tessa had spent countless hours at night searching her mind for any memories of Adrian Storm. Her recollections were vague, and blurred in her memory. She recalled images of her father and Adrian’s father being friends, and they had travelled together into the wilderness when her father was just starting out as a trapper. The two of them had set off into the wilderness together, and Mr. Storm had taken his son with him. She’d been too young to remember any further details, except her father had moved Mama and her sister, Lydia, into the Storm’s small farmhouse, which had been no more than a crude cabin. When Father had returned nearly a year later, he’d said that Jacob Storm and his son had been killed.

Was this warrior she’d encountered the same Adrian Storm? Could there possibly be another by that name? His age certainly fit the timeline. The grown man, Adrian Storm, shared little resemblance to the quiet and shy boy that cropped up in her memories. Not that she’d ever interacted with him. He hadn’t ever spoken a single word to her or Lydia. The one thing Tessa did remember about him was that he seemed sad. Maybe he’d never wanted to leave the farm. She’d seen the grave of his mother on the property. Had he been close to her and was sad to be leaving her?

The thoughts had kept her awake at night. Her brief encounter with Adrian Storm, Indian war chief, haunted her in her sleep, and it replayed over and over in her mind. After Todd had told her that the warrior she’d encountered was a white man, she strained to remember little details about him that she’d clearly missed during that brief meeting, but the vision that stayed with her above anything else were those haunted, intense eyes of his and the way he’d stared at her, almost as if he was reaching straight into her soul.

Had he felt the same intense connection between them as she’d felt? Why had he not attacked her brigade? He’d said he was alone, but he could have returned later with his warriors. There would have been plenty of opportunities for an attack before they’d reached Pierre’s Hole. She might never know the answers to those questions, especially now that she was on her way home.

Home. She was eager to return home, but she’d miss the wilderness and her grand adventure. A small sense of regret haunted her. Regret that she’d never see Adrian Storm again or find out what had happened to him. Tessa smiled softly. Was that the only reason she would have liked to see him again? She shifted in the saddle and focused her eyes on the distant mountains. There were more important things to think about, and just like when she was a little girl, Adrian Storm would quickly become a distant memory.

At least now that the trapper gathering was over, she wouldn’t have to deal with Rattler and Ferguson anymore. Like many of the brigades from other companies, most of Tessa’s men had elected to go back to St. Louis with her, while a few had chosen to remain in the mountains to do some trapping of their own until fall. As a reward for their hard work, they’d all received a hefty bonus and had been outfitted with all the supplies they would need.

“You’ve made quite a reputation for yourself,” Ike’s words broke her train of thought.

Tessa turned her head to look at him as he rode next to her. “Oh? How so?”

Ike cleared his throat. “I can speak freely, now that the rendezvous is over. You’ve earned the respect and admiration of almost every man at that gathering, whether he was a trapper or a businessman.” Ike’s lip twitched in a smile. “Well, maybe not Rattler and his bunch, but the rest of them all saw your savvy business sense, especially with what you’ve accomplished by bringing these wagons.”

“Thank you, Ike.” Tessa sighed. “I just hope my father will feel the same way.”

Ike nodded solemnly. “He’s proud of you already, Tessa. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

Just then, her horse’s head bobbed up and down in an exaggerated motion, then again when the gelding took another step.

"Easy, boy," she murmured in a quiet tone and glanced down at the animal’s front legs. The horse snorted in response, clearly in some discomfort. Tessa dismounted. Her body still ached from the strain of the journey, despite having camped for a week. She patted the gelding on the neck, then squatted to feel his legs.

“Something’s wrong with Old Billy,” she said.

“Maybe he just stepped on a rock,” Ike offered.

“I hope that’s all it is. I’ll have to check.” Behind her, the wagons came to a stop and several men murmured.

“Keep the wagons moving,” Tessa called out. “My horse went lame. I’ll catch up after I tend to him.”

“You sure?” Ike said from atop his horse. “We can rest here for a spell.”

Tessa shook her head. “We have many miles to cover today. I don’t want to slow the wagons down.”

Ike stared at her with a stern look, then seemed to relent. He understood he wasn’t going to change her mind. “Shaky and Zeke,” he called out. “Stay with Tessa.” He paused for a moment, then looked at her again. “Do what you need to do about your horse. We’ll keep an eye out for you if you haven’t caught up by the time we make camp.” He nudged his horse, then led the caravan of four wagons and riders up the trail.

Tessa felt for heat along each of Old Billy’s legs, then picked up the gelding’s left front hoof.

“You’ve been a good and loyal friend, Billy,” she whispered. “You’re going to be fine.”

Zeke came up beside her, leaning over to inspect the hoof. “Looks like he stepped on a sharp rock,” he said.

With her finger, Tessa dug at the stone that was lodged in the groove of the horse’s hoof, but it didn’t budge.

“No wonder he went lame,” Tessa said. “That has got to hurt.”

“We’ll get it out,” Zeke assured her. He’d already pulled his knife from his belt. “Let me take a look.”

Tessa straightened to allow Zeke better access as he dug the stone out of the horse’s hoof. A small trickle of blood followed.

“Is he going to be all right?” Tessa stared at her employee.

“He’ll be fine. I had to cut away some of the hoof to get that stone out. We can pack it with some mud from the creek, and he’ll be right as rain in a day or two. Might be best not to ride him for a while, though. You can ride on one of the wagons until he’s mended.”

Tessa sighed. “Well, that’s better than having to shoot him.” Thoughts of having to put a bullet in her horse were unthinkable. “Let’s take him to the creek, then.”

Slowly, she led Old Billy to the creek they’d been following.

“Just stand in the cold water for a while, and then we’ll pack the hoof with mud. I’ve got some strips of leather to wrap it in.”

Shaky stood watch like a sentinel, cradling his rifle in his arms and turning in all directions every few minutes while Zeke doctored the horse. Being out in the open and without the rest of the brigade seemed to make Shaky more nervous than usual.

“We’ll catch up with the others in no time,” Tessa said to reassure him. “But I’ll have to walk and lead Billy, so we’ll probably meet them after they make camp.”

“You can ride my horse, Miss Tessa,” Shaky offered. “I can walk and lead yours.”

“Thanks for the offer, but a good walk might do my sore muscles some good.”

The creek gurgled softly, and crickets chirped loudly as the quiet breeze of late summer warmed the grasses and soil. The veil of mist had lifted, and it promised to be a warm day. Tessa inhaled the sweet scent of the prairie grass while Zeke finished wrapping Billy’s hoof in a leather bandage.

All of a sudden, something seemed off, something subtle that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Then it dawned on her. The tranquil sounds of crickets and birds around her seemed to have muted, leaving an uneasy silence in the air. Only the soft flow of water remained.

Tessa raised her head toward Shaky, whose posture had noticeably stiffened. Not a second later, the distant sound of gunshots reverberated through the air.

Tessa reacted without any thought. She rushed to her horse and pulled her rifle from the saddle.

“The wagons,” she called. “That came from up ahead.”

The wagons had to be a good mile or so ahead of them by now, but the sound of rifle shots carried far.

“Ya think it’s Indians attacking the brigade?” Zeke called. He was already mounted on his horse. “We gotta go help them.”

Tessa had no time to respond. Several riders appeared through the trees of the nearby forest, galloping straight toward them. She squinted to see better. Were they Indians? Her heart lurched in her chest.

”Get down!” Shaky called.

The distant gunfire continued to pierce the air while a louder, closer shot rang out. Shaky fell instantly, his body splashing heavily into the creek. Tessa’s head whipped around to see the young man’s body bob up and down in the water.

“Shaky!” she yelled and rushed into the water. She tugged on his arm to pull him out and onto the creekbank. Lifeless eyes stared up at her.

“No,” she whispered, then fury raged inside her. She raised her rifle and spun around, just as another shot rang out, then another. Zeke fired, but the aim and timing of an approaching rider was faster and more accurate. Zeke fell next to Old Billy, who sidestepped then ran off with Zeke and Shaky’s mounts.

Tessa dropped to the ground by the creek, the cold water already seeping into her clothes. She readied her rifle and took aim, but the glare from the sun prevented her from clearly visualizing the riders. Three horsemen were bearing down on her fast. She aimed and fired. One man fell from his horse.

Tessa scrambled to reload her rifle, but there was no time. The riders were coming toward her much too fast. She dropped the muzzle loader and pulled her loaded pistol from her belt. Before she could aim, a shot rang out. Searing pain exploded in her side that nearly paralyzed her. She pressed her lips together to suppress a cry. With an unsteady hand, she forced her arm to move so she could raise her pistol to fire, but the shot missed.

Her eyes blurred, and she fought against the sensation of passing out. She couldn’t move. Stars danced in her vision. The sharp smell of gunpowder lingered in the air. Tessa gasped as she fought to push herself upright and open her powder horn to reload her weapon, but pain scorched through her entire body as she shifted. The world spun for a moment. She gritted her teeth against the agony. She couldn’t simply lay still and die here.

Another shot rang out, sending dirt flying right next to her, but this time there was no pain. The shot had missed her by an inch. With trembling hands, she added powder into her rifle, but lifting it proved impossible. She collapsed forward and dragged herself toward cover among some taller grasses by the creek in an attempt to shield herself from another bullet.

Pain and confusion clouded her mind. Who was attacking her? Her vision was too blurred to make out the figures. The sound of hoofbeats was so close now, they’d be on top of her in another second. With a low grunt, she pushed herself forward and raised her head just as one of the riders fell from his mount within a dozen feet from her.

Where was the other one? Vaguely, her mind registered a horse galloping through the creek and another body falling to the ground next to Zeke, even though there hadn’t been any more gunshots.

A blur of motion appeared in front of her, casting a shadow over her and blocking out the sun. Tessa strained to keep her eyes open, but the blinding pain searing through her was taking its toll. She squinted to see a silhouette lean over her, like an overwhelming force of nature.

“Ike?” she whispered and raised her hand, but it instantly fell back to the ground.

The shadow moved in closer, now kneeling beside her. Its presence drew her in like a magnet, and an undeniably strong hand reached down to tug on her arm and rolled her fully onto her back. Something tightened around her middle where the pain was greatest.

Tessa couldn’t suppress a cry the forceful action caused. When she willed her eyelids open, she was staring into the dark eyes of a ghost. The man she’d seen before the rendezvous, the one who wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

“Adrian Storm,” she mouthed, but no sound escaped her lips.

“Can you stand?” he asked in perfect English. His voice was so much more commanding than before. “We need to leave here now.”

Tessa shook her head. “I…I can’t leave,” she croaked. “Zeke. Shaky. I…don’t need your help.” Anger mixed with the pain in her body. Anger that she was so vulnerable at the moment, and anger that this man – this…savage beast – had attacked her men.

A slight scoff came from his lips. “I’m not giving you a choice.” His tone was absolute as he lifted her into his arms.

Tessa’s last conscious thought became words she uttered under her breath.

“I know who you are, Adrian Storm.”