Tender Is the Storm

by Johanna Lindsey

  "Well, I wouldn't want you to do that, Lucas." She giggled.

  She turned away to straighten her clothes while Lucas went out into the other room. When she joined him, she was surprised to see Samuel Newcomb. Mack was with them, and another man.

  Mack held out a letter to her. "Hope there was no trouble, ma'am," he said. "Didn't think I'd be gone so long, but I got sidetracked by an old coot I ain't seen in twenty years. We had us some reminiscin' to do."

  Sharisse hardly heard him. She felt funny all of a sudden. Here was what she had anxiously been wait­ing for, her letter. But all she could think about was Lucas. Here was her escape, but there was Lucas. The sudden thought of never again feeling his won­derful hands bringing her body to life brought on panic.

  "Will you excuse me, gentlemen, for a few min­utes? I have been waiting a long while for this let­ter."

  "Sharisse!"

  Lucas was annoyed at her rudeness in ignoring their guests, but she couldn't wait. "I'll only be a minute, Lucas," she assured him, and fled to her room.

  Dearest Rissy,

  You can't imagine how difficult it has been for me to find a way to get this letter to you. I have been denied my freedom and denied visitors as well. But Mrs. Etherton has taken pity on me, and she promises to help sneak Trudi into the house for a visit, so I will give this to Trudi to post. I didn't dare ask one of the servants, for they would tell Father.

  Rissy, it has been awful here. With you gone, the full brunt of Father's anger had fallen on me, and I'm afraid neither of us realized just how angry he would be. He has cut me off from everything. I can't go anywhere or see anyone. Even the ser­vants aren't supposed to talk to me. And I haven't been able to see Joel once! Not even when Father had him and Mr. Parrington over to explain your "illness." That is what he was telling all our friends, that you were ill and the wedding would be postponed for a while. But that was when he thought he would have you back soon. So much time passed that he's had to tell Joel's father the truth. Doing that made his anger even worse.

  Oh, he's been simply horrid, Rissy. I see no hope for me and Joel any time soon. If I even mention Joel's name, Father explodes. But that isn't the worst part. Father now says that if you don't come home within this next week, which is impossible as we both know, he is going to disinherit you.

  I could just cry. This is all my fault. I don't know how you can ever forgive me. But please, don't give up hope. I promise I will figure something out. It will just take a little more time. At least I am re­lieved by your description of Mr. Holt. He sounds like a reasonable man, so you should have no diffi­culty imposing on him a bit longer. Don't despair, Rissy.

  Sharisse put her head in her hands. Don't despair, when there were no tickets and no money enclosed with the letter? Disinherited within a week? It had taken longer than that for this letter to get to her. What did it all mean, that she couldn't go home?

  That she could never go home? Was she to be stranded there forever?

  She sat, absolutely still, for a long time. After a while she heard Lucas open her door. "I think you better get out here, Sharisse. Sam has brought us a little surprise."

  She heard the tension in his voice, but she didn't wonder about it. She was beyond coping with any­thing further. She rose automatically and followed Lucas into the other room.

  Chapter 30

  LUCAS slowed his stallion as the ranch came into view. It was such a pleasant sight, the dawn sky behind it streaked with violet, purple, amethyst. . . all the shades of her eyes, he told himself disagree­ably.

  A spiral of smoke rose from Billy's house, but from the main house there was no sign of life. Sharisse would still be sleeping. There was no reason for her not to be. When he'd left, he'd gone without telling her he was going.

  He wondered what she thought about his deser­tion six days ago. That was certainly how she would view it, as desertion. That would determine the kind of reception he was in for. If she was angry, or even hurt, well, that was just the way it was. He had con­sidered her feelings before his own when it mattered most. That was enough.

  Lucas nudged his horse forward. The sack hanging by his leg moved, and he grunted. The cat was still alive then. He still couldn't figure out why he had bothered with the damn thing. But he had found it on a homestead outside Tucson where he stopped for water, and buying it from the farmer just seemed the thing to do. After all, it wasn't as if he was bringing the cat for Sharisse. It was for Charley, that was all.

  Lucas managed to get his horse settled in the barn without waking Mack. Then he let the cat loose and watched her run off to find a dark hiding place. Well, Charley would sniff her out soon enough. Right now he had his own female to deal with.

  Charley growled the moment Lucas entered Shar-isse's room, but it didn't take him long to smell the female cat on Lucas, and he changed his tune. Shar-isse didn't wake even when he shooed Charley out of the room and closed the door again.

  He had time to study her as she lay there una­wares, to marvel at her beauty. The effect she had on him was instantaneous, and he didn't try to fight it. But seeing his ring on her bedside table cooled him off just as quickly.

  Disgruntled, he sat down on the bed with a bounce intended to wake her. It did.

  "Lucas?"

  Was that pleasure in her voice? No. That was the voice of an irate woman. Good. Why should he be the only one upset?

  "How've you been, honey?" he asked.

  "How have I been?" Sharisse gasped. She came off the bed, grabbing her robe, and moved well away from him. "How dare you ask me that after what you did?"

  "All I did was take off for a while."

  "I wasn't referring to that!" she snapped. "You can take off again for all I care. You tricked me, Lu­cas. I would have thought that ridiculous ceremony was nothing but a dream if Mack hadn't called me Mrs. Holt!"

  "So, that really was panic I detected in you when I introduced you to the preacher. And here I convinced myself you were only surprised."

  His sarcasm gave Sharisse pause. Oh, why did this confrontation have to take place now, when she wasn't even fully awake yet? She hadn't meant to re­veal her true feelings to him, only to confirm what she suspected—that he had been even more upset than she was when Samuel Newcomb brought them a preacher.

  "It was only surprise, Lucas," she said in a more reasonable tone. "But I don't like being taken ad­vantage of."

  "I believed the word you used was 'tricked.' "

  "Well, how else should I feel?" she said defen­sively. "I wasn't myself that day, for one thing. I had been drinking that foul concoction of Willow's. I'd been frightened out of my wits by half a dozen Indi­ans, not to mention your brother. And on top of that . . . well, never mind," she quickly amended. "Heav­ens, I can't even remember half of what took place that day."

  "What difference does it make? There was little choice involved, what with the preacher standing right there. You do recall that, don't you? Or was the time and place more important than your reputa­tion?" She turned her back on him in a huff, and he said derisively, "No, I thought not."

  Lucas glared furiously at her back. She might not have had any reasonable choice, but he'd had one. He could have kicked Sam and the preacher off his land, as he wanted to. But oh, no, he had thought of Sharisse first, Sharisse and her damned sensibili­ties. He simply couldn't bring himself to shame her in front of Sam by refusing to marry her. What a gen­tleman he was.

  Marrying her wasn't what infuriated him, though. It wasn't a legal marriage, anyway, unless he chose to honor it. She didn't know that, of course. He was enraged because he had lost control of the whole situ­ation.

  Damn Newcomb and his meddling. The bastard thought he was doing them both a favor by bringing the preacher out to the ranch, but all he'd done was complicate Lucas's plans all to hell. And after six days of mulling it over, Lucas still didn't know how to handle things. Damn!

  Maybe it would be better if Sharisse just stayed angry with him. It would certa
inly make it easier on both of them when they finally parted.

  "You know, Sharisse, your attitude leads me to be­lieve you didn't want to get married."

  His speculation, which was all too true, made her simmering temper boil over. "How can you say that?" she retorted, striding toward him, arms akim­bo. "Didn't I come here to get married? Don't I have the right to get upset when sudden changes occur? You did tell me I would have time to adjust, time to get to know you. You told me that. And I had been here a mere five weeks when we were married!"

  "I think you got to know me pretty well in that time," he taunted.

  Her color rose. "That is not the point," she in­sisted. "Besides, if anyone's attitude leaves some­thing to be desired, it's yours. You can't deny you were angry that dayr Lucas. You were so angry you left right after the preacher did, without so much as a good-bye. And you're still angry. I would really like to know why."

  Lucas stared her straight in the eye. He could do one of two things. He could placate Sharisse and put their relationship back the way it was, or he could be honest for a change, which would set her against him completely. The one would benefit him, the other her.

  For her sake, there was only one choice. With studied indifference, he said, "If I seem a little out of sorts, it's simply because I never had any intention of marrying you, Sharisse."

  She stared at him in utter, silent disbelief.

  "What?"

  "It's true."

  Sharisse felt sick. All the years of feeling unattrac­tive because of her height and coloring crowded in on her.

  "I don't understand, Lucas. I ... I know you thought maybe Stephanie was your bride, but you said it didn't matter. Now you say it does matter. Why didn't you send me back immediately if you found me so unacceptable?"

  The pain in her eyes tore at him. She was supposed to be angry, not hurt.

  "Damn it, you've got it all wrong," he said quick­ly. "There's nothing wrong with you, Sharisse. Why, I've never known a woman more desirable than you. I just didn't want a wife—any wife. It's nothing per­sonal."

  "But you advertised for a wife."

  "So I did."

  "With no intention of marrying her?"

  "That's right."

  "Why?" she cried.

  "That, honey, is none of your business."

  "None . . . oh!" She turned her back on him again, only to swing back around. "You seduced me with­out honorable intentions!"

  "I didn't hear you complaining."

  She slapped him, and she would have again if he hadn't grabbed her wrists. "You're despicable, Lu­cas!"

  "Perhaps," he sighed. "But now let's talk about you and who you really are."

  Her heart skipped a beat. "What. . . what do you mean?" she asked warily.

  "Think about it. When a woman claims to be a widow, it stands to reason she's no longer a virgin. How do you explain the fact that you were?"

  "You knew?" she gasped. "Why didn't you say something?"

  Lucas shrugged. "I didn't want to embarrass you."

  "Oh, but it's all right to embarrass me now be­cause I'm your wife?"

  She was too angry to let him turn the tables on her after what he had just admitted. Guilt over her own deception vanished in light of his.

  "Let go of me, Lucas," she demanded icily.

  "You going to keep your hands to yourself?"

  "You deserved that slap."

  "What I deserve and what I'll stand for don't al­ways match, Sharisse," he told her brusquely. "And we were talking about you."

  He released her, and she rubbed her wrists as she glared at him. Her mind was racing, searching for a way to assuage his curiosity without confessing.

  "Lucas," she began with fine hauteur, "if a man is less than honest, he tends to be skeptical of others."

  "Given a good reason, he does indeed. Your sup­posed first marriage is very much in doubt."

  "Did it ever occur to you that my husband might have had a problem? That he couldn't consummate our marriage? It was unfortunate, but not all men are as healthy and virile as you. I felt no less married because of that."

  Lucas grimaced. Lord, she really was the innocent victim all the way through this. He was going to have to reevaluate the way he thought of her all over again. And damn, he could see it already, the guilt piling up and him doing something foolishly noble to make it all up to her.

  "If you want an annulment," Lucas offered quiet­ly, "it's possible under the circumstances."

  "Of course I do," Sharisse said stiffly. "You don't think I would stay here with a man who doesn't want me."

  He gazed down at the floor. "So be it. But in the meantime, you will stay here. And if it's to be the easy way, annulment instead of divorce, then you better stay the hell away from me, because there was never any question about my wanting you."

  There was a silence, and then she said, "Why can't I leave now?"

  "I'm broke, Sharisse. I can't afford to send you anywhere, let alone all the way back to New York. New York is where you want to go, isn't it?"

  "Yes. How long, Lucas?"

  "What's your hurry? You did come here to get married, remember?" he flung at her. "Consider yourself married for the time being, okay?"

  "I find our situation intolerable," she said flatly.

  "You think I like it? I'd just as soon shut you up with kisses, but I'm not going to add to the injuries I've already done you." He stood up and went to the door. "But the reason I needed you here still exists, and now that we're married, it would cause too many questions if you left right away. You'll just have to wait this out with me, Sharisse."

  "You won't tell me the reason?"

  "No."

  "Then go, Lucas. And please have the decency not to set foot in this room again."

  He left, sorry he had hurt her, aching to make love to her, full of sorrow and regret.

  Chapter 31

  WANTING to leave and actually gathering the courage to go were two very different things, Sharisse found out. As the morning progressed she dressed to ride and packed all she could manage to stuff into her portmanteau, which would hook onto a saddle. But as she waited, praying for Lucas to leave the ranch so she could go without having to face him, she had time to think about what she was doing.

  What she hadn't considered before then was that not only might Lucas try to stop her, he also had the legal right to stop her. Even if she managed to get to town and Samuel Newcomb gave her shelter, Lucas could bring her back. No one could do anything about it, least of all herself, because he was her legal husband.

  So where did that leave her? She couldn't stay here, not with Lucas's true character revealed. Oh, if only he had told her how long he wanted her to stay, then she might not feel so desperate. But for all she knew he might want her around for years. And the way Lucas affected her, she knew it would be only a matter of time before she forgave him everything. If they became lovers again, she couldn't annul the marriage. She simply had to go and go now.

  Lucas did finally leave, taking one of the new mares out for a ride. Sharisse hurried to the barn to have Mack saddle her a horse. She hid her portman­teau and Charley's empty basket outside the stable.

  No point in testing Mack's loyalty. Then she went in search of Charley. She found him in the back of the barn,, sitting on the ground staring at a dark corner. When she called him, he wouldn't respond, wouldn't even turn around to look at her. Then she saw that the gold eyes glowing out from under a plank in the corner belonged to another cat.

  Sharisse was amazed. Lucas had to have brought the cat to the ranch. What a sweet thing to do. But she couldn't let that change her mind. She had to re­member everthing else he had done.

  Charley obviously didn't want to leave his new friend, but Sharisse wouldn't consider leaving him. She locked him in his basket and hurried away. For­tunately Mack didn't follow to see her secure her be­longings to the saddle. There was only one thing more she had to do, say good-bye to Willow and her baby.
r />   It was a tearful affair. Willow didn't try to stop her. She asked no questions, seeming to fathom Sharisse's feelings.

  Sharisse made it to town without incident. She left the horse at Pete's Livery where Lucas could find it some day, then headed for the hotel. Wilber, sitting out front of the mail dispatch, called out to her that she had a letter.

  That was surprising enough, but what was inside the envelope caused her to cry out with joy. Money! More than enough to get her home! She couldn't be­lieve such luck, coming just when she needed it most. She wouldn't have to impose on anyone now, or risk asking Sam Newcomb's help. She could leave New-comb before Lucas even discovered her gone.

  Sharisse went straight to the stage depot, not even taking time to read Stephanie's letter. Her only con­cern was whether there was a stagecoach due. There was, and her luck was holding, for the stage was late and expected any time.

  Waiting was nerve-racking. Even when the large, clumsy stage finally rolled into town, Sharisse had to wait an hour while the horses were changed and the driver was fed.

  She waited inside the stage. It was an oven, the leather curtains closing out most of the air, but she was hidden.

  She was beginning to relax when the door opened and Slade stepped into the stage and sat down beside her. She was absolutely stupefied.

  "How-?"

  "Saw you come into town," he told her. "Been watching you ever since."

  "But what are you doing in Newcomb?"

  "I go wherever the mood takes me." His eyes pierced her. "Where are you going, beautiful?"

  She clamped her mouth shut, determined that she didn't have to tell him anything.

  "No answer?" he prodded.

  "It's none of your business," she said stonily.

  "Oh, I don't know." He relaxed back into the seat and said in a too casual manner, "I saw Luke in Tuc­son a few days ago. I guess I didn't believe him when he said he'd tied the knot. I came back this way to find out the truth. Sure enough, I heard from several peo­ple that a preacher made a respectable woman of you." He sighed. "I never did like respectable women."