by Seton, Cora
He’d fucked her without a condom. No—even now he couldn’t use that word to characterize what he’d done. He wasn’t the villain here. He hadn’t fucked her; he’d made love to her. Because he’d thought he had loved her.
What he loved was a lie.
He wasn’t sure which infuriated him more, that she’d played him so hard he’d lost his head over her, or that Darren had been clever enough to pull this off. Hell, he’d been surprised that the man would have the gumption to tamper with his pasture fence. This—this was something else.
Zane stopped.
This was beyond Darren.
He leaned on the axe, feeling suddenly ill at ease. That was the truth of it; his cousin wasn’t dumb, but he wasn’t worldly, either. He had never left Chance Creek, and he still worked a job that he’d picked up as a teenager. Formulating this plan had taken a level of sophistication he couldn’t credit to the man. Storm had identification that hadn’t tripped up the Judge one bit, and he figured Masters was someone who’d seen his share of ID’s.
So who was Storm really? Why was she here?
When I’m gone. She’d tossed off the phrase so casually, as if nothing different had ever been on the table. As if they weren’t married already. As if they hadn’t pledged their love to each other just last night.
As if he didn’t mean a thing to her.
“What are you going to do now?”
Zane swung around when Austin approached.
“I don’t know. I went to the store to confront Storm and Belinda was there. Storm hired her, for crying out loud, so I jumped to the only conclusion I could—that Darren set this all up.”
Austin cocked his head. “Darren? What, you think he saw your wife-wanted ad and hired Storm to answer it? That seems a bit out of his league, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I do now that I’ve had time to think about it.”
“This is a goddamn mess.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
“You’ve got to fix it.”
“Wish I knew how.”
“Figure it out.”
Austin was angry and he couldn’t blame him. They both turned to face the Hall. If he lost them the ranch again through his own stupidity…
“I’ll get it done—somehow.” He’d set Storm straight on what he expected from her. He’d get through the next few months somehow. He’d convince Heloise to sign the papers over for the goddamn ranch. Then—
Then he’d let Storm go and hope he never saw her again.
Storm stayed at the store as long as possible, but when the shadows grew thick outside her door and traffic thinned out, she knew she had to face the music. She’d long since cried herself dry. Her throat ached, her eyes stung, but more was yet to come. She didn’t know what she’d find back at the ranch. Her only consolation was that she doubted she could feel worse than she did now.
She gathered her things, called a taxi and waited by the front window. All her joy in owning a store was gone. Coming to Chance Creek had been a big mistake.
The cabbie tried to chat as he drove down the country highway south of town, but Storm couldn’t focus. She hesitated at the base of the Hall’s steps when they arrived, wishing she didn’t have to go inside. If only she had told Zane right from the start about her plan to hire Belinda. She should have trusted him to be able to talk it through, although judging from his reaction today, could he really blame her that she hadn’t?
Yes, she decided in the end. He could. She kept trying to circumvent her problems rather than dealing with them head on. Why was that?
She traced her hand along the worn wooden railing of the front stairs. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, she decided. Cheyenne did the same thing. They were two of a kind.
She resolved to find Zane, explain the sequence of events that had led to her hiring Belinda on the sly and promise him it wouldn’t happen again. Before she could climb the steps, however, headlights flashed across the Hall and another taxi drove in behind her. She waited until it pulled to a stop in front of the house. The rear door flung open and a small shape exited it. “Storm!”
“Zoe?” Storm couldn’t believe her eyes. “Daisy? Violet? What are you doing here?”
Cheyenne was the last to exit the cab. “Since you’ve decreed I have to give up my home, we’ve come to stay with you,” she announced.
Zane breathed a sigh of relief when the front door opened and Storm walked in. He’d half convinced himself she’d leave Chance Creek directly and he’d never see her again. If that was the case, he should have been happy, but he knew he’d be anything but. As angry as he was, he wanted answers. The only person who could give them to him was Storm.
He rose to his feet from the dinner table where he’d been trying to eat, but stopped when more people spilled into the entryway behind her.
“The airplanes were so cool—”
“I had to sit next to—”
“I saw the Rocky Mountains—”
“Who’s here?” Regan said, turning in her seat.
Storm entered the dining room, her face pale. She looked tired and vulnerable, and she’d obviously been crying. Zane’s first instinct was to kiss the shadows beneath her eyes away. He steeled himself against any such desires.
“My mother and sisters are here,” Storm said in a flat tone, as if she too was beyond the capacity to feel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming or I would have warned you. Zane, this is Cheyenne. Cheyenne, this is Zane—”
Cheyenne fixed him with an angry look. “Where else were we supposed to go?” she said before he could make up his mind how to greet her. “When you decided to steal my daughter away, you left me high and dry.” Her daughters crowded around Storm, who circled them in her arms, but kept her attention on Cheyenne, eyeing the woman like she might set off a bomb at any moment. As far as he was concerned, Storm had already set off a bomb back at Mandy’s Emporium. His future lay in ruins. He didn’t need more confusion.
“I… uh… hello.” Zane didn’t know what else to say. Was this woman in on it too? Did Storm—Kenna—whoever she was—even have a mother? He couldn’t remember her ever mentioning one, and hadn’t she said she was an only child?
Anger built within him at this new twist. How many lies had Storm set out to tell? Did she really think this new cover-up job could paste over the failed one? How had she even wrangled a fake mother and three sisters in the scant hours since he’d confronted her?
“There’s no way I can balance a full-time job with raising three children,” Cheyenne went on. “You’re selfish to demand it. Of course, you obviously think it’s perfectly reasonable to force me from my house, so I suppose I should have expected it.”
“I—what the hell is this?” He turned to Storm for an explanation. Storm shook her head helplessly as the girls clamored for her attention.
“Zane—I’m sorry. About everything.”
He wanted to block out her words and her pleading expression. Every instinct he had made him want to sweep her into his arms and away from all the chaos, but how could he do that when she’d caused all of it?
Not all of it, a little voice in his head said. He was the one who’d advertised for a fake wife.
That was different, though. He hadn’t set out to make Storm love him, knowing all the while he meant to leave her at the end.
Before he could say a word, Cheyenne whirled to face Storm. “I knew it,” she said. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you? All that baloney about marrying him for real. You were lying! There’s no reason you can’t get your bonus and come home.”
“Mom!”
Zane caught the looks passing between his brothers and their wives. The situation was about to get out of hand. “That’s enough,” he said loudly. “Everybody, sit down and shut up.” His military experience kicked in and he assessed the situation automatically. Goal—information. As much as possible. Priorities—get people fed and talking. There was no need for shouting and drama
tics. The game Storm was playing was over, no matter who was the one who’d started it—even Storm must know that.
“I bet these girls are tired and hungry.” He hoped his tone made it clear that he expected everyone to settle down. With a look to her husband, Regan stood up and began to shift the chairs to make room for their unexpected guests. Mason went to get a couple more chairs from the kitchen. The girls plunked down on the vacant seats happily while Ella poured glasses of milk. Storm began to ladle food onto the plates Regan fetched. Only Zane and Cheyenne remained standing.
“I’m not eating until Storm comes to her senses and—”
“Then don’t eat.” Zane cut across her words and jabbed a finger at an empty chair. Cheyenne opened her mouth, closed it. Sat down.
“You still haven’t said anything about my hair, Storm,” Zoe cried suddenly. “Didn’t you notice? I cut it short!”
Zane blessed her for the change of subject. Regan and Ella immediately exclaimed over her hairdo, clearly glad to diffuse the tension in the room.
Storm sent him a grateful look he tried to ignore. He was not on her side. He wouldn’t be taken in by her again.
“The twins need haircuts soon, too,” Cheyenne suddenly said to Storm in a conversational tone. “I hope there’s someone good in town.”
“I know an excellent hairdresser,” Regan assured her.
Cheyenne looked at the plates of food Regan and Ella were preparing. “Maybe I’m a tiny bit hungry after all.”
Zane sat down in his own chair with a thump. How was he ever going to straighten this out?
Storm couldn’t believe her mother had chosen this disastrous moment to arrive, and she said a silent prayer of thanks that everyone was now doing their best to smooth things over. As for Zane, he still looked as furious as he’d been when he walked out of Mandy’s, but as she watched, he sat down heavily, took a deep breath, got himself under control and bent to look at Zoe’s hair.
“You look like a princess, sweetheart.”
Storm’s heart melted. That was exactly why she’d fallen for Zane. Only a special man could be kind to a little girl in the midst of all this turmoil.
Austin was sitting next to him. Violet looked from one to the other. “You’re twins, just like us!”
“That’s right,” Austin said to her. “You and your sister and Zane and I are the twin brigade.”
“Hear that, Storm? I’m in the twin brigade.” Violet beamed at her.
“So you are. I guess I feel left out,” Storm made herself say in an even tone. She was close to breaking down, though. Everything was falling apart. She was losing Zane even as she sat here conversing as if nothing was wrong. Not only Zane—all the residents of Crescent Hall. She didn’t think she could stand that.
“You have to be left out. You don’t have a twin.”
“I’m glad I don’t have a twin,” Zoe asserted.
Storm intervened before they started fighting. Whether or not twins were superior to singles was a constant source of contention in her family’s home. “Eat your vegetables, Zoe. You, too, Daisy.”
“I’m not hungry for vegetables,” Daisy said.
“Eat them anyway,” Regan said, “and then we’ll have dessert.”
“Are you our aunt?” Zoe said to her.
“I don’t see why not,” Regan said. “Auntie Regan. I like the sound of that.”
“I’m your Auntie Ella,” Ella put in.
Storm swallowed down a fresh wave of sadness at how eagerly Regan and Ella took on their new roles. They wouldn’t be her sisters’ aunts for long the way things were going. Still, she was grateful at how hard they were all working to pretend this was a normal dinner and not upset the girls. Austin kept up a running conversation with Violet about twins. Zane pestered Daisy until she’d eaten up every green bean on her plate. Mason was smiling at them all from the head of the table as if he couldn’t be happier.
But tension framed the gathering, and it didn’t bode well for what would come later.
Violet yawned widely, and Daisy yawned after her.
“Looks like it’s getting close to bedtime,” Regan said. “How about I take you girls upstairs to get ready while your mother relaxes a little? I’ll make up rooms for everyone on the third floor. The girls can take the old nursery and you can have a room to yourself, Cheyenne.”
“Okay!” Zoe pushed her chair back and hopped up. So did the other girls. A moment later their footsteps were clattering up the stairs.
“Would you like me to go up with you, Mom?” Storm asked, eager to get away from Zane, who had now turned his gaze on her and was studying her, his expression unreadable.
Cheyenne nodded slowly.
Storm followed her up the two flights of stairs, getting more worried about her mother with each step. It wasn’t like Cheyenne to be so quiet, or so docile.
“You all right, Mom?” she asked reluctantly when they reached Cheyenne’s third floor room, fearing another outburst.
“I’m not used to being told to shut up.”
“It’s been a hard day around here.”
“It’s been a hard day for me, too. I’m the one losing my home.” Cheyenne’s tone was stiff, but she kissed Storm’s cheek before going into the room where Regan was finishing making up a bed.
I’m the one losing the man I love, Storm wanted to retort, but that conversation would have to wait for later, when they didn’t have an audience.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Regan said, slipping out of the room, and heading down the hall toward a larger one at the end where they could hear the girls laughing.
“I hope you sleep well, Mom. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow, okay?”
Cheyenne was already closing the door. Storm stood in the hall for a moment, unwilling to leave her mother alone, but unsure what to do. Cheyenne’s outburst when she first arrived must have been bravado. If she’d left home it meant she didn’t feel like she could pay her bills anymore. Guilt held Storm in place. She had blown everything. She wouldn’t get her bonus now, and she wouldn’t get Zane either. When she heard her mother’s sobs begin, she turned and fled.
Zane was waiting for Storm in her bedroom when she reached it. For a brief moment, she considered walking right back out again, but there was no use postponing this confrontation.
“We’d better talk, don’t you think?” he said.
She nodded wearily and shut the door. Whatever he had to say to her, it was going to be bad. All she could do was endure it. He gestured that she should take a seat, but she shook her head and stayed where she was.
“Want to tell me who you really are?”
She winced and bowed her head. So, the game was up. No wonder he was so angry. She allowed herself one last moment to belong here to Crescent Hall, to Chance Creek and to Zane. She knew when she was done with her explanation, she wouldn’t belong to any of them.
“My name is Storm Willow.”
Chapter Sixteen
‡
“My name is Storm Willow.”
Zane swallowed past a lump of pain that threatened to block his throat. She had lied to him right from the start. “Want to tell me why you’re pretending to be Kenna North?” His voice was calm, but inside he was struggling to control his temper. He’d always been proud of the way he could keep his cool when times got rough, but the day’s events were fast eroding that ability.
“Kenna’s my boss. Everything you know about her is true,” she rushed on, as if needing to say all of it now that she’d started. “She’s the one who arranged the marriage with you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because she got invited on another climb. She didn’t want to miss it.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. Heloise was right, after all. “So she sent you in her place?”
“That’s about the size of it. Kenna’s like that—practical to a fault.”
“Where’d you get the identification?”
“She sent it to
me.” With every answer, her voice was growing quieter.
“Are you in the habit of doing everything she tells you to do?”
Her head snapped up. “Yes. That’s exactly right. I do everything Kenna says, because I don’t have a choice!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because of those three girls up there.” She pointed to the ceiling. “Because of my mother, who won’t let go of the house my father bought for her, just like you and your brothers won’t let go of this ranch. Kenna pays my salary—she offered me a bonus to take her place. You have no right to judge me. You’d do anything for this piece of land—including marrying a stranger. Don’t tell me that your ruse to get a fake wife is any better than me stepping into Kenna’s shoes to take on her identity.” Her chest heaved with indignation. “If you saw my home, you’d understand why my mom won’t give it up, even though it’s bankrupting all of us. It’s special. It’s beautiful. It’s the most precious gift my father ever gave my mother. So, yes—I will do whatever Kenna says if it means I can keep earning my paycheck. At least, I used to. Not anymore.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s changed?” he challenged her, even as her words cut him to the quick. She was right; he had been willing to marry a stranger to protect his inheritance. He couldn’t defend himself against that accusation.
“I met you.” She let that sink in. “I realized that bankruptcy was better than living a lie. I decided that you were too important to me to give up just because Kenna demanded it. I told Cheyenne the last time we talked on the phone that I wouldn’t go through with the ruse—that I was going to tell you who I really was—and that there would be no bonus from Kenna. That’s why she’s here. She’s trying to save her house.”
“And I suppose you told Kenna about your change of heart?” He wanted so much to believe her, but he couldn’t. She’d lied to him about everything. How could he ever believe her again?
“No. Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.”
“So you say now.”
She flinched as if he’d struck her. “It’s true.”
“Do you even know the meaning of that word?”
