Page 14 of Tender Is the Storm


  They rode in silence, still a little wary of each other but enjoying each other's company neverthe­less.

  Chapter 21

  SHARISSE held the baby in her arms, rocking it gently. How this infant fascinated her with its full head of black hair and tiny, perfect features. He had been born the night they returned from the mountains, as if Willow had waited until her hus­band was home.

  Billy Wolf had been no help during the delivery, however. Sharisse heard him confess to Lucas that he had slept through the birth. He wasn't awakened until he heard the baby cry.

  That was amazing in itself. And that Willow was up and about the very next day was equally amaz­ing. Willow disproved everything Sharisse had ever heard about having babies. She made it seem so nor­mal. And the baby boy was strong and healthy, a de­light just to watch.

  Sharisse had ignored her own work these last three days to spend time with Willow and her baby. Lucas didn't seem to mind if his meals were late or his clothes weren't washed. He seemed tolerantly amused, in fact, that Sharisse wanted only to talk about the baby.

  Lucas was very busy, breaking in the new mares. It was a blessing, because he was exhausted by even­ing, and so far he had made no amorous advances. But how long would that last?

  The problem was she didn't know what to expect from Lucas. At first she had worried because he was so attentive and desirous. Now she worried because he wasn't making advances. They were still sleeping alone in the house, yet he didn't suggest they share the same bed. Was he just exhausted? If only she could ask him, but she could hardly broach the sub­ject!

  To worry her further, she hadn't heard from Stepha­nie. Oh, what a little communication wouldn't have done for her peace of mind!

  Lucas had gone to town for supplies that morning, but he still wasn't back and it was the middle of the afternoon. She was beginning to fret when she heard the buggy approaching. She reached the front door just as Lucas pulled the buggy to a stop.

  "What are you doing with this?" she called to him.

  "Taking you to town. I thought you might like to dine at the hotel."

  What a delightful idea. Oh, she had a suspicion as to why he suggested it, and she couldn't blame him. It was her cooking.

  He jumped down from the buggy, flashing her a wide smile as he handed her two wrapped parcels. "These are for you, but not for now," he told her. "For tonight, dress yourself in your fanciest city gown. There's someone in town I want you to meet."

  "And who is this someone?"

  "A friend of mine from back East—St. Louis actu­ally. He just arrived today."

  "But," she said uneasily, "you've already told me my simplest dress is too fancy for around here. I don't want to look overdressed, Lucas."

  "You won't."

  "Is it your intention to show me off?"

  "What's wrong with that?" He grinned. "It's not every man who can claim he's got the best-looking woman around for a fiancee."

  "Lucas, be serious!"

  "I am serious, beautiful."

  "I've asked you not to call me that."

  "Are you going to stand here and argue, or are you going to get ready? I thought you'd enjoy an evening in town. It's a weeknight, so the place won't be crowded. And Emery Buskett is a city man himself, so he'll be utterly charmed by you."

  "Did you tell him I was from St. Louis, like you've told everyone else? Good Lord, Lucas, am I supposed to talk confidently about a town I've never even been to?"

  "Now don't go panicking before you have to." He was grinning again. "As a matter of fact, he doesn't know a thing about you. We had other things to talk about today."

  "That's why you're so late?"

  "Good Lord, Sharisse, you sound like a wife al­ready," he complained.

  "I do not!" she gasped indignantly. But she knew he was only teasing her.

  "Actually, it was a surprise to see Emery," he ex­plained. "I didn't know he was coming."

  "And now you want to surprise him—with me?"

  "You don't like surprises?"

  What could she do with him when he got into a ras­cally mood? He must have had a pleasant reunion with his friend, and perhaps one drink too many.

  "I'll go and get ready, Lucas."

  "Good girl." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "You can have the house to yourself if you want to bathe in the kitchen to save time. I'll clean up in the barn."

  "You won't come in until I call you?"

  "I can't make any promises, beautiful."

  He laughed, and she watched him saunter away. Why did he persist in calling her "beautiful" when he knew it annoyed her? And how could she stay an­noyed with him when he was such a rogue?

  Chapter 22

  The Palace Hotel was a pleasant surprise, nothing like she had expected. It was narrow and only three stories high, and the top floor was one large suite belonging exclusively to Samuel Newcomb. But its plain wooden facade hid luxury. With chan­deliers, and crystal lamps on each of the tables in the dining room, she felt at home. Of course, a fine New York restaurant would never be so empty, nor would she have worn a simple outing dress, which she de­cided was elegant enough.

  There was only one other couple in the din­ing room, and only one waiter to serve them. She watched Lucas covertly while they sat waiting for Emery to join them.

  She hadn't mentioned the parcels he'd brought from town. The plain calico dresses were obviously for her to work in, and the boy's pants and cotton shirts were probably for riding. The clothes told her that, as far as he was concerned, she wasn't leaving any time soon.

  While they waited for Emery, Lucas watched Sharisse, too. She took his breath away. He had told her to dress up, and to his mind that meant some­thing flashy. But she had dressed in sheer elegance, in a black and red lampas basque. There were three flounces of Chantilly lace on the skirt, draped to re­veal the rich black satin beneath. The dress brought out her rich, vibrant copper-colored hair. She looked exquisite. But then she always looked good to him. He shook his head. If only he hadn't discovered what a little liar she was.

  He still didn't know what to make of it. Damn, she was as good at spinning tales as he was. And he had been just as gullible as she was, believing every­thing she told him. He'd never guessed that she really might be a virgin. A virgin! He ought to have known. She sure acted like one.

  That fact delighted and enraged him. He certainly hadn't got any sleep the night of the big surprise. He had spent hours trying to figure what could have mo­tivated her to claim widowhood, when the simple truth would have been much more appealing. It didn't make sense.

  The next morning, she had managed to hide the evidence of her recently-lost virginity. The little in­nocent really thought her ruse had gone undetected, and she meant to keep it that way. But why? What was her real story, anyway? Was she running away from someone? From the law? Did she really have no intention of marrying him? Was that also a lie? He was consumed by curiosity.

  Those splendid amethyst eyes turned his way, and she smiled shyly at him. Hell, there was no reason he couldn't keep her as long as he needed her. Five min­utes later Emery walked in, but he wasn't alone. Lu­cas groaned at the sight of the Newcombs. He was puzzled. Emery had told him that Sam insisted no one learn about the sale of his ranch, not yet. How would Sam handle being caught in the lawyer's com­pany? For that matter, Emery looked quite uncom­fortable. Handling things from afar was one thing, but being thrust to the forefront of a colossal swindle was another. It had taken Lucas a long time to find a lawyer whose scruples wouldn't be a problem for what he had in mind. He hadn't considered that Em­ery and Sam Newcomb might meet face to face.

  Just then, Samuel Newcomb was wishing he were anywhere but where he was. It had been Fiona's idea to come to dine at the hotel with his business associ­ate, which was what he had told Fiona Emery Bus-kett was, merely an associate. And wouldn't you know, she had spotted Holt and his fiancée and was making her way to their table. Of all the rotten luck.

 
Damn. He hadn't wanted Luke to know that the man who was handling their mutual investment was in town. He would certainly wonder why he was there, and he might put two and two together and see what Sam was up to. Sam was buying the new block of stock in Fiona's maiden name so none of the original investors would know he was after the controlling interest. If that fact were known, some­one else might get the same idea and go for the controlling interest himself. Sam had been so care­ful, and now this. He wasn't worried that Holt would come up with a very large investment, but there was the possibility that he might know some of the other investors and tell them what Sam was up to.

  When the time came for expansion, Sam would di­

  rect that expansion to Newcomb. His dream of the

  town he had founded being a huge city one day was a

  possibility. And with profits pouring in, he could buy

  back all his properties pretty soon. |H|

  That would be the easy part, once the absentee *■ buyers that Emery was coming up with found out that Newcomb was at present on its way to becoming a ghost town. Sam had promised Emery a sizable ^^ profit to keep that information to himself. That was |H why he had insisted on Emery coming to Newcomb. ' He wasn't going to broach such a delicate matter through the mail. If he hadn't been able to buy the lawyer, Sam would simply have got rid of him and dealt with someone else. But Emery had gone along with everything. He had assured Sam that he and Luke weren't close friends. Besides, Holt's invest­ment would be salvaged by the deal Sam was making, so he couldn't very well complain when he fi­nally heard about it.

  "What a pleasant surprise," Fiona was saying. "We certainly didn't expect to find you here, Luke— and of course your charming fiancee," she mur­mured. Her pale blue eyes lit on Sharisse with unconcealed contempt. "What is your name, dear?" She dismissed her, smiling at Lucas. "You poor man. I suppose the hotel is the only place you can get a de­cent meal these days."

  Sharisse was shocked by the blatant insult. The proper thing she wanted to do was to be icily polite. That was proper. But the way Fiona Newcomb was devouring Lucas with her eyes rubbed Sharisse the wrong way, and what was proper went right out of her mind.

  Fortunately Lucas found his voice before she could bare her claws. "I don't need an excuse to bring my fiancee to dinner here, Fiona, but if you're curious about her skills in the kitchen, you might as well know she puts your imported cook to shame."

  "How delightful," Fiona replied dryly.

  Sharisse beamed at the sweet lie. "Actually, Mrs. Newcomb, Lucas promised me an evening of hearing the latest news from St. Louis. A friend of his is in town."

  "Not our Mr. Buskett?" Fiona asked. She looked over her shoulder to see him approaching with Sam.

  "How did you know Emery was in town, Luke?" Sam asked suspiciously.

  "I happened to see him when I was here today. But you know how lawyers are when they're on a busi­ness trip—all work and no socializing. And since he's only passing through, I figured if I didn't bring Shar­isse to town tonight to meet him, she wouldn't get the chance. But how did you know he was in town?"

  "He, ah, came by the ranch to pay a courtesy call, introduced himself. After all, I'd never met the man, and he is handling some affairs for me."

  "Is that right, Emery?" Lucas admonished in a friendly tone. "You wouldn't accept my invitation, but you went to see Sam?"

  Emery was too flustered to find an answer, but Sam had a ready response. "I'm sure he would have gone out to your ranch if he hadn't seen you in town already, Luke."

  "Well, of course." Emery found his voice. "Lucas, you didn't tell me you were getting married. If I had known, I certainly would have gone to see you to of­fer my congratulations."

  Lucas smiled at the lawyer's quick recovery. He made the introductions. Fiona stood there, bristling, as Emery kissed her rival's hand.

  "Hammond?" Emery said thoughtfully. "I have just recently heard that name, but where?"

  Sharisse tensed. He couldn't possibly have heard of her, but she changed the subject anyway.

  "I suppose I must be disappointed, if you've made a prior commitment for dinner, Mr. Buskett." She glanced briefly at Sam and Fiona. "But perhaps you will be coming through Newcomb again, and we can meet?"

  "In order to enjoy your company, I will be sure to return," Emery replied smoothly.

  "Why wait?" Fiona interjected, seeing an opportu­nity to have the whole evening to use her wiles on Lucas. "There's no reason why we can't all dine to­gether, is there?" Fiona took the seat next to Lucas before Sam could say no. "After all, we don't want to deprive the dear child of hearing all the latest gossip from home. There's so much that might have hap­pened in the two weeks she's been here."

  Fiona's sarcasm was apparent to all, but Sharisse decide to feign ignorance. "You're too kind, Mrs. Newcomb, and not just for sharing Mr. Buskett with us." She laughed. "Why, it's been simply ages since anyone's called me a child. And I was beginning to feel quite old."

  "It must be your ungainly height that deceives people," Fiona said snidely. "But of course /was able to see how young you are. A woman can tell."

  "Ah, Mrs. Newcomb, you must stop flattering me. Really, twenty is not so young." She didn't dare glance at Lucas for fear he was choking on what he would think was a lie. "But perhaps when I am as old as you are I won't have this problem of being thought younger than I am. You don't have that problem, do you?"

  Sam almost laughed as he watched Fiona clamp her mouth shut. He and Emery pulled another table close to make places for themselves. He knew what his wife was up to. She had been a regular bitch since meeting Sharisse Hammond. She just couldn't stand it that she was no longer the prettiest belle in the territory. On top of that, the new beauty had the man Fiona hankered for. Now if Luke would only hurry and marry the girl and put an end to Fiona's hopes once and for all, Sam's life might be a little easier. He signaled the waiter for a round of drinks, bracing himself for the evening.

  On the short side of thirty and considered quite the ladies man by his friends, Emery Buskett completely forgot the reason for his being there and took the chair next to Sharisse. To find a woman of Miss Hammond's style and breeding in this small town was an unexpected delight, and he fully intended to monopolize her during dinner if Mrs. Newcomb would stop baiting her long enough so that he could.

  He was out of his league, he knew that. Sharisse was undoubtly from one of those rich St. Louis fami­lies he had only read about in the papers. He couldn't recall ever hearing the name Hammond, though. Not in St. Louis. But where had he heard that name recently? Damn, he hated it when something eluded him like that.

  The drinks came, whiskeys for the gentlemen and a bottle of fine white wine for the ladies. Sam took it upon himself to order dinner for everyone, and the meal progressed amiably enough while Fiona fixed her attention on Lucas and Sharisse managed to fool the engaging Emery Buskett into believing she knew exactly what he was talking about as he told her this and that about St. Louis society.

  She didn't know that Lucas was paying more at­tention to her conversation than to Fiona's. He was amused by her performance, but Emery's uncon­cealed admiration of her was more than he'd bargained for. The man wasn't half bad looking, and he presented a dandified air that she probably felt right at home with. He would remind her of every­thing she had left behind. Damn, why the hell had he ever thought of getting Sharisse and Emery to­gether? What a dumb thing to do.

  "Marcus Hammond!" Emery exclaimed suddenly, embarrassed when everyone stared at him. "I'm sorry. You know how it is when something gets on the tip of your tongue but won't go any further? That was the name I couldn't remember earlier."

  "Well, don't stop there, Mr. Buskett," Fiona said dryly.

  "Oh, it was nothing," Emery replied.

  "Any relation to you, dear?" Fiona asked Shar­isse, obviously without any interest at all.

  "No," Sharisse said, a bit too loudly. She had been able to mask her expression, but her voice was an­other matt
er. She kept her eyes lowered as she added, "I'm afraid I've never heard of Marcus Ham­mond."

  Emery decided to tell the story. It might be enter­taining. "This is some rich eccentric from New York. A friend of mine from there and a host of other men are all in peril of losing their jobs if they don't find the eccentric's daughter. My friend, Jim, works for one of the larger detective agencies in New York, you see. The reward for this girl is so ridiculously large that his boss wants results or else."

  "New York?" Lucas said thoughtfully. "What's the girl's name?"

  Sharisse wanted to crawl under the table.

  "I'm afraid I never asked the daughter's name," Emery answered.

  "Was the girl kidnapped, Mr. Buskett?" Sharisse ventured, realizing that if she didn't show some in­terest, Lucas would wonder why not.

  "No, a runaway, actually, which was why Jim could do nothing but complain about his assignment when he came by to see me last week. He has four states to cover, and little hope of success. It's just too easy to get lost in a country this size, too easy to change your name or your appearance. They know the girl left New York by train with a fortune in jew­elry that would take her just about anywhere she felt like going. But Jim figures she doubled back and is hiding out in one of those fancy hotels in New York. That's his theory."

  "Why?" Fiona asked.

  "She was born in New York and lived there all her life. Aside from a trip to Europe, she's never been out of the state. Why would she leave the only home she knows just because of a disagreement with her fa­ther? That's what made her take off. Jim's complaint is that he thinks the girl will return by herself and no one will collect that huge reward, so he was sent west for nothing."

  "This is all fascinating, Mr. Buskett," Fiona said innocently. "Especially when we have our own Miss Hammond sitting right here. If Luke hadn't told us that she was from St. Louis, why, I would wonder if she weren't this spoiled little rich girl running away from her father."