Wild Storm: The Unbridled Series, #2

By Sandra E Sinclair

“Secrets are simply another form of lying…” Words Strom would come to hear and not appreciate, as it marked her whole life as a lie. Something she was not prepared to admit. At least no to other.

For eighteen years Storm has managed to keep her true self hidden from the rest of the world. That is until her sister is abducted and she has to spend several days on the trail of her missing sister in the company of two very handsome Marshals. He secret becomes much harder to keep under the watchful eye of Colt Dalton, who suspects Storm is not all she seems.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra E Sinclair
• Release date: Nov 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386072058

Book preview

Chapter 1

Storm, where in tarnation are you? Whatcha doin’, boy? Get your boney behind over here. Or I’m coming over there to drag your worthless lazy hide out of bed, and stomp all over your useless head.

Storm’s eyes flashed open at her father’s words. Darn, she’d overslept. It felt as though she’d only closed her eyes for a minute. His cursing didn’t worry her, she knew he didn’t mean anything by it. He only cussed when he was stressed, something must be wrong.

Coming Pa, she yelled back. She’d better go see what he wanted, then go meet her sister Emma at their place down by the river. She was already late.

Storm leaped out of bed then looked down at her attire. She was dressed only in female pantaloons, a present from her sister. She liked to sleep in them, loving the feel of the fabric against her skin, and the fact the split was in the right place.

Her passion was to put on female clothing in the privacy of her bedroom. The small two room building, where she used to live with her mother, was attached to the back of the big house where her father and sister resided.

To feel and act like a real woman was the only thing Storm yearned for. Her dresses and undergarments were all gifts from her sister, and were the only feminine items she possessed. She had to keep them hidden for fear her father would find them. If her father knew she wasn’t the son he wanted, she’d be given away or sold off to one of the fur traders like her sisters before her.

She’d better be quick. She couldn’t afford for her father to come over while she was still in a state of undress and discover her secret. Storm reached for her breastplate and bandages, she would soon have her chest flattened and secured in place.

In no time, she was out of her female pantaloons and wearing men’s undergarments, buckskin leather pants, and a baggy men’s shirt. Sitting on the bed, she pulled on buckskin boots. Throwing on her tasseled sleeved leather jacket, she tied a woven leather belt low on her waist. Just enough to secure the front of the jacket, but not enough to outline her figure.

As she left her room to see what her father wanted, she paused while braiding her hair, to admire the setting sun. She took in the beauty of the sky that was almost purple, with hints of orange, yellow and red hues. Storm loved the smell of the outdoors and the earthiness about it.

She wrapped her long plait loosely around her neck and out of the way. Storm wished she could tell her pa she was really a girl, but she’d promised her mother on her deathbed she would only reveal her true nature to her father when she found a man she wanted to marry.

She’d always known she was different, but she didn’t know how different. At first she just thought the difference was skin deep. Realization came when she was about seven, and a group of similar aged boys, who also lived on or near the ranch, decided to go swimming in the river near her home. She was reluctant to remove her clothes when she saw how different the other boys looked without clothes. Storm had run home crying thinking she was broken.

She’d never seen her mother so afraid and angry when she asked her why she was broken. Her mother told her never to go to the river with the boys again. Then she’d told her she wasn’t broken, she was fine.

But she wasn’t a boy. She was actually a girl, like her sister Emma, and her pa was never to find out. If he did, she’d be sent away. Storm wasn’t to tell him, she wasn’t to tell anyone. No one could ever know their secret.

Things began to make sense to her, like why her mother always accompanied her to the bathroom. She was never bathed outdoors like the other children, away inside and always in private. Later, when she was older, her mother told her the story of what happened to her sisters. Storm was sufficiently scared into keeping her identity hidden.

Storm’s mother had been mixed-blood too. Before her father became a rancher, he was a fur trader. Her grandfather sold her mother to him. Her mother had helped her father make enough money to buy and settle on the ranch.

Although he’d still traded in furs, he was more focused on cattle because that’s where the money was. Over the years, she bore him three daughters. When the first two came of age, her father had sold them on to other fur traders. Storm had thought her father was an evil man. However, her mother told her she’d been lucky to have been given to a man like her father because he was good to her. Other women in her position weren’t so fortunate.

However, the richer and more powerful her father became, the more he yearned for a son. After thirty years together, it seemed her mother was only able to produce girls. Her father courted the youngest sister of a friend of his and married her.

Her father’s new wife and her mother were pregnant at the same time. Fearing Storm would be the last child she’d ever have, and believing his other wife would give him the son he desired so badly, her mother told her father Storm was a boy. She’d hoped if his Christian wife gave him a boy too, he would allow her to finally raise a child she could keep.

Two weeks later, Emma was born. Storm’s mother had feared for her life when her father said she’d have to give Storm up for Emma’s mother to raise as her own, then sighed in relief when the other woman refused. His wife had believed that it would reduce his social status if he were to declare a mixed-blood son as his successor.

Her father was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Now he had the son he always wanted, but he couldn’t claim him. So Storm was left in her mother’s care.

Storm let herself in through the back door of the big house. She heard voices coming from her father’s study so she made her way there. She opened the door and went inside.

What were US marshals doing here?

Her father looked aged and tired.

Hello, Storm said, as she looked at the faces in the room.

Storm, this is Cole and Colt Dalton. Storm nodded to the marshals. My boy Storm. The marshals are here because Emma’s been taken.

Taken?

She’s been abducted boy, keep up. her father sighed. The marshals are going to need your tracking skills to get her back. Her father turned to the marshals. Take Storm with you. He don’t look like much but he’s the best tracker in these parts. If anyone can find Emma, it’ll be her brother.

Storm looked at her father in disbelief. Her mouth went dry and an ashy tongue sought to moisten her lips. The blood drained from her face, and the vein in her neck spasmed, as an icy sensation washed over her.

This was her fault—had she not fallen asleep and met her sister like she was supposed to, none of this would have happened.

Storm knew this was her father's worst nightmare as the same thing had happened to Emma’s mother when Emma was about a year old. The outcome had been tragic. Her eyes darted from one face in the room to another. As her gaze went from one brother to the next, for some reason, Colt’s face seemed to be stand out more. Cole’s features appeared to fog over in her mind.

Do you know where she was taken? Storm asked her father.

Down by the river.

How long?

Maybe around noon.

Noon? Why didn’t someone say something sooner?

It was one of the children, who shouldn’t have been down by the river, who saw it happen. They didn’t say anything until now for fear of being in trouble. I’ve told the marshals here, from the description, it has to be Red Ken Walker. And if it’s him, he’s taken her to the mountains.

Okay, let’s go

Don’t you want to wait until morning when it’s light out? Cole asked.

Storm regarded Cole for a moment. Why couldn’t she see his face clearly?  No, I don’t want them to have a day’s start on us. I’ll grab some supplies, and meet you out front. We leave now. Storm didn’t want to waste time waiting for first light. If anything happened to Emma, she would never forgive herself.

Besides, she had the eyes of a hawk.

Chapter 2

Emma lay flat on the grass by the river, staring at the sky and chewing on a long blade of grass. The air smelled fresh and clean, like it usually did just after it rained. Her fingers tangled in the blades of grass tickling her palm as she enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of her surroundings.

Storm had gone out with the men herding cattle. Sometimes Emma went with them, but not today. Today she hadn’t felt up to it. They were moving out too early for her liking. Using a coded message, she'd arranged to meet up with Storm when she got back so they could go for a swim. Emma felt bad for Storm knowing her sister had to go through life pretending to be a boy.

It wasn't fair.

She hoped someday Storm would be able to walk in this world being exactly who she wanted to be. They’d always been close, even when they were growing up. Their father had seen to that, telling them even though they had different mothers, it didn’t stop them from being family. He’d said Storm was always to look out for his little sister.

When Storm's mother told her she was really a girl, Storm had sought Emma out and confided in her, telling her to promise never to tell their father, or she would be sent away. Storm had cried so hard, repeating the story her mother had told her about their other two siblings. Then, she’d never seen her cry again.

It hurt Emma to think she had two more sisters somewhere out there. Sisters they may never get to meet. Her heart had hardened against her pa a little that day. At first, Emma had demanded they go straight to their father and get the others back. Storm begged her not to say anything. She’d been so scared she peed her pants.

Emma felt ashamed as she recalled the day.

Although they were family, their status was different. When they were younger, Emma had found it difficult to understand. In her childlike mind there was no difference.  But their father spoke double-talk. In private, they were kin, and although he allowed Storm to call him pa, he never introduced Storm as his son to gentry.

When his fancy friends turned up, Storm wasn’t even allowed in the house. Emma would sometimes see pain in her father’s eyes when he had to turn Storm away. It never stopped him doing it though.

Storm being part Indian was a barrier which was always going to go against her.

Emma slowly began to understand how things worked. She’d always seen Storm as her equal, but others would not, including their father. The man was conflicted. It saddened her to think her sister may never find a husband or have children while their father was alive.

Like Storm, Emma was convinced if their father knew Storm’s gender, he would send her away or marry her off to one of the outback tradesmen. Emma would never see her again.

Life was so unfair.

An unfamiliar sound in the bushes rattled her into awareness.