The Bridal Contract. Susan Fox P.

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СКАЧАТЬ a new one before dawn, was the time she had to finally walk into the big house, where the only person there was a housekeeper. Yet more often than not, Margie’s work would be done and she’d have gone home.

      Fay continued to watch the clouds, letting the growing danger send a tingle of peril through her to offset the bleakness she felt at the idea of going home to an empty house. The wind blew harder now, and the fat raindrops gave way to smaller, faster drops. The sky continued to rumble and flash, as if to warn her, and the anger she’d been numb to for months began to stir. Suddenly it burst into outrage.

      The boys hadn’t been given a warning; they’d never had a chance. One moment they’d been having the time of their lives learning to water ski; the next, they’d been struck by a boat and drowned. They’d barely had a hint of what was coming, and no chance to escape it.

      The agony of that knowledge was unbearable, and her failure to come to terms with it this past year stoked the conflagration of pain and anger until she was wild with it. If death meant to reach out for her now, too, then it could damn well get on with it while she was watching.

      The defiant thought was buttressed by an avalanche of self-pity. What did she really have left anyway, but a life of work and responsibility that was dominated by grief and loss and regret? Her heart had been crushed and sometimes she felt so hollow and hurt so much that she wasn’t sure she could scrape up enough courage to face another moment.

      One stroke of lightning could put a quick end to the relentless march of endless gray days, and the idea grew more tantalizing by the second. After weeks and months of being numb, the mounting chaos of dark feelings was overwhelming. The knowledge that she wanted to die made her feel even more defiant.

      The sorrel began to prance again and toss his head, but Fay kept the reins tight, all but daring death to strike her down as brutally as it had her brothers. As if the storm was eager to accommodate her, the wind began to blow even harder. Marble-size bits of hail beat down with the rain, then abruptly stopped, and the sorrel tossed his head again, snorting impatiently.

      Fay was so caught up in the storm and the anger that boiled impotently inside her that she was slow to distinguish the distant shouts over the roar of the wind. Once they caught her attention, the shouts became louder and more distinct.

      Fay!

      Run, Fay!

      Go now—please!

      The sound of her name in the roar and the urgent message jolted her.

      Fay—don’t do it!

      Run!

      Recognition struck her heart like a closed fist, and sent a rash of goose bumps over her skin. The world tipped, and she felt the fleeting touch of something otherworldly, yet familiar. Shaken to her soul, she glanced wildly around.

      “Ty? Troy?”

      She hadn’t mistaken her brothers’ voices, and yet she couldn’t possibly have heard them call to her. As she continued to glance around and strained to hear their voices in the howl of the storm, she realized she was trembling.

      The sorrel had taken advantage of her distraction and was moving away from the fence, though Fay’s grip had frozen on the reins and she was still holding him back.

      Her brain was in shock, and her heart all but bled with longing to hear those beloved voices again.

      Had she lost her mind? The question burst into her consciousness, bringing a new torment. Her heart was pounding hard enough to make her chest ache as her thoughts ran crazily for an explanation. She knew her brothers’ voices and always would, but to hear them so clearly, and to feel that otherworldly touch…

      Fay loosened the sorrel’s reins, still straining to hear their voices, but suddenly a little afraid she would. Maybe going crazy and hearing voices was the next turn in the downward spiral she’d been on, and the idea shook her up even more.

      She couldn’t deal with this, couldn’t cope. The knowledge that she’d reached her emotional limit sent anxiety pumping through her. She urged the sorrel into a trot away from the fence in the rain-slick grass in an instinctive need to flee what she couldn’t understand, but just as she signaled him into a gallop, the air suddenly went blindingly white. The simultaneous boom of thunder sent the sorrel shying hard to the side, taking Fay so by surprise that she lost her balance and clung to the side of the saddle.

      A second flash and boom, even more blinding and deafening than the first, made the sorrel lunge the other way, literally pitching her from one side of the saddle to the other. At the same instant, his back hooves slipped and his backside started to go down. Fay managed to yank her left boot from the stirrup to keep from getting a foot trapped, but the sorrel caught himself and lurched awkwardly to his feet.

      He barely got all four hooves solidly beneath him before he rocketed away, breaking her hold, and the hard, wet ground leaped up to slam the breath out of her.

      Fay Sheridan had been different when her brothers were alive. Energetic, full of fun, her never-met-a-stranger personality had made her a stand out. Her younger twin brothers, Ty and Troy, had been a lot like her. Handsome, competitive, but in their cases, always up to something. Fay had handled them good-naturedly, tough and strict when they’d needed it, but managing to walk that precarious line between proud big sister and parent after their momma and daddy had died five years back.

      Then a year ago, the world had tragically changed for Fay, robbing her of her brothers, but also stealing away the happy, vital young woman that nearly every single male in that part of Texas had taken note of. She’d become something of a hermit after those first weeks, exiling herself from the ranch community in general, old friends in particular, and neighbors when she could. For the past year few people, other than her housekeeper and ranch hands, got more than a fleeting glimpse of her.

      Chase Rafferty had been one of the few, regularly pushing his way into her life and into her business. That’s why he was driving to the boundary fence late that afternoon. One of his men had seen Fay out this way, and since the weather service had issued multiple storm watches and warnings, Chase had decided to see if she was still out here. He didn’t trust that she’d ridden on home.

      The moment he’d seen the slim female atop the sorrel, he’d known he was right to investigate. The storm was almost on top of her, but instead of sensibly making tracks to shelter Fay was watching the clouds, frittering away precious minutes that could have ensured she safely reached home. It was foolish to gawk at a storm while she was so exposed to the danger of lightning, and in the case of this storm, it was suicidal.

      And that’s the real reason he was here. Fay Sheridan had lost her way and, despite the stubborn front she put up, he’d sensed the recklessness in her. Now he was seeing it, and he shoved down on the truck’s accelerator to intervene as the big raindrops on his windshield changed to a wind-lashed deluge.

      A bright flash of lightning and cannon shot of thunder was quickly followed by a second flash that struck close. The almost instantaneous explosion of thunder set the sorrel off and Chase watched through the rain-sheeted windshield as the horse started to go down, scrambled for footing, then bolted away without his rider.

      The gate between Rafferty/Keenan and Sheridan land was more than a mile away, so he steered his big truck toward the fence. The impact of the truck against four strands of taut wire was minimal, but he felt a moment of resistance before the wire gave way. Once the truck was clear of the wire, he cranked the wheel to the left and circled to find where Fay had landed.

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