she was young. Perhaps he was right—playing with a man of Graham Hollis's experience and strength was dangerous.
He was war-hardened and had performed unspeakable acts during battle. Kathleen had heard reports of soldiers turning into thieves, murderers, and rapists. While she didn't think Graham was any of these things, he could definitely put the fear of God into a person. He was a Hollis man, after all.
That wasn't about to stop her.
She strolled past the barn entrance and glanced inside.
"Come, Kathleen. See the new addition to the barn,” her father called out.
She halted in her tracks and started into the structure, blinded for a moment by the dimness. Once her eyes adjusted, she easily made out Graham's tall form. He moved toward the stall, his fists clenched and his hat pulled low over his eyes.
Was he glaring at her?
She tried to appear indifferent to the touch of his gaze, but her insides quivered. In the short time since she'd set eyes on him, she'd made up her mind she wanted a man exactly like him. Or, more particularly, him.
She carefully avoided looking at him, though every inch of her flesh rose to his presence. Instead, she peered into the stall at the newborn calf, which had gained its feet and stood with legs splayed outward.
It was impossible not to smile at the sight of the dear little face, its long lashes bristly over its newly opened eyes. She moved into the stall and stroked Clarabell's nose. “Well done, my beauty,” she crooned.
Glancing up, she caught Graham's sharp movement as he tugged his hat lower. Another notch and it would be completely pulled over his nose.
A laugh bubbled up her throat and trickled out. She turned back to the cow, trying to disguise her slip as meant for the beasts. It is meant for a beast of a different breed.
She struggled to draw breath as she realized this was exactly the reason she was so drawn to Graham. He was no ordinary man. She knew enough of his past to know pain still clutched him tightly. It was etched around his mouth and in the depths of his golden-brown eyes. Even before the war, Graham had stood out from the happy-go-lucky Hollis bunch. Something about his darkness had always called to her.
He took a hasty step toward her and then drew up short. But not before her father caught the gesture.
"I'm surprised you're not abed, Kathleen,” Pa said. He shot a glance at Graham out of the corner of his eye. “She enjoys walks in the moonlight and is often up until all hours."
Her heart thrilled, and she suddenly felt hot and cold, jittery. Her pa was giving Graham important information, providing him an opportunity to return and find her alone. She fought her smile, wanting to run to her father and hug him tight.
"A fine calf, Pa. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hollis.” She drifted past him, aware of his scent and the energy rolling off him in waves. “I'll be inside. I've got some baking to do."
She left the barn. This time, she had no urge to look over her shoulder to see if Graham's gaze followed her. Because she knew this evening when she was out walking through the high grasses and staring at the stars, she'd have company.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Graham paced before the stable in the late evening hours, driving his boot heels into the earth and cutting divots. It did nothing to lighten his mood. The insatiable need to sink his fists into something hard rose up in his mind.
As often happened when he was in a passion, images flitted in his mind, rapid-fire scenes that brought more torment than ease. Yanking a man off his feet and driving his knife into his chest, leaving the blade quivering as Graham ran on into the battle. Blue coats coming at them, marching on and on, the fear sucking at Graham's chest as he stared at the sea of faces—men he was about to kill.
Bella's dark eyes rolling up in her head...
"Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the side of the stable, causing the board to shake beneath the
He was war-hardened and had performed unspeakable acts during battle. Kathleen had heard reports of soldiers turning into thieves, murderers, and rapists. While she didn't think Graham was any of these things, he could definitely put the fear of God into a person. He was a Hollis man, after all.
That wasn't about to stop her.
She strolled past the barn entrance and glanced inside.
"Come, Kathleen. See the new addition to the barn,” her father called out.
She halted in her tracks and started into the structure, blinded for a moment by the dimness. Once her eyes adjusted, she easily made out Graham's tall form. He moved toward the stall, his fists clenched and his hat pulled low over his eyes.
Was he glaring at her?
She tried to appear indifferent to the touch of his gaze, but her insides quivered. In the short time since she'd set eyes on him, she'd made up her mind she wanted a man exactly like him. Or, more particularly, him.
She carefully avoided looking at him, though every inch of her flesh rose to his presence. Instead, she peered into the stall at the newborn calf, which had gained its feet and stood with legs splayed outward.
It was impossible not to smile at the sight of the dear little face, its long lashes bristly over its newly opened eyes. She moved into the stall and stroked Clarabell's nose. “Well done, my beauty,” she crooned.
Glancing up, she caught Graham's sharp movement as he tugged his hat lower. Another notch and it would be completely pulled over his nose.
A laugh bubbled up her throat and trickled out. She turned back to the cow, trying to disguise her slip as meant for the beasts. It is meant for a beast of a different breed.
She struggled to draw breath as she realized this was exactly the reason she was so drawn to Graham. He was no ordinary man. She knew enough of his past to know pain still clutched him tightly. It was etched around his mouth and in the depths of his golden-brown eyes. Even before the war, Graham had stood out from the happy-go-lucky Hollis bunch. Something about his darkness had always called to her.
He took a hasty step toward her and then drew up short. But not before her father caught the gesture.
"I'm surprised you're not abed, Kathleen,” Pa said. He shot a glance at Graham out of the corner of his eye. “She enjoys walks in the moonlight and is often up until all hours."
Her heart thrilled, and she suddenly felt hot and cold, jittery. Her pa was giving Graham important information, providing him an opportunity to return and find her alone. She fought her smile, wanting to run to her father and hug him tight.
"A fine calf, Pa. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hollis.” She drifted past him, aware of his scent and the energy rolling off him in waves. “I'll be inside. I've got some baking to do."
She left the barn. This time, she had no urge to look over her shoulder to see if Graham's gaze followed her. Because she knew this evening when she was out walking through the high grasses and staring at the stars, she'd have company.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Graham paced before the stable in the late evening hours, driving his boot heels into the earth and cutting divots. It did nothing to lighten his mood. The insatiable need to sink his fists into something hard rose up in his mind.
As often happened when he was in a passion, images flitted in his mind, rapid-fire scenes that brought more torment than ease. Yanking a man off his feet and driving his knife into his chest, leaving the blade quivering as Graham ran on into the battle. Blue coats coming at them, marching on and on, the fear sucking at Graham's chest as he stared at the sea of faces—men he was about to kill.
Bella's dark eyes rolling up in her head...
"Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the side of the stable, causing the board to shake beneath the
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