Wild Thunder

“Hannah?” Strong Wolf said, turning slow eyes her way again.

She smiled sheepishly at him, then turned quickly away and watched Tiny as he approached on horseback toward them.

“Who is that, Hannah?” Chuck asked, squinting his eyes, trying to see.

“Tiny,” Hannah said, glowering at the tiny man.

“Just the man I need to see,” Chuck said.

Tiny dismounted and stepped around Strong Wolf, their eyes locked in silent battle. He went on the porch and stood beside Chuck.

“Chuck, what’s he doin’ here?” Tiny grumbled, nervously fingering a rust-colored mustache. Freckles were thick on this thin, weather-beaten face. His wide-brimmed Stetson hat was sweat-stained. His chaps were briar-scratched.

“Tiny, Strong Wolf says he found a dam built across a stream that belongs to him,” Chuck said, his voice guarded. “You did it, didn’t you, Tiny? No one else would.”

“I had help, if that’s what you mean,” the tiny, redheaded man said, sneering as he gazed at Strong Wolf.

“You know you’re wrong, don’t you, Tiny?” Chuck said, his voice sounding tired.

“I had to,” Tiny argued. “It’s necessary for the operation of the gristmill that has recently been built at the ranch.”

“Tiny, destroy the dam,” Chuck said, heaving a deep sigh. “We can find other ways to run the gristmill.”

“But, Chuck, this is the only way,” Tiny argued.

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nbsp; “Tiny, we don’t want no trouble with the Potawatomis, now, do we?” Chuck said impatiently.

“You’d think they’d understand,” Tiny grumbled.

“The dam you built has interfered in my people’s lives,” Strong Wolf said, not allowing this man to sway the rancher against the decision that he had already made. “When the hunt for game is slow, then fish in the stream is good for my people’s cook fires. The dam must be destroyed. And that is my last word. It is final.”

Chuck turned to Tiny, his jaw tight. “Remove the dam, damn it,” he growled out. “Remove it immediately.”

Strong Wolf breathed in a slow, quivering breath. He was glad that this confrontation was settled with the landowner, yet he did see a troubled path ahead with the tiny man. He could see the rage in the depths of his gray eyes as Tiny continued to glare at him. Strong Wolf could see how he clasped and unclasped his hands into tight fists at his sides.

Yes, this was a man who would not accept defeat all that easily. But Strong Wolf was a much better man than he, and would never let the man best him.

Confident that the dam would be removed and that he had been wrong to test the waters of friendship with this landowner, who until now had offered him friendship, Strong Wolf gazed intensely at Chuck.

“Friends still?” he said, squaring his shoulders.

“Yes, friends still,” Chuck said, nervously clearing his throat.

Strong Wolf turned slow eyes to Hannah. “Friends?” he said, his eyes locking with hers.

Hannah’s whole insides melted when she met his direct, intense gaze. Her knees weakened as she reached a hand out toward him. “Yes, friends,” she murmured, her heart leaping when he placed his powerful hand in hers and shook it.

Tiny emitted a disgusted groan from the depths of his throat, then stalked away. Day by day his hate for the Potawatomis was growing inside him. And today was the last straw! His schemes, thus far, to discourage these Indians from staying in this area had not been severe enough. The Indians’ farmland was thriving. Their people were well and happy. Yes, he must turn to more severe measures to change this.

All that Tiny had schemed to own—all of Chuck’s land and possessions—was threatened, not only because of the stubborn Indian, but now also because Chuck’s sister was there to care for him. He had wasted too much time waiting for Chuck to become completely blind so he could swindle Chuck out of all that he owned—a ranch and hundreds of acres of farm and grazing land. He had never suspected that Chuck would have a relative come to live with him, to help him with his affliction, especially not an interfering sister.

As Tiny saw it, Chuck’s sister was an obstacle to his plans, and the Potawatomis had land that he wanted for his own ranch. He was now not only Chuck’s foreman, but also his bookkeeper, and if he had calculated right in placing the wrong entries in Chuck’s ledgers, Chuck’s land would soon be Tiny’s.

And he must act soon, before Hannah was shown the ledgers.

Tiny sneered, then laughed to himself when he thought of how asinine Chuck had been to trust Tiny to care for the journals. Chuck no longer had the ability to even add up figures to see if they balanced.