Free Black Hills (9781101559116) by Rod Thompson Page B

first into a snowbank. Before she could regain her footing, Cormac was on her, turning her over onto her back and straddling her with a firm grip on each of her arms. Other than turning her head from side to side or kicking her feet into the air, she was pinned for fair.
    â€œAll right, Miss Nayle !” he spit at her. “What is so dadblamed funny about Ireland wearing kelly green for you on your birthday?”
    Wide-eyed, she looked up at him. “Oh no!” startled out of her, and she struggled hard not to laugh. “Oh no!” Holding in the laugh turned out to be impossible and it burst out uncontrollably.
    Cormac was astounded and began babbling utterances that made no sense in furious anger. When shaking her arms proved to be a worthless effort, he grabbed the lapels of her heavy coat and bounced her up and down in the snow.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she got out through the laughter. “It was just a joke. Honest. I was going to tell you later, but I forgot to.”
    â€œSo you made a fool out of me and now you think it’s funny. See if this is funny.” He let go of her arm, grabbed a scooping handful of snow, and began roughly pushing it down her neck and washing her face with it.
    Lainey tried to turn away. “Cormie, I’m sorry. Stop, please! That’s hurting me.”
    He paid her no attention and grabbed more snow and pushed it more roughly across her face. If he could have seen her eyes or the look on her face, he might have changed his plan. With her free hand, she made a fist and smacked the side of his head with as much force as she could muster. From the position she was in, a good swing was impossible, but it was hard enough to get his attention. He jumped to his feet, grabbed her from off the ground like a sack of flour, and pitched her into a deep snowdrift beside them.
    â€œDon’t do that again,” he said angrily, and stomped off toward the barn.
    Lainey Nayle was angry. Cormac had made her mad before, but never like this. Face and ears red and burning, her freckles standing our fiercely, and her green eyes flashing, she seethed as she watched him disappear into the barn. She climbed out of the snowbank, and after wiping as much of the snow as she could from the neck of her clothes, she strode purposefully into the house.
    â€œMaybe we should head for the storm cellar,” Mr. Schwartz whispered when they saw the look on her face.
    Without a word, Lainey helped prepare supper and, instead of placing the food bowls on the table as usual, she set out the plates of individually dished-out food, making it obvious that she had made a plate especially for Cormac and set it before him. Making it a point of watching him all the while, she filled her own plate and ate hungrily.
    Cormac had been repairing broken fence posts away from the farm buildings and missed dinner. “I’m starving,” he said as they finished saying grace. But when he saw how Lainey was watching him, he was afraid to eat. He knew she had done something unusual to his food. Without touching it, with a deep sigh, he finally rose from the table and went outside, catching his coat from its hook on the way.
    â€œVut did yoo do tooo his food?” Mrs. Schwartz wanted to know.
    â€œNothing,” Lainey answered sweetly. “Absolutely nothing. I don’t know whatever gave you that idea.”
    Reaching with her fork, the self-satisfied redhead angelically took a bite of food from each of the items on his plate before happily finishing her own supper. With tiny smiles, the Schwartzes could only look at each other and shake their heads hopelessly. Cormac went to bed with no supper that night.
    He was sleeping soundly and dreaming of a big plate of liver and onions and mashed potatoes and corn on the cob and still-warm fresh-made bread with a tall glass of milk to wash it down when suddenly the skies in his dream opened up and a blizzard was dumping snow in clumps on his