Free Storm by Jayne Fresina

Storm didn't think much of traps. In his opinion they were cruel and unnecessary, because most of the time they led to a slow and painful death for the animal caught. To be merciful, death should be quick.
    Funny, he mused, how a discussion about love and matrimony should lead his mind to death.
    * * * *
    When he returned to the farm late that afternoon, Jack ran out to greet him with the usual gruff bark and a wag, but a few moments later, striding through the open door, he found his expectations confirmed.
    She was gone. His housekeeper had turned down the post.
    Storm fell into his chair and stretched out his legs. In truth he felt a little relief. The calm equilibrium was restored.
    He put his arms behind his head and stared into the fire. At least, with no woman about to disapprove, he could come and go as he pleased, eat when he wanted and what he wanted, dress comfortably, let out his belt as needed and burp as required. Didn't have to watch his language, mind what he looked at, or take care not to offend anyone by being honest.
    Really, he was a lucky man to have all this to himself. Who needed a housekeeper? Olivia had made him think he needed one, but he ought to know better. Get his life in order for what? He was perfectly content with everything just the way it was. As his father said, women had a tendency to move a man's belongings around in the interests of being "tidy", and then nothing could ever be found when it was needed.
    At that moment his other little stray appeared, that black, whiskered face peeping around the open door.
    "There you are, damnable pest. I thought I was well rid of you."
    Grumbling under his breath, Storm got up immediately to pour out the saucer of milk now clearly expected. He set it down by the hearth and watched the sleek creature cross his floor in a smooth glide, that long tail curled upward gracefully.
    With a gusty sigh he sank back into his old chair again and after a while the cat leapt onto his knee, waiting for the nightly scratch between its ears.
    "Getting bold and bossy, aren't you?"
    But the creature still kept an eye on him, ready to jump off at the first change of mood or tone.
    "Perhaps I'll call you Duchess," he said. There was a distinct resemblance in attitude.
    It was, he decided briskly, just as well that she was gone. He was already more fascinated by her than he should be. Who knew what that curiosity would lead him into? It was just as dangerous for men as it was for cats.

Chapter Five
    At least it wasn't raining. That was his first thought as he rode up to the Putnam farm the next morning. With all that old furniture standing out to be bid upon, it would have been a great shame to see it get wet, warped and spoiled. He always thought there was a certain sadness about house sales.
    "Don't be soft," his father would mutter, laughing at him for that peculiar thoughtfulness, which was a trait so unlike a Deverell.
    But as he drew nearer to the farmhouse, Storm noticed there were fewer scavengers at the sale than he'd expected, much less activity. And no furniture out in the yard.
    Odd. Then he saw Joss Restarick arguing with a slender, pinch-faced fellow, who had just removed a pair of spectacles as if he feared he might be punched in the eye. Of course, Restarick quarrelling with someone was nothing unusual, but Storm sensed something more afoot on this otherwise sunny morning.
    He dismounted and walked over to the two men, shouldering his way through the small group of bewildered onlookers. "What is it? What's going on here?"
    Joss spun around, his face red, lips straining over his teeth. "Bloody woman changed her mind about selling!"
    " What? The Putnam widow can't manage this place alone. I thought she was staying with her sister."
    Clutching a ledger to his chest, the agent replied somberly, "I'm afraid she has decided upon an alternate plan, gentlemen, and is leasing the house and land to a tenant."
    Before Storm could ask another question, his father came