Free Storm by Jayne Fresina Page A

up, also demanding to know what had happened.
    "Mrs. Putnam has chosen to lease the property to a young lady who approached her very recently with a proposition. One which the widow, apparently, preferred to the notion of selling."
    "But this auction has been planned for a fortnight," Storm's father exclaimed loudly, causing the agent to cower behind his book until only his eyes and the bridge of his nose might be seen.
    "It is...regrettable, Mr. Deverell, but she is resolved to abandon the idea of selling and prefers to lease—"
    "Lease it to whom?"
    The agent looked around and pointed a gnarled, ink-stained finger. "Here comes the young lady now, sir. You may direct your questions to her."
    Storm turned, as did his father and Restarick. The small crowd parted, and there, gripping her son's hand, stood Kate Kelly.
    He could scarce believe his eyes. Of all things he might have expected to see that morning, she was not one of them. The surprise chased his breath away and left him speechless for a moment.
    Joss Restarick spoke first. " She was at your farm yesterday, Deverell. You put her up to this! It's a scheme. You sent her to bargain for a lease with Putnam's widow, behind my back!" It made no sense, of course, but few things that young man said in the heat of temper ever did.
    Meanwhile the woman at the center of all the furor walked forward boldly, head high, lips set firm. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, if you're disappointed. But I simply put my bid to Mrs. Putnam yesterday evening and she agreed." She still wore that fancy riding habit— a garment now eyed dubiously by the locals who gathered in a knot behind her, every ear listening avidly to this encounter. "My son decided he liked the spot, so I have leased it for one year to see if we might settle here."
    Finally Storm got his tongue in motion. "You knew I had plans for this place."
    "And that means nobody else may have any?"
    "You're a woman." A woman, he might have added, in possession of nothing but a cart load of old furniture. How was she paying rent?
    Her eyes flared. "A woman? You don't say!"
    "A woman can't run a farm. Especially one who, yesterday, didn't know how to do much of anything." He smirked. "Except get herself stuck. And lie about her purpose here."
    "I did not lie. You are the one who decided I must be your new housekeeper. I was merely looking for Reverend Coles."
    "So you ate my good bacon, drank my tea, dried yourself by my fire and then snatched this place up from under me at the first opportunity." He kept his voice low and carefully measured, having no desire to be overheard by the crowd of onlookers.
    She, however, spoke boldly and at some volume. "Let me know what I owe you for the bacon, sir. I should have known that when a man shares his meat with a woman there is always a bill to pay."
    Someone in the crowd tittered, and Storm felt his temperature rising. He clenched his fingers into fists and pushed them down into his coat pockets. "And I should have known that looking kindly on a woman and saving her from a flood is likely to cost me ."
    She ran a swift hand over the small buttons of her fancy riding habit. "I really don't know what all the fuss is about." Oh, she was cool as a cucumber, he thought darkly. Liar.
    "You had no right to come here and—"
    "I'm sure I had as much right as you." Her expression was fiercely determined.
    "How did you know where to find the Widow Putnam?"
    She licked her lips, and he thought he saw just a hint of guilt gleaming in her eye before she blinked. "You mentioned that she had moved in with her sister at a place called St. Austell, so I looked on your map above the fire to find that town. When I got there I made inquiries—"
    "And then you stole this place away from under us!" Restarick yelled.
    "I didn't steal anything. I am paying a good and fair rent to Mrs. Putnam. I daresay if anyone was looking to steal, it was you men, trying to get the farm from her for as little as possible to make a great