Children of the Storm Read Online Free PDF

and began to fill up the hangers in the enormous walk-in closet. She was nearly half finished with her unpacking when the knock came at her door, loud and rapid and insistent. She finished slipping a dress onto another hanger and put that away in the closet before she went to see who knocked.
        When she opened the door, she stepped back slightly, sucking in her breath, wondering whether she ought to slam the door shut again. The man on the other side was positively menacing: better than six feet tall, so broad at the shoulders that- had he been wearing a jacket instead of a lightweight white shirt-she might have thought he was wearing padding. His chest was huge, stomach flat, arms like those of a serious-minded weight-lifter-all corded with muscle, thick and sinewy. His face was broad, his features crude enough to be the preliminary work of a sculptor hacking at a new piece of granite. His eyes were intensely blue and watchful, his nose twisted and gristly from having once been broken and badly repaired. His lips were thin, almost cruel, and were not now curled into either a smile or a frown, but held tight and bloodless and straight, as if he were just barely able to hold down his fury. She could not imagine what he could be furious with her for.
        “Miss Carter?”
        His voice was hard, raspy, and-if a voice could be described by more than sound-cold enough to chill her.
        “Yes?”
        Her own voice sounded small, weak and miserable by comparison, and she wondered if he could sense her uncertainty and her fear.
        “My name's Rudolph Saine.”
        “Pleased to meet you,” she said, though she was not particularly pleased at all.
        He said, “I'm the childrens' bodyguard.”
        “I hadn't heard they had one,” she said.
        He nodded. “That's understandable. The other members of the staff don't know me that well yet, and since they've all been together for years, I sort of fade out of their minds. I only came on with Mr. Dougherty when he had to move down here. And most of my time is spent with the kids, away from the others.”
        “Well, Mr. Saine,” she said, “I imagine you and I will be seeing quite a lot of each other.” The prospect didn't please her, but she tried to smile for him.
        “Yes,” he said. He looked at her carefully, as if scrutinizing a possibly dangerous insect, apparently decided she had no sting. “I'd like to talk with you about the chidrens' safety-some Do's and Don'ts, if you want to call them that.” He had moved his lips, but he had still avoided smiling or frowning, almost as if those expressions were completely beyond him. Sonya found him too sober and serious to be at ease with.
        “I'm just unpacking-” she began.
        “I won't take long.”
        “Well-”
        “I want to get some things straight, between us, right from the very start.”
        She hesitated a moment more, then stepped back, holding the door, and said, “Come in.”
        Rudolph Saine sat in the largest of the two easy chairs in the room and nearly filled it to overflowing. He gripped the cedar arms in his hands, as if he were afraid the thing might start to fly at any moment-or as if he thought he might have to get up in a great rush and launch himself at some enemy or other.
        Sonya chose the edge of the mammoth Polynesian bed and said, “Now, Mr. Saine, what should I know?”
        He said, “You must never take the kids anywhere without calling me first. Every time you venture away from the house, you must be certain that I am with you.”
        “Sounds simple enough.”
        “Even if you're only taking them out to the pavilion,” he elaborated, “I want to go along.”
        “I'll remember that.”
        “I feel they're safe within the house itself, during the daylight hours anyway, but I never feel comfortable when they're outside.”
        “I can understand that.”
        “Even when they're in