Eye of the Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

you ever found yourself in a losing situation?"
    She resisted the impulse to touch the scar that daily recalled her brush with death nearly a year ago. "There have been times when the outcome was in serious question."
    "What did you do?"
      "Fought like hell until I ran out of steam. After that I just hung on and rode out the storm."
    "My tactic . . . exactly." He gave her a slow, lazy smile that sucked the air out of her lungs and sent her head spinning. "We're more alike than I thought," he said softly.
    In an effort to regain her balance she slipped her arm around the horse's neck, then withdrew abruptly when her hand and Stormwalker's met. Unsettled by a flash of recognition at his words and rattled by a touch that felt more intimate and inviting than it should have, she stepped backwards, barely able to say, "I have no other questions," and started for the door.
    "Come back any time you think I can help," he called out. "With anything."
    With her composure sorely shaken, she raised a hand in acknowledgment and ventured out into the wind that followed her down the street, buffeting and pushing her along, echoing the inner storm tearing at her. She made it to the RV just as the first rain drops fell.

     

    *****

     
    Zan woke early to a world washed clean and cool by the previous night's storm. She opened the refrigerator but nothing appealed to her. After brushing her teeth and running a comb through her hair, she grabbed her knapsack and an apple and headed for the general store.
    Inside, she acknowledged John-Two Hunter's greeting with a smile and a wave of her hand and went to the shelves to make her selections. As she read the label on a jar of chokecherry jam, someone spoke beside her.
    "That's really good. My mom made it."
    Zan looked up at a young woman with dark eyes and darker hair. "Then I'll have to try it."
      "I'm Katti Banner." The newcomer extended her hand.
    Zan introduced herself and watched as Katti picked up a jar.
    "You might want to stock up if you like the jam - the same with all your staples. The powwow begins on Thursday and when the visitors come in they usually pick the shelves clean of everything, including my mom's stuff."
    Zan smiled. "I'll try some at breakfast."
    Katti's smile broadened. "Maybe consider the blackberry preserves, too, for variety, you know?"
    "Does your mom know what a good sales rep you are?"
    "That's my puny contribution to the business. Most of the time, I'm at my regular job."
    "What's that?"
    "Mainly I'm a court stenographer. The rest of the time I'm a civilian employee at the Sheriff's Department. There's a couple of us who do the paper work, handle the phones, dispatch . . . stuff like that."
    "Then we'll probably run into each other. I expect to show up there one of these days."
    "Good. Maybe we can have lunch. And if I can be of any help, just let me know."
    "I will," Zan said. "See you again."
    About to say something else, Katti stopped and looked toward the cash register. "Excuse me, please. There's my sister." She lifted a paper bag and went to the young woman who'd taken Stormwalker's job. With a tentative smile she held out the package only to receive a blank stare.  
    "Why can't you ever just be nice?" She laid the bag on the counter. When her sister remained silent, she threw up her hands in exasperation and left.
    Zan carried her food items to the front. By the time she made her way to the register, the sullen anger had left the girl's face.
    "Yesterday, I saw you talkin ' to that guy. You know, the one who gave this job to me 'stead of takin ' it himself." She added up the total. "So I was just wondering. . . ." She handed Zan the adding machine tape. "You know him pretty well?"
    "Some." Zan gave her several bills. "Why?"
    "Why do you suppose he did it?"
    "I don't know," Zan said with a shrug. "Sometimes people do nice things." After counting her change, she placed a quarter on the counter.
    The girl eyed her suspiciously. "What's that for?"
    "Without