Dark Stranger

spread out here. I think he comes from tobacco money, a lot of it. He went to West Point. He was in the same class as Jeb Stuart!'

Kristin stared at her sister, who appeared about to swoon. Shannon thought that the Confederate general Jeb Stuart was the handsomest, most gallant gentleman in the whole world. Shannon's reaction to Stuart's name didn't surprise her, but the fact that she seemed to know so much about Cole stunned her.

'What?' she repeated numbly.

Shannon sighed with supreme patience, as if she were the elder, explaining things to a sullen child.

'He's a Virginian, Kristin, moved to Missouri. He went to West Point. Once upon a time he was in the army in Kansas. He and Stuart served together.'

'Wonderful,' Kristin murmured.

So he was a Southerner. And he wasn't in uniform. He was one of them, one of the breed that ran with Quantrill…

She was a Southerner herself, she thought dully. Not all Southerners were like Zeke Moreau.

But Cole…

Cole had talked freely to Shannon. But the questions hadn't all been answered yet.

He had gone to West Point. He had served in the Union Army before the war with the gallant Southern cavalry officer, Jeb Stuart.

But he wasn't wearing a uniform now. Not the Union's, and not the Confederacy's. Why not?

Delilah stirred something over the fire. She wiped her hands on her apron. 'Well, Kristin? What do we do? If you want, I'll go move your things.'

Kristin swallowed. She wanted to protest. She wanted to refuse Cole Slater.

She looked at Delilah. Delilah wasn't making any judgments.

Kristin nodded. She could give up the place or she could hold tight to Cole Slater. She really had no choice. But she vowed to herself that she'd find out everything there was to know about the man.

CHAPTER FIVE

Kristin spent the day worrying about the night ahead. She prowled around upstairs, trying to keep busy. Though she hated it, she did what Cole had told her to, taking a few of her dresses and nightshirts and putting them in the armoire in her parents' bedroom.

Shannon came upstairs while she was at it. There was something about her knowing glance that made Kristin feel terribly ashamed. 'Cole — Mr. Slater — thinks that Zeke ought to think there's something… um, that he and I, that…'

'I understand,' Shannon said softly. Even her innocence was dead, Kristin thought. There was an awkward silence, but then Shannon came into the room and hugged her. 'I like him,' she told Kristin. 'I like him a whole lot.'

'Only because he knows Jeb Stuart.' Shannon made a face. 'That helps.' She sat down on the bed. 'What happened here?' she queried softly.

'What do you mean?' Kristin asked her. 'So many men are so fine. General Lee is such a gentleman, by all accounts. And Jeb Stuart is so dashing! And then out here…'

'We get the bushwhackers and the jayhawkers,' Kristin finished for her. She sat down beside Shannon and hugged her. 'And don't forget,' she reminded her, 'we have a brother fighting in Mr. Lincoln's army.'

'I never forget!' Shannon said.

They sat there in silence for a long time. Then suddenly, there was a volley of shots from outside. Kristin leaped to her feet and raced to the window.

Cole was out back with Samson. He'd set a few rows of old liquor and tonic bottles on the back fence to serve as makeshift targets. He'd already shot up the first set.

Kristin watched as he reloaded, then twirled his six-shooter in his hand and shoved it back in its holster. He paused. Then, in the wink of an eye, he cleared away another row. Then he spoke to Samson, and Kristin realized that it was a lesson.

Then it was Samson's turn with the guns. Kristin strained to hear Cole's words.

'Quantrill's boys usually carry four or five Colts, a shotgun or a rifle or maybe both. That's why they keep licking the pants off the Union troops. They're well armed, and the boys in blue are still trying to fire off muzzle- loading carbines. Zeke will always be well armed. So we've always got to be prepared to out shoot him in return. You understand, Sam?'

'Yes, Mr. Slater, that I do.'

'Let's try it again. Hold your hand steady, and squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it.'

Cole took off his plumed hat, ran his fingers through his hair and set the hat back on his head, low over his eyes. Then he said, 'Go!' and Samson drew. He shattered a fair number of the bottles, then laughed. Cole slapped him on the back, congratulating him. Then the men's voices grew low, and Kristin couldn't hear any more.

Suddenly Cole looked up at the window. It was too late. She couldn't draw away.

He smiled and waved. She almost waved back, but then she realized that Shannon had come up beside her and that it was her sister he was waving to, because she was waving down to him.

'We're moving Kristin in!' Shannon called down.

Kristin was mortified. She felt his eyes on her, she saw his slow, lazy smile. She wanted to hit Shannon over the head. She backed away from the window instead.

'You coming up?' Shannon called.

'Shannon!' Kristin hissed.

But Cole shook his head. He looked handsome then, as tall as Samson, and hard and lean in his long coat and his plumed hat. 'Tell your sister I'm on my way out to find Pete. Might be gone awhile. If I can take care of some things today, I will.'

Shannon turned to Kristin. 'Cole said —'

'I heard what Cole said.'

'Shannon!' Cole said.

'Yes, Cole?'

'Tell your sister I may be back late. Tell her she doesn't have to wait up.'

Shannon turned to Kristin. 'Cole said —'

'I heard what Cole said!'

Kristin spun around and stormed out of the room. She returned to her own room and slammed the door. She sat down on her own bed and pressed her hands against her temples. She had a staggering headache, and her nerves were as shattered as the bottles Cole had shot up.

Well, he had shattered her world, too.

She needed to get this over with quickly. She needed him to be around. She wanted him. She hated him.

She wished to God she knew him. She wished to God she could get to know him. But she didn't think he would let anyone get close to him. Anyone at all.

No involvement…

She didn't want any involvement. And he couldn't possibly make her as nervous as Zeke Moreau made her hateful.

Or could he?

If he came back at all that night, Kristin never knew it. She lay on her parents' bed until the wee hours of the morning, and then exhaustion claimed her. When she awoke, it was almost noon. No one came for her. When she dressed and went downstairs, Delilah was busy with a big pot of lye and Shannon was putting their last two-year- old colt through his paces. Kristin longed to do something, to ride somewhere, but

Samson found her in the stable and warned her that Cole had said she should stay close to home. She bit her lip but did as she was told, and Samson proudly showed her something of what he had learned.

Kristin was impressed with his newfound skill with a gun, and she told him so, but then she rested her chin on the fence and sighed. 'Is it enough, Samson? Is it enough against Zeke?'

'Maybe not me alone, Miz Kristin, but Mr. Slater had all the boys out here this morning, and he can teach a whole lot about gunplay, as well as practice it.'

'You sound like you like him a lot, Samson.'