Prairie Song by JODI THOMAS Read Free Book Online Page B

be somehow connected with the ring of outlaws who went by the noble name of Knights of the Golden Circle. Even if there was some argument among Grayson’s superiors to let the Knights die away, Grayson wasn’t ready to give up the fight. The war couldn’t just end for him; it was all that had kept him alive. It couldn’t be over—not yet.
    But, by God, he’d seen her eyes and in them a need that matched his own. Yet he couldn’t even tell her who he was or she’d hate him for the fool he’d played her. However, remaining silent was going to be as hard as standing still had been while she’d removed his shirt.

Chapter 5
     
    Cherish awoke with a start. The candle beside her bed flickered in a pool of wax and the tub’s water was icy. A low creaking echoed through the high-ceilinged rooms as though the house were groaning in its sleep. She quickly dried off and slipped into her cotton nightgown. She had no idea how late it was, for the storm kept any hint of stars or moon from sight.
    Crawling beneath the sheets, Cherish tried to get warm enough to sleep, but lightning jabbed at the blackness outside her window, making rest almost impossible. The constant roll of thunder reminded her of that night on the train. In the stillness of her room she could almost feel the stranger’s presence. Any moment, he would fall on her with the smell of dust and blood and danger surrounding him. She closed her eyes and remembered how he’d kissed her with a hunger deeper than she’d ever known.
    Cherish slammed her fist into the pillow beside her. “Forget him!” she whispered to the silent room. “Forget him and all the feelings.”
    Frustrated, Cherish climbed from her still cold bed. “I have no time for foolish dreams,” she said to the silence, trying to convince herself. “No time at all.” Lighting the lamp, she wished she could push away the chill as readily as she banned darkness into the corners of the room. She pulled a blanket from the bed, curled up beside the tiny fireplace, and rested her head on her knees. Firelight had always fascinated her, calming her troubled thoughts with its bright dance and warm breath. Her mind wandered to her family’s farm. She thought of her childhood, when love filled her home to overflowing. The vision of her mother, angry and stoic as she waved good-bye the day Cherish and Maggie had left, played across her mind. How many times in the past four years had she wished she’d heeded her mother’s advice and stayed home? Cherish tried to visualize one of the local boys kissing her the way the stranger had. But the vision wouldn’t come. She would always love her parents, and visit them when possible, but she didn’t think she could ever go home again.
    Time passed slowly as her mind wandered, barely listening to the sounds around her … the storm, the crackle of the fire, the creaking of a door long unused.
    Cherish stiffened. The sound came again: a door slowly opening, its hinges crying from age and neglect. Afraid to breathe, she turned her head from one entrance in her room to the other. The one leading to the hallway was locked, and the door opening into the sitting room was closed with the bolt still in its nest.
    Her ears strained. Listening for the sound to come again, Cherish debated whether she wanted it to be real or whether it might be less frightening to question her sanity. What had the strange housekeeper, Azile, said? The dead walked the house and the walls cried. But Azile’s eyes had the wild vacantness of someone who drifted from reality on the white smoke of opium.
    The creaking came once more, an eerie noise of creeping terror. Waiting like an animal ready to spring for safety, she heard soft footsteps approaching her door. Cherish moved slowly across the room and, pulling her gun from her bag, she melted into the shadows between the bedpost and the wardrobe. She was not some frightened child to be caught unaware. The years of working in army camps near