Reckless Destiny

by Teresa Southwick

  “It’s not magic, it’s the voice. Takes time to develop just the right tone.”

  “I don’t plan to be here long enough to acquire the skill.”

  Cady smiled sympathetically. “Sorry I’m late. I was looking for Kane to see if it was safe to have school today. I never found him.”

  “He took a patrol out first thing this morning to see what those devil Indians are up to, if anything.”

  Cady stifled first a stab of fear and then the envy she felt that this woman knew more about her husband’s comings and goings than she did. “I see. Then I suppose I’d better check with the officer in charge to see if we should have school or not.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s all right,” Betsy said quickly. “If anything happens, there will be plenty of warning. Besides, the children are better off following their normal routine. It will take their minds off what’s going on.”

  Cady agreed but still felt she should get permission. Just before she could voice the thought, Bart Grimes toppled off the end of the bench, as the three children beside him shifted suddenly and shoved him. A chorus of giggles followed his undignified thump. Then the flush of embarrassment on his face gave way to anger and he jumped up and yanked on Martha’s pigtail.

  From then on, all Cady’s thoughts focused on restoring and keeping order. She never noticed when Betsy Wexler slipped away, but after she had separated Bart and Martha and calmed the shrieking girl down, the major’s wife was gone. Cady proceeded to keep the restless group busy.

  When she had everyone back in their seats and all eyes were upon her, she said, “You all remember we were talking about the events in history that led up to America’s War of Independence?” When the majority of heads bobbed up and down in assent she continued, “Today I want to tell you about the Boston Tea Party.”

  Emily Stanton stared at her. “They had tea before they had the war?”

  Cady shook her head and told the children about the incident.

  When she finished, R. J. asked, “What did the colonists do about those ships in the harbor?”

  On the bench to Cady’s left, Polly Chase pinched little Bobby Armstrong, who sat beside her. The youngster yelled “Ow!” and pushed her.

  Before Polly could retaliate, Cady moved behind them and placed a firm hand on each of their shoulders. “That’s quite enough.”

  Obviously the children were too keyed up just to sit and listen, and a tedious writing assignment was also out of the question. Cady had to think of something that would keep them occupied or she’d have Bart jumping off the table again. That gave her an idea. Maybe if she gave them a lesson that involved activity, she might be able to capture their attention.

  She looked at R. J. and glanced at the rest of the children. “You want to know what the colonists did next?” When they nodded, she said, “You’re going to show me.”

  “But how? We don’t know.” R. J. looked skeptical.

  “I’ll tell you, then we’re going to reenact the Boston Tea Party. Who wants to be a colonist and who wants to be a loyalist?”

  “What did the colonists do?” R. J. asked again.

  “They dressed up as Indians and dumped a whole shipload of tea into Boston Harbor.”

  R. J.’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be a colonist. I can use these,” he said, pulling a wad of firecrackers from his pocket.

  “Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” Cady asked, holding out her hand for the explosives.

  He shook his head as he gave them to her, and a wide grin split his features. “You can have these. Don’t matter much to me. I’ve got a whole pile of ‘em in my saddlebags.”

  “See that they stay in your saddlebags,” Cady said sternly. “Now, I think Martha and Bart and R. J. should play the colonists. And Emily and Polly and John can be the loyalists.”

  “What do I get to be?” Bobby Armstrong asked.

  Cady thought for a minute. “You can be King George the Third.”

  “Oh, boy!”

  Cady organized her troops and marshaled her forces in their respective places, all the while spouting snippets of history to them. She was completely absorbed in her task when her husband walked into the room.

  Kane studied the scene of complete chaos before him.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  Cady whirled around and touched a hand to her chest, clearly startled. “Kane! You’re back!”

  The children stopped to welcome him and he returned the greeting. “Go on with what you’re doing while I talk to the captain,” Cady said to her students.

  Then she turned and crossed the room to Kane. He’d bet his captain’s bars that she planned to throw her arms around him—Cady wasn’t the type to hold anything back—but he couldn’t deal with that. If she touched him, he’d be lost.

  He frowned and folded his arms over his chest. She stopped and hesitated before clasping her hands together in front of her.

  “I asked you what was going on here,” he said.

  “What are you doing back from patrol so soon?” she countered.

  “We caught up with the Apaches in Horseshoe Canyon. They had Jason and Sarah Carberry with them, so I brought them back here. Mac and the rest of the men are escorting the renegades back to the reservation.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Cady cried. “Are the children all right?”

  “Just scratched and bruised. But their parents were butchered right in front of them, so who knows what scars they have on the inside.”

  Cady sobered instantly, and the expression on her face was pure compassion. “The poor things. What will happen to them now?”

  “They’re being looked after. Sergeant Armstrong and his wife have offered to take them in until next of kin can be notified.”

  Cady looked thoughtful. “When they’re strong enough, I think they should come to school with the other children. It will help take their minds off their loss.”

  There was a loud thump behind them, followed by a wail. Bart Grimes was sitting on the floor at the end of the table as he rubbed his ankle.

  “I told you not to jump from there, Bart,” Cady said sternly as she started toward him.

  “Ain’t broke, ma’am,” he said, in a voice that carried across the room. “Just hurts a little.”

  She stopped and nodded. “I believe it’s time to write standards. Twenty-five times: ‘I will obey my teacher.’”

  “Yes’m,” he said.

  Kane admired her way with the children. With a combination of control and warmth, she had them practically eating out of her hand. She had tamed R. J., and that was saying something. She was a beautiful, capable woman and he couldn’t help loving her. But he felt himself being drawn so completely under her spell the power of his feelings scared him. He had to do something to stop it.

  “What’s going on here, Cady?”

  “I’m conducting school.”

  “Even though there was a very real threat of Indian attack?”

  “I tried to find you. When I couldn’t, I came here and the children had already arrived. Betsy said to hold school.”

  He nodded at the whooping and hollering behind her. “You could have dispersed them.”

  “We agreed that it was better for them to go about their normal routine.”

  “This is their normal routine?” he asked when a loud argument erupted among the children.

  She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “They couldn’t sit still, so we decided to act out the Boston Tea Party.”

  “You want to bring two fragile children into this chaos? You call that teaching?” Kane knew he was being a bastard, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  Cady’s chin snapped up and her green eyes blazed. “Since when does the army train officers to deal with children? How dare you come into my classroom and criticize my methods?”

  “I’m in charge of the post.”

  “Does that give you the right to stick your nose into something you know nothing about? Do I tell you how
to run your fort?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “It most certainly is.” Cady stopped and took a breath as she glared up at him. “If the Indian threat is over, there’s no reason on earth why I shouldn’t conduct lessons.”

  “You should never have started class in the first place.”

  Kane knew he was splitting hairs. He knew he was wrong and he knew he should apologize and beat a hasty retreat, but instinct was driving him and he’d learned to do whatever he had to for survival.

  He stood his ground. “For all you knew, the Indians could have been massing out there for a major assault, and here you’d have been with a room full of children and no way to protect them.”

  “You told me they’d never get past the perimeter.”

  “I didn’t want you to be frightened.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “So in addition to being an inadequate teacher, I’m also a coward? Please leave now, captain, before you upset my students more than they already are.”

  “You’re throwing me out?”

  “I am.”

  He stared at her for a few moments, then realized the children had stopped their activity to watch the two adults. Kane didn’t take kindly to being ordered out, but he had enough sense left to hold his tongue. “We’ll discuss this later, when we’re alone.”

  “We’ve said everything there is to say.”

  She turned away, her spine ramrod stiff, her shoulders back, as tall and straight as any good soldier he’d ever seen. She was walking away, but he felt as if he’d been dismissed. And her final words made him uneasy. They would talk later whether she wanted to or not. That was an order.

  Cady walked into the stable after school that day, carrying a saddlebag, and proceeded to saddle Prince. In an effort to make amends, R. J. had told her to ride the horse any time she wanted. Since the boy’s apology on her wedding day, everything had been fine between them.

  If only she could say the same for her husband. In her mind, the list of “if onlys” started ticking like the seconds on a clock.

  If only R. J. hadn’t helped her out of the guardhouse, if only the rain had waited, if only the river had been passable, if only Jack had arrived sooner. If only Kane loved her.

  She shook her head. She would go mad if she kept this up. The fact was, all of it had happened, and she was married to a man who had little or no respect for her: as a teacher, as a wife, as a woman.

  She heard footsteps rustle in the hay behind her and whirled around. She felt tremendous relief that it was R. J. walking toward her from the far end of the stable.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” he said, his grin friendly.

  “Hello, R. J. What are you doing here?”

  “I was goin’ ridin’. How ‘bout you?”

  “Me too.”

  He eyed the saddlebag she had just settled behind the saddle near the horse’s rump. “You usually take all that with you for an afternoon ride?”

  She wanted to evade questions, but what was the point? “I’m going to my brother Jack’s cabin.”

  The boy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes’m, I know where it is. Ain’t far, but it’s out of sight of the fort.”

  “I know, but Captain Carrington said the Apaches were no longer a threat”—she turned away from him and put her left hand on the saddlehorn and her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself onto the horse’s back—”and I need some time alone.”

  R. J. moved beside the horse and patted its nose. “Hi, Prince. How ya doin’?” Then he looked up at her, a suspicious look in his bright blue eyes. “Does Kane know you’re goin’?”

  “No.” She had a little guilty feeling but pushed it away with a reminder of how ill-mannered and judgmental he’d been in her classroom earlier. She could stand almost anything, but when he criticized her teaching and was unreasonable to boot, he’d gone too far.

  “You gonna tell him you’re leavin’?”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, R. J. I’ll be back tomorrow, in time for school.” She laughed when he made a face, and at the sudden sound the horse shifted beneath her. At least she could count on one thing staying the same: R. J. disliked schoolwork as much as he had the day she’d arrived at the fort.

  “Kane might be worried if he doesn’t know where you are,” the boy persisted.

  “I doubt it.” Cady told herself he’d probably find some excuse not to share her quarters that night, so how would he even know she’d gone? “I’m sure he won’t miss me.”

  “Whatever you say. I reckon you know what you’re doin’.”

  “I do.” She knew she wanted to be alone, and Kane had developed a bad habit of coming after her. This time she had to make sure that didn’t happen. “R. J., I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this under your hat.”

  “Ain’t wearin’ one, ma’am.”

  “It’s just an expression. If you see Kane, don’t say anything to him about where I’ve gone.”

  “You want me to tell him a falsehood?” he asked, exaggerating his shock at her suggestion.

  “Of course not. Just—don’t bring it up if you happen to see him.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Thank you, R. J. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And R. J.?”

  “Yes’m?”

  “If you’re going to go out riding, put on a hat.”

  When he grinned and nodded, she exerted gentle pressure on Prince’s flanks and the horse moved forward.

  Cady rode over the rise and reined in her horse when she saw Jack’s cabin. The sight of the small structure reminded her of her brother. A rush of loneliness tightened her chest and slipped upward into her throat. She missed Jack even more than the day she’d told him good-bye. If only he were there to talk to. But it was a foolish fantasy, almost as foolish as thinking that she might have a future with the man she loved.

  When Prince snorted and pranced restlessly, she patted his neck. “Easy, boy.”

  Normally, the sound of her voice and a gentle touch were all she needed to calm the animal down. Today, he was uneasy. He tossed his head and whinnied.

  “What is it, Prince?” She looked around, but in every direction the desert was quiet and peaceful. “I don’t see anything. What’s got you so on edge?”

  He’d probably eaten something that didn’t agree with him.

  “Let’s go, boy,” she said, urging him forward. “I’ve got some oats for you, and I’ll give you some water. That will make you feel better.”

  When Cady stopped in front of the small cabin, Prince pawed the ground. She tied his reins securely to the rail out front. She tried the front door and found it unlocked, the same as the first time she’d come here.

  Pushing the door wide, Cady stepped into the single room. Everything was just as she remembered: the wooden table and one chair stood in the center of the room, a few pots and pans were stacked on the shelf beside the window, and a trunk rested at the foot of the cot against the wall.

  There was wood piled beside the fireplace, and since she’d brought a few provisions from the fort, she figured once she hauled in water from the well she’d have everything she needed.

  Everything except Kane.

  She pushed the thought away. She left the cabin and unsaddled Prince, turning him loose in the corral that Jack had fashioned from the trunks of cottonwood trees. After making sure there was water and feed for the animal, she filled a bucket and carried it inside.

  The sun would set soon, and when it did a chill would descend over the desert. The last time she’d been here, she recalled how hot it had been. Now she needed to build a fire.

  She smiled sadly as she remembered how excited she’d been to see Jack, after several years’ separation, and her own eager anticipation to start a new life. How could she have been so wrong about everything?

  She lit a match, and when she had a popping, crackling blaze going, she put two logs on. They caught, and she sighed with satisfaction. At least that skill was something Kane couldn’t
take away from her.

  “This is a fine kettle of fish,” she scolded herself. “You came all this way to be by yourself, to get away from that pigheaded man, and all you’ve done is think about him.”

  From outside, she heard Prince whinny and then the sound of his hooves as he galloped around the corral. Cady looked out the window and wondered why, after their ride out here, he wasn’t standing contentedly like he did in the stable at the fort.

  The door suddenly flew open. Heart pounding, Cady turned to see an Indian there. He was tall, not as tall as Kane but an arrogant, imposing figure nonetheless. His skin was the color of copper and as smooth as leather. He wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt belted at the waist by braided leather thongs, trousers, and knee-high moccasins. His blue-black hair fell straight to his shoulders, and he had a bandanna tied around his forehead to hold back its length.

  When she saw the pistol in his left hand pointing at her, Cady knew bone-chilling fear. Did Indians aim a gun at anyone they didn’t plan to shoot? She realized she hadn’t brought a weapon, not even the gun Kane had given her; she’d left it in her quarters. She was alone, with nothing to defend her but her wits.

  The man was silent. Finally, Cady couldn’t stand it.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. She wondered if he spoke English.

  Her knees shook and her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. Still she decided to ask him something else.

  “Wh—” Her throat was dry and she swallowed, then tried again. “What do you want?”

  He didn’t respond except to let his gaze wander over the interior of the cabin. Was he looking to see what he could steal? Kane had told her the Apaches usually raided for guns and ammunition. If that was so, he’d be sorely disappointed here. Would he be angry enough to kill her? If he tried, could she do anything to stop him?

  Kane had told her just that morning that the Indians had surrendered to the reservation. Was this man part of that band? Had he escaped or refused to give himself up? Was there a patrol out looking for him?

  “Since you won’t tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine. I’m Cady Tanner—I mean Carrington. I keep forgetting. I haven’t been married long, you see. My husband is Captain Carrington of Fort McDowell.”