His niece was giggling uncontrollably as Thad settled her on the ground and strolled away.
Taking Caroline's hand, Lisbeth led her up the steps and called,
"Miss Adams is here!"
Jessie and Morning Light hurried from the kitchen to greet their guest.
After an exchange of pleasantries they settled into a comfortable routine, with Caroline and the girls setting the table while Jessie and her sister-in-law finished up in the kitchen.
Afterward, while they waited for the men to return from the barn.
Morning Light gave Caroline a tour of the fascinating house she shared with the doctor and their children.
The cool interior reflected two cultures, with sturdy tables and chairs and colorful handwoven rugs. The walls were hung with tapestries painstakingly depicting the history of the Comanche people.
"For Runs With The Wind, Danny and Kate," Morning Light said simply.
"So they will know their heritage."
"That's beautiful. Maybe one day they can use it in class to teach the children something of the history of your people."
Pleased with the idea, Morning Light said,
"Runs With The Wind told me about the words he exchanged with Emma Waverly. I wish to thank you for what you said on his behalf."
Caroline seemed embarrassed by her words.
"I didn't do anything special."
"But you did. Miss Adams," came a voice from behind her.
Caroline turned to find Clan standing in the doorway. Behind him were Cole and Thad and the boys, Jack, Frank and Danny.
Walking closer, Clan gave her a probing look.
"It was very brave of you to suggest that, despite the differences in cultures, all people can succeed by working together. It's not something most people want to hear."
Caroline felt her cheeks grow hot, knowing that all eyes were on her.
Clan continued,
"A few parents may be offended by your words. The wounds between the whites and the Comanche are still very raw."
"I suppose so. But Reverend Symes said it best today during his sermon.
The truth shall set you free. They needed to hear the truth. There was a time," Caroline said softly, " when this land was divided by the crudest of wars, and even those wounds are healing." " She's right." Thad ruffled his nephew's hair and studied the light that came into Caroline's eyes whenever she started sounding like a teacher.
"And the truth will set us all free. But right now, could we eat?"
They broke into gales of laughter as they trooped into the large dining room and sat down to a wonderful meal of venison and pork, with early garden potatoes and vegetables and dark rich gravy spooned over hot biscuits. For dessert they were treated to peach preserve cobbler sweetened with thick cream.
"Are you excited about next week, Miss Adams?" Lisbeth asked.
Caroline looked puzzled.
"The town social," the little girl explained.
"Didn't anyone tell you?"
"It's a party," Jessie broke in, seeing Caroline's confusion.
"The town holds one every year to celebrate summer. For two days the ranch chores are forgotten. Folks from miles around come to town and spend the night in their wagons or even under the stars. There will be fiddlers and dancing and..."
"Games and contests for the children..." Lisbeth added. "And swimming in the river," Jack said excitedly. Jessie smiled at her husband.
"Saturday night there's a potluck supper and dancing. And Sunday all the women pack baskets of food and the men bid on them."
"Bid?" Caroline saw the intimate glances exchanged by Jessie and Cole.
Though they'd been married for years, it was obviously some sort of courtship ritual they still enjoyed.
"A man has to pay to share a lady's basket," Clan explained.
"The money goes to the church."
"Doesn't that sound exciting?" Lisbeth asked. "Yes.
Yes it does." Caroline found herself getting caught up in the enthusiasm.
She'd never been to a social. She wouldn't even know how to act. But it did sound like fun.
"Are you going. Uncle Thad?" Lisbeth asked. Thad looked distinctly disinterested.
"You know I never bother with such things. Little Bit."
"But it would be more fun if you came." He gave a negligent stretch of his shoulders.
"I'm busy these days with a very expensive mare who's going to give me the most beautiful foal ever born in Texas. In fact," he said, scraping back his chair,
"I'd better be getting back. I don't like leaving her alone for too long."
Caroline helped the women with the dishes, then followed Thad to the wagon.
On the ride back to her cabin she lifted her head to watch the clouds scudding across a full moon. Somehow, the thought of the town social didn't seem nearly as exciting as it had when she had first heard it mentioned.
"You're awfully quiet tonight." Thad's deep voice roused her from her thoughts.
"Worried about your chicks?"
She shook her head.
"They're safe in the shed you built."
"Something on your mind?"
"Just pleasantly tired."
"Will you be going to the town social?" His voice sounded deeper as the darkness closed in around them.
"I suppose I should. It would be expected of the new teacher."
' "Ever been to one before?"
"No." She turned her head slightly.
"You?"
"No. I don't have time for such nonsense." He cleared his throat.
"Still, it might be fun seeing my nieces and nephews running races and swimming."
The wagon drew to a halt in front of her cabin. As she made a move to climb down, Thad's hand on her sleeve stopped her.
"Hell, why not admit the truth and be set free?" he said with a chuckle.
"Maybe I'd find out I like sharing a basket lunch with a pretty woman."
Her heart seemed to fly to her throat and lodge there.
He climbed from the wagon and raised his hands to assist her. But as she started to step down he suddenly caught her in his arms.
"Dammit, woman," he muttered thickly against her cheek, "you don't weigh as much as a sack of flour."
For long moments she was held, her feet not touching the ground. She could feel the tension humming through him. Then, almost roughly, he set her on her feet and climbed back into the wagon. With a crack of the whip he was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
"I?
Ivemember, I'd like you older children to assist the younger ones, please." In single file Caroline led the children from the schoolroom to the big farm wagon that Thad Con way had agreed to loan her for the day. What she hadn't known was that he would insist upon driving it. She'd expected to see Manuel It was always a shock when she saw Thad. His shoulders were so wide they stretched the rough fabric of his shirt tautly. The callused hands holding the reins were so big and work-roughened. His arms, covered by fine golden hair, were bronzed by the sun. And his eyes, hard, ice blue chips, always seemed to see more than he admitted.
'"Morning, ma'am." He touched the tip of his wide- brimmed hat.
"Good morning. I didn't want to take you away from your chores. I know how busy you are with that mare."
"No trouble."
He watched as she herded her young charges into the back of the wagon.
"Hey, Uncle Thad," young Jack called in surprise.
"Are you going with us?"
"Looks like."
Lisbeth crawled up to the front seat and planted a kiss on her uncle's cheek before sitting down beside him.
"How come you're here?" she asked.
"Your teacher needed a wagon, and mine was available."
"I'm glad." The little girl wrapped her arms around his arm and looked up at him adoringly.
When everyone was settled in the hay, Caroline sat cross-legged in their midst. Thad flicked the reins and they started off acr
oss the hills. While they rolled along, Caro- line asked the children to name every plant, tree, bird and animal they saw.
The varieties seemed infinite. The hills were carpeted with bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes, while the more rocky crags were cloaked in dark green juniper. Deer leaped across a meandering stream, and flocks of doves took flight with a flutter of wings as the wagon approached. Prairie dogs stood on hind legs to watch as they came near, then disappeared into their tunnels to escape the danger.
Over his shoulder Thad glanced at the young woman who had the ability to transmit her own curiosity about everything around her to the children.
She managed to direct their attention to all the ordinary things about their lives that they had begun to take for granted. Through her eyes, such mundane things became extraordinary.
"Mountain lion." Thad pulled the wagon to a halt so the children could see the sleek creature moving along a jagged rocky shelf high above them.
Caroline lifted her head, shading the sun from her eyes. On her face was an expression of pure pleasure.
' "What good is a mountain lion?" Ethan Waverly asked. "Pa used to say all it does is kill cattle."
"But it also kills other predators, like wolves and coyotes Caroline pointed out.
"And its coat can keep us from freezing in the winter. I'd say the mountain lion, no matter how dangerous, can be our friend."
"Maybe some things should exist just because they're beautiful." Thad wasn't looking at the cat. His gaze was arrested by the young woman surrounded by her students.
Seeing the direction of her uncle's gaze, Lisbeth caught the flush on her teacher's cheeks and was puzzled by it.
A short time later the wagon pulled up in front of the neat little house owned by Cora and Ab Meadows. The children, eager for their new adventure, tumbled out of the wagon.
Cora Meadows, looking slightly flustered, met them at the door to her house.
"Is Ben ready?" Caroline asked.
"He's been ready since sunup." Cora glanced at the crowd of children gathering around the porch and became even more flustered.
"I don't think he slept a wink last night."
Neither had Caroline, but she wouldn't admit it.
While the children watched, Ab Meadows carried his young son out the door and set him on a blanket spread beneath a giant oak. Cora brought several plump pillows and placed them under the boy so that he was almost in a sitting position.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ab whispered. "There's still time to send them away."
"No, Pa. I'm fine. Really."
For a minute the older man continued to kneel, his hand on his son's shoulder as if to protect him from this invasion of curious outsiders.
Then, getting to his feet, he dusted the knees of his worn pants and walked a short distance away, head down, shoulders sagging. Nervously Cora followed her husband.
At first the children seemed wary of their friend who could no longer walk.
They held back, afraid to look at him, afraid to come too close.
"Hello, Ben," Caroline called in her most cheerful tone. "Did you do the sums I gave you?"
"Yes, ma'am." Ben proudly held out his slate.
While she looked it over, Caroline said casually,
"You may all take your seats in a semicircle around Ben."
From his position in the wagon Thad watched in puzzled silence. No one had told him what this was about. But now, seeing the scene unfolding before him, he realized what Caroline was up to.
The fear experienced by Ben's parents was palpable. And the discomfort of the children was obvious. They fidgeted, and many of the younger ones clung tightly to the hands of older brothers or sisters. They didn't know what they were afraid of; they knew only that this boy was somehow different from the boy they had once known.
Seeing his uncle watching him, young Jack shuffled over and stiffly extended his hand to the boy who had once been his riding and fishing partner.
"Hey, Ben. How're you doing?"
"Okay, I guess." Ben caught Jack's outstretched hand, pumping it up and down in his nervousness.
Jack knelt in the grass next to Ben. Shrugging his shoulders for emphasis, he said,
"I didn't know if ... I mean, I thought you might not want to see me, since we were friends and all."
"We're still friends." Ben squinted up.
"Aren't we?"
"Yeah." Jack smiled and Ben's lips curved upward.
Slowly, uneasily, the other children followed Jack's lead, calling greetings as they sat or knelt on either side of Ben.
Caroline watched as the children eyed the boy, some staring boldly, others looking away whenever he caught their curious glances. When she'd learned that most of them had never come to see him since his fall, she'd realized that they all needed to learn how to deal with his infirmity. It wasn't cruelty, she had assured Cora, that kept them away from their old friend; it was ignorance.
' "They have to be taught that Ben is the same as he was before," she'd told Cora.
"That even though he can't walk, he still has a fine mind, and a need for friends."
But even though Ben had been excited by the prospect of seeing his old classmates, Cora hadn't been convinced. Nor had her husband, Ab.
Caroline's heart went out to them. They had been as wounded by Ben's accident as the boy had. Now they feared seeing him hurt again. She prayed she hadn't made a terrible mistake.
Caroline handed Ben his slate.
"They're all correct. You've earned another perfect mark in my book."
Cora and Ab, standing to one side, saw the look of pride in their son's eyes.
Wearing identical frowns of concern, they turned away. Cora made her way back to the house, while her husband came to stand beside Thad's wagon.
"Didn't know you were coming," Ab said almost apologetically.
"I didn't know it myself." Thad stepped down.
"Did I hear you have a new foal?"
Ab nodded absently. It was plain that his mind was still on his son and the children who were eyeing him with distrust.
"Why don't we have a look at it?" Thad offered.
Ab swallowed and pulled his gaze away.
"Sure thing. Come on." He'd never taken the time to know the gunman called The Texan. But since he was here with a wagonload of children, Ab guessed he'd show Thad Con way some courtesy. Besides, rumor had it that he had the finest herd of mustangs in Texas.
The morning seemed to drag by as the children read or did their sums in small groups. Those assigned to Ben's group were urged to gather around him while Caroline explained simple division. She noticed that the children were being careful not to get too close to Ben or to touch him. And she realized that they weren't so much afraid of him as they were afraid of hurting him.
They thought he was fragile, she realized. They were treating him like a sick child and not like their old friend and classmate.
The sun was directly overhead now, and the children took refuge beneath the low-hanging branches of the oak, drawing into an ever tightening circle around Ben.
When Caroline announced that it was time for lunch, the children opened their baskets and saddlebags and spread the food on the grass, talking, laughing, sharing.
At Caroline's urging, Cora had prepared a basket for Ben, even though she had wanted to have Ab bring him inside for lunch.
"He'll be tired after the long morning outside," Cora had argued.
"Ben isn't used to the fresh air anymore."
"But it will be a good tired," Caroline said simply. "You said he often wakes in the night with bad dreams. Maybe after a day outside he'll sleep better."
In the end she had prevailed and Cora had packed the basket with Ben's favorite foods.
Seeing the horses grazing on a nearby hill, Emma Way-
eriy asked without thinking,
"Which one were you riding when you took your fall, Ben?"
In the shocked silence that followe
d, Ben pointed.
"That one. The big black with the four white stockings."
Realizing that this was the perfect opening, Caroline guided the children into an easy discussion about accidents, and this led Emma to say,
"Why don't you tell us about your accident, Ben?"
"I was on old Blackie." He polished off the last of his apple and tossed the core aside. A flock of birds descended, adding their chorus to the background.
"I was coming home from the creek with a couple of fish for supper. I remember thinking that Pa would be happy, 'cause Ma had killed our old rooster the night before and Pa said he was too tough to eat.
There was a storm coming up, and I was in a hurry to make it home before it hit." His voice lowered, half-dreamy, as he slipped into the memory.
"We were coming up the ridge just beyond that one." He pointed and the children turned to stare at the high, rocky ridge looming in the distance.
"There was a big crack of thunder and I dug my heels into old Blackie's sides and let out a holler. And then the rain came pelting down, and when we got to the gap in the stone, I just gave him his head, expecting him to take the jump like he always did. But I guess with the rain and all..."
His voice trailed off.
Caroline glanced around. The children had grown strangely silent.
"I don't remember hitting the ground," Ben said more softly.
"I just remember old Blackie stumbling, and me sailing through the air.
When I woke up, he was gone, and I figured he'd run off. It was pouring rain and I was soaking wet. I remember looking around for my fish, and when I saw them, I started to get up. But I couldn't. And I thought, well, I guess I'll crawl over. But I couldn't." His tone sounded incredulous, as though he still couldn't believe what had happened. He shrugged.
"I just couldn't move."
"How did you get home?" Ethan Waverly asked.
"I just laid there, shivering, for hours. It was dark, and I figured my folks would be worried sick about me."
Caroline could see that the children were caught up in the story, imagining what they would do in such a circumstance.
"Did you cry?" Lisbeth asked.
Ben shrugged, unwilling to talk about crying in front of his friends.
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