Maddie stomped into the room, and the last of the lingering shadows seemed to dissolve in her presence.
All during breakfast, Maddie used every possible opportunity to work a fact of historical interest into the conversation. She did it so glibly that at first Luke thought it was only by chance.
But he soon realized that Miss Maddie Percy did nothing by chance. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was giving his son a thorough education in the War-Between-The-States. She cited so many facts and figures, Luke's head began to ache. How in the world did she remember all those statistics?
"Did you have occasion to fight in the war, Mr. Tyler?"
"No," he said, his voice a sharp edge, "did you?" The question was meant in jest, but she treated it seriously.
"Unfortunately not," she replied, and much to his surprise, her voice was filled with regret. "It had something to do with my equipment."
Thinking he'd not heard right, he blinked, only to find her looking at him with undeniable challenge in her eyes. Equipment? Like the kind he'd seen reflected upon the tipi walls…?
Lord Almighty, was she flirting with him? It was hard to know. In any case, he had no intention of pursuing the topic she'd introduced, no matter how intriguing or tempting. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "It's time we got to work, Matthew."
It was all he could to keep from running out the door. Once outside, he took a deep steadying breath.
The sky was blue, with only a few white clouds skimming lightly overhead. The prairie stretched peacefully in every direction. There was no sign of fire. Equally important, there was no sign of the dust that would indicate visitors.
Since his trip to Hays a few days earlier, Claudia Hancock's threat remained very much on his mind. His greatest fear was that someone would come and take Matthew away from him. Would Claudia carry out her threat? He didn't know, but just in case, he intended to keep Matthew in sight at all times.
With a deep sigh, he slipped the bridle over his horse's head and led the animal toward his wagon.
Matthew and Miss Percy walked out of the soddy hand in hand, and they appeared to be enjoying a private joke. He envied the easy rapport that had developed so readily between the two. His own relationship with Matthew, though loving, was of necessity less demonstrative.
Damn, how he hated the man who was his father! He had never met the man, but he hated him nonetheless, and bile filled his mouth as he recalled the many reasons why.
Luke couldn't so much as hug his own son without questioning his own worth. He was afraid to love a woman like a man was surely meant to love one. Not that he had any interest in loving a woman, of course. None.
Seeing her shadow fall by his side, he asked, "What are your plans today, Miss Percy?"
"I'd feel much better if you would call me Maddie."
He'd never known a Maddie before, but it suited her in some odd way. "Very well, Maddie."
Silence stretched between them, and he sensed her waiting for him to ask her to return the favor. Well, she would have to ask him outright, and he doubted that even she would be that forward.
"Do you mind if I call you Luke?"
He stiffened, but he kept his back toward her as he checked the harness. "If you wish."
"It seems less formal, don't you think? Since we're living together."
He glanced back over his shoulder, hoping she had the good grace to blush. She didn't. Lord, were there no limits to what the woman would say or do?
He swung up onto the seat of the wagon and waited for Matthew to climb aboard.
"Luke..." His name tripped off her tongue smoothly, as if it had every right to be there. "If you like, you may leave Matthew with me for the day. I shall be more than happy to teach him his letters and finish our little history lesson." She smiled and patted Matthew on the leg as he climbed into his seat.
Matthew turned his face toward his dad, his eyes bright with eagerness. Luke felt like a heel having to deny the boy's unspoken request, but he had no choice.
"That won't be necessary, Miss…Maddie."
"But I have all this free time on my hands."
"Which I'm sure you'll put to good use." With that, he drove away.
Matthew looked so disappointed as he waved to her, she almost regretted having suggested the idea in the first place.
Almost, but not quite. As a teacher, she believed it her right to speak up in a child's behalf.
She hoisted herself up on an upturned barrel and wondered what she was going to do with all the time on her hands.
A cloud of dust in the distance drew her attention away from her thoughts. She jumped to the ground and shaded her eyes against the sun, then cast a quick glance in the direction Luke had gone. His wagon was no longer visible. It was up to her to handle the visitors.
She watched the approaching horses with increasing anxiety. Even though she couldn't really tell from this distance, she was convinced the Cheyenne had returned. It wasn't long before her suspicions were confirmed.
Whether they were the same Indians who had made an earlier appearance during her shooting lesson was hard to determine.
One of them, who appeared to be the leader, left the others behind and rode his pony toward her. His long black hair fell to his shoulders in two thick braids. He dismounted his pony and spoke to her in his native tongue.
Maddie was more curious than frightened. He didn't seem to be threatening. She made an attempt not to stare at the inadequate loincloth or the dark, naked thighs. The Indian made no such attempt to keep from staring at her trousers.
He pounded on his chest with his hand, and it occurred to her that he was trying to tell her his name. He spread his arms outward and looked to be imitating a bird in flight. Feeling a surge of excitement, Maddie thought of something. "Wait!" She held up the palm of her hand to indicate what she wanted him to do, then dashed inside her tipi.
Dropping to her knees in front of the truck, she rifled though her belongings until she found a portfolio of drawings of wildlife she used in her classroom.
In the time it took her to find what she was looking for and rushed back outside, the remainder of the Indians had joined their leader and were standing together in a small knot.
She laid her portfolio on the ground next to their moccasined feet and searched through the pictures. Upon finding the one she wanted, she held it up for all to see. It was a picture of a hawk. The leader snatched the picture out of her hands and stabbed it with his finger.
"Your name is Hawk?" It was more of a statement than a question. Then remembering his arms, she spread her own arms outward. "Flying Hawk."
The Indian repeated after her. "Flying Hawk."
She held up each picture in turn. The deer brought an immediate reaction from one of the other Indians, who nodded his head vigorously and pointed to himself.
"Your name must be--" she glanced at the picture. "Deer. Or is it Running Deer?"
Gradually, she was able to put a name to the remaining Indians through use of the pictures. The elephant caused much laughter and discussion among them. She could only assume that they had never seen such an animal.
Flying Hawk handed her the pictures and pointed to her. "My name is Maddie," she said. "And I have no picture to show you." She pointed to herself. "Maddie."
Flying Hawk stabbed the pictures and barked out something that sounded threatening. "No picture!" she barked back, refusing to let him intimidate her.
The Indians looked disbelieving, and the one she now called Running Deer grabbed a picture of an ostrich and pointed to its long, skinny legs, and the balloon-like bulk of it body. He then pointed to Maddie's trousers and her short, full skirt. Obviously he saw a comparison.
Maddie conceded with a good-natured grin. "Have it your way." She held up the ostrich for all to see and said the word with distinct emphasis.
"Ostrich!" they repeated in unison.
She'd been called many things in her life, but never an ostrich. The little group of Cheyenne were so childlike in their delight that the last of her fears left her, and instead of taking offense, she was soon laughing along with them.
For Luke, it had been a long, hard day in the fields. The buffalo and grama grass were less tall than grasses that grew further east. In this part of Kansas the grasses grew thick and the roots went deep into the sod, requiring much in the way of man and machinery to conquer.
Luke usually waited until the sun set before heading for home. Today, however, the sun was still fairly high in the sky when he called to Matthew and motioned him to the wagon.
Matthew looked surprised and glanced westward as if to check the time. He then tossed the handle of his hoe over his shoulder and started toward the wagon.
"You did a good job, son." Luke gave his son a gentle pat on the back.
Matthew rewarded him with a lopsided grin, threw the hoe into the back of the wagon, and began chasing a butterfly.
Like stood watching his son and fought back the urge to grab him and hold him close.
Be careful
, Luke's mother had cautioned him whenever he'd given in to any childish need to be close to her. Mustn't show your feelings.
Damn it! He wanted to show his feelings. Did she know how it had felt to be constantly rebuffed by her? His father was the criminal, not him.
As if he guessed Luke's tortured thoughts, Matthew abandoned the butterfly and tugged on Luke's hand. Luke knelt down and wrapped both arms around Matthew, resisting the urge to hug his small son with complete abandon.
Be careful
. Today, as always, his mother's words echoed from the distant past.
You must never forget who your father was and what he was capable of doing. You must never allow his evil ways to come out in you.
He cradled Matthew's face gently between his hands. "Why can't you speak, son? Why can't you tell me what's in your heart?"
It was a question he'd asked himself more times than he could remember.
According to the doctors Luke had consulted shortly after Catherine-Anne's death, it was quite possible for the vocal cords to stop functioning after a severe shock to the system.
Although the doctors couldn't tell him if his son would ever speak again, they did say that the longer he remained mute, the less his chances for a full recovery.
It had already been two years. Two long, interminably long, years. How he longed to hear his son's voice again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Matthew laugh aloud. At this point, he would settle for a grunt. Anything would be better than the unnatural silence.
His heart heavy, he released his son, hopped onto the wagon, and grabbed the reins. He was tired, he told himself. That's why he'd called it a day so early. It had nothing to do with Matthew, nothing at all to do with that nightmarish trip to Hays three days before. It had even less to do with the schoolteacher.
Still, he didn't feel tried. His body felt alert and more energetic than it had felt in months, maybe years.
Wonder what she's up to? Not that it mattered to him, of course. But there was so little diversion in his life these days. And she was indeed a diversion. A mighty interesting one, at that.
If he hadn't been straining his eyes to catch sight of her, he wouldn't have noticed anything amiss from such a long distance.
Thinking he must be seeing things, he stopped the wagon and stared across the flat prairie land to where his soddy stood.
His eyes wide with disbelief, he could do nothing but stare. Unless he was seeing things, the whole Cheyenne tribe was camped on his doorstep!
Chapter 13
He forced himself to calm down as he waved his arms to get her attention. "Miss Percy… Maddie…" He rose on tiptoe, his arms over his head. "May I have a word with you?"
She was standing amid a group of half-naked Indians. At the sound of his voice, she looked up. "Yes, Luke, what is it?"
He stared at her incredulously. "What is it?" Fifty or more tipis stood on his property, and she asked
what is it?
He couldn't even locate his own soddy for all the tipis and ponies. "If you will afford me a moment of your time, I shall be more than happy to enlighten you!"