After they were gone, Luke heaved a sigh and pushed the door shut.
Maddie motioned him to the table and handed him a glass of cool water. "I apologize. I didn't know you would be home so early. Where's Matthew?" He could see the worry in her face. "Is…is he all right?"
"He walked off by himself. He'll be back." Just as he lowered himself on the chair, Matthew walked in the door.
Maddie greeted him with a warm smile. "There you are, young man. Would you like a cold drink?"
Matthew nodded. His gaze followed her every move as she ladled water into a clean glass and handed it to him. It was clear that Matthew was growing extremely fond of Maddie. As dangerous as it was to let the boy form such close attachments, Luke wasn't certain he could stop it even if he wanted to.
"Why did you come back early?" Maddie asked again. She was watching Matthew closely, and Luke could guess what she was thinking. He couldn't blame her.
"I was worried about Matthew," he said simply. A moment of understanding passed between them, and as if by mutual consent, the subject was dropped.
Right or wrong, he simply couldn't bring himself to deny his son what he himself had been denied.
Later that night, after the supper dishes had been washed and put away, Maddie sat at the table sewing a patch on a pair of Matthew's britches.
Luke had planned to work in the barn, but for some reason he didn't want to be alone.
He sat at the table across from her, oiling his hand tools. Although neither of them said much, he appreciated the companionship. It was still fairly early when she stood and gathered up her sewing supplies.
"I think I'll turn in," she said.
"I'll walk you outside."
She accepted his help with her shawl and walked out ahead of him. She paused in front of the soddy. The voice that floated to him out of the darkness was vibrant, yet soft. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this sky at night. It's incredible."
He gazed upward and watched a shooting star fall toward the southern horizon. "Don't you have stars in Washington?"
"Not like this. Not where I can see the stars touch the earth on all four sides of me."
He couldn't see her face in the dark, but he could feel her eyes upon him.
"It must be difficult raising a child by yourself."
His first impulse was to change the subject, but the compassion and understanding in her voice touched some inner need, and he momentarily dropped his guard. "It's very difficult."
"What was Matthew's mother like?"
"I…I don't want to talk about his mother."
His clipped voice would have discouraged most people, but he should have known that once Maddie had something on her mind, it would take more than a few cold words to discourage her.
"Has it ever occurred to you that your refusal to talk about her could be the reason for Matthew's tantrums?"
"Tantrums?" He couldn't believe his ears. "Is that what you think they are? Temper tantrums from a spoiled child?"
"I never said he was spoiled, Luke."
"His tantrums have nothing to do with his mother's death."
"How can you be so certain? Think about it. He can't talk about her. You won't. Where do you think his rage is coming from?"
"You know nothing about this."
"I know a great deal about children."
"More than medical doctors?" When she didn't reply, he gave a grim nod. "I thought not. According to the doctor I consulted, the tantrums are inherent."
She wasn't a doctor, but one couldn't live in the nation's capital for long without learning a thing or two about so-called experts. "Feelings are inherent. Anger. Frustration. How one handles those feeling is learned."
"I think in this instance you are out of your element."
"Is that why you refuse to let me teach Matthew? Because of his tantrums?"
"It requires much physical strength to hold him down."
"I've never had difficulty handling children. In fact, I'm of the opinion that it's parents, not children who are difficult to handle."
"Is that why you were asked to leave your earlier teaching post? Because of your low opinion of parents?"
"For your information, one of the reasons I was asked to leave was because I told a United States senator exactly what I thought of his policies regarding public education."
"One of the reasons? What was the other?"
"I told the father of one of my students that he was letting his own prejudices interfere with his son's education."
"It appears that meddling in other people's affairs comes second nature to you. You will, however, from this point on, refrain from interfering with my son's life" Hating the sound of his own rough voice, he tried to soften the harshness of his words. "Maddie, try to understand."
"I understand perfectly."
Brittle silence stretched between them Then, unexpectedly, the tension broke and he pulled her into his arms. He held her close for a moment, his lips pressed to her forehead, then released her. With a muttered oath, he spun around, and all that was left was the sound of the closing door.
Chapter 15
The brief but puzzling encounter left Maddie shaken and confused. She barely remembered stumbling into the dark tipi. Her fingers trembled as she undid her buttons, her heart beating wildly. When the dratted task was done, she flung herself upon the bedroll. What in the world was she to think? One moment he's accusing her of meddling and the next…
Not even the night air could cool her fevered brow. She pressed her hand against her chest. Her heart was beating so fast she could barely breathe. Somehow, she had to make sense out of all that was happening.
Matthew needed a friend.
Lord, so did his father, for that matter. Just thinking about the loneliness she sensed in Luke defused her anger, if not her confusion.
Lonely. Yes, that certainly described the look so often apparent in his eyes. That also seemed like a pretty apt description of the yearning she so often saw on his face. It would certainly explain the intensity by which he listened every time she spoke. It was as if every word she uttered gave much-needed nourishment to his soul.
The truth of the matter was that she had never seen two more lonely and wanting souls than Luke and his son. She longed to make things right for them, to fill their lives with laughter and music and all that was good.
She pounded her fists upon her pillow in a futile attempt to change the course of her thoughts. Had it been only loneliness that made him hold her close for one brief moment tonight?
Maybe, maybe not. But she did know one thing. She could do nothing for the father or his son. She couldn't be the one to rescue them, if indeed they could be rescued.
Whatever had happened to disillusion father and son about life was out of her realm. She was a teacher, not a miracle worker. Her job was to teach, not to heal broken hearts and wounded spirits.
But she wanted to. Lord, how she wanted to. If only she knew how.
She felt so inadequate. She pushed herself upright and stepped back outside. The lonely cry of a coyote shattered the silence. The sound made her shiver. She hugged herself and ran her hands up and down her arms.
Overhead, countless stars glittered in the velvet black sky. But the stars for once held no interest for her. It was the small lit window that caught her attention, beckoning to her like a lighthouse in a stormy sea. It was all she could to resist the temptation.
Feeling as restless as the wind that so often blew across the plains, she felt the need to run.
She bolted into the darkness and ran around the soddy like a colt in a meadow. The pins flew from her bun and she shook her hair free, then lifted her face to the starlit sky to feel the cool air against her fevered brow.
What she was running from, she couldn't say, but she ran until she gasped for breath and could run no more.
In the days that followed, the Cheyenne's eagerness to learn continued to amaze her. Some of the Indians already knew a few words of English, which they had learned from soldiers at Fort Hays, and they quickly picked up more words from Maddie. They also took great delight in teaching Maddie their own language and laughed uproariously at her efforts.
One brave in particular won her heart with his friendly antics. Through a series of hand signals, she was able to determine that his name had something to do with his being left-handed. The other Cheyenne were constantly pointing out how he favored his left hand, leading her to believe that such an occurrence was rare among Indians.
His Cheyenne name was difficult to pronounce and seemed to have no simple English derivative. For this reason, she called him Lefty, and he offered no objection.
"Me, Lefty. You Wildfire." He pointed to her hair and did a graceful dance on moccasined feet, imitating the way prairie fires swept across the grasslands.
Jokes made about her hair had, in the past, brought an immediate retort to the offender. But the inhabitants of Kansas did not seem to place as much value on conformity as those back home. For the first time in her life, she laughed at the jokes made at her expense. In this land of buffalo and Indians, and various social misfits who traveled here to find a home, she felt like she belonged.
This feeling of belonging increased as she learned more about her new home. She spent hours walking the grasslands, searching for plants and abandoned bird nests to display in her museum. The seemingly endless prairie had originally struck her as barren, but no longer. For she now knew that a myriad of treasures awaited anyone willing to take a closer look.
She found a discarded snake skin, a fish fossil from the bottom of a dry creek, and any number of bird nests.
She was astonished at the many varieties of wildflowers that grew among the prairie grass. She could identify many, but by no means all. She decided to send samples of the ones she was unfamiliar with to her father's friend at the Smithsonian for identification.
While gathering flowers on that first day in June, she was pleasantly surprised when Matthew joined her. Luke was nowhere in sight, and she wondered if he knew of Matthew's whereabouts. It wasn't like Luke to let Matthew wander away from the soddy unsupervised.
"I'm gathering specimens for the museum," she explained. "Would you like to help me?"
His eyes bright with interest, Matthew hunched by her side and watched her point to the wide diversity of flowers that bloomed among the grass. "This is blue indigo, and I believe this flower belongs to the phlox family. She studied the little orange flowers of another plant that was all but hidden next to a clump of buffalo grass. "I don't know what this one is called, but I think that one is a spiderwort."
She took in a deep breath, enjoying the fragrance of sun-warmed grass and wildflowers in the air. A bee hovered close, and Matthew drew back, afraid.
"It's all right, Matthew. The bee is trying to gather the pollen." She explained how bees, butterflies, and even birds helped to pollinate the flowers.
How she loved to take her students on nature walks. She found the elements of nature a useful tool in teaching many subjects, including arithmetic and even grammar. Her methods had come under numerous reviews by the school board, but it wasn't until Johnny Whychoff's mother fainted in the lab of the Smithsonian at the sight of blood that Maddie was forbidden to take her students outside the classroom. What a pity that was and, as she gave Matthew a lesson in botany, she vowed never again to let a school board dictate to her how to teach.
Matthew seemed to absorb everything she said, and when another bee hovered near, this time an enormous black bumblebee, he stood perfectly still and watched the insect flit from blossom to blossom.
Once the bee had moved on, he ran ahead of her and stopped to point eagerly at any flower that she had not previously collected. His eyes sparkled at every new discovery. On one such occasion, Maddie let out a squeal of delight. "Wild strawberries, Matthew."
She fell to her knees and quickly set to work plucking the ripe red fruit. The strawberries were sweet to the taste and juicy.
"Let's pick some for supper." She glanced around for something to put the berries in. "Let me have your hat, Matthew." Matthew pulled off his straw hat and handed it to her.