Texas Hero

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  The other children giggled their agreement.

  "Hush now," Jessie said sharply. Nodding toward the items in their hands, she explained,

  "There's a bit of stew and a loaf of bread. And a jug of milk." She grinned.

  "I figured you wouldn't have a cow yet."

  "I brought eggs and several plucked chickens," Morning Light added in her formal tone.

  "I knew you would not yet have a flock of chickens."

  "I'm obliged." Caroline led the way to the cabin and held the door as the others entered ahead of her.

  "That's very kind of you."

  "Not at all." Jessie smiled and waved at three women who were climbing down from a third wagon.

  "I'm sorry we weren't here to greet you last night. Our ranch is too far from town to hear much news. But when my husband told me that you'd arrived, I hurried over to help you clean the schoolroom. I know it hasn't been used in a couple of years." Jessie helped the children set the dishes on the table, then glanced around the clean cabin.

  "I see we're too late."

  "I'm grateful for your thoughtfulness. It's true I did a bit of cleaning last night and again this morning," Caroline admitted, "but I didn't have the energy to clean the schoolroom, as well."

  Jessie groaned.

  "I'm amazed you could do anything after a journey all the way from Boston."

  At the mention of Boston, Caroline's smile faded.

  Jessie missed the look that crossed Caroline's face, but it wasn't lost on Morning Light, who was too polite to acknowledge what she had seen.

  "You must have been exhausted," Jessie said.

  "Especially since, from what Cole told me, your trip was far from uneventful."

  "It was frightening," Caroline admitted, "facing seven gunmen and a runaway stage. I thought the work would help me forget my fears."

  Jessie opened the door for the three women approaching, their arms laden with more gifts.

  "Miss Adams, this is Cora Meadows, Sara Waverly and Bel va Spears."

  The three women could not have looked more different. Cora, who was as plump as she was tall, wore her brown hair in braids that she twisted around the top of her head like a crown. The style gave her plump face an even rounder appearance. Sara Waverly would have been pretty, with a trim figure and small, even features set in a heart- shaped face framed by brown curls, but her face wore the pinched, tight expression of someone who expected the worst from life. Bel va Spears, whose heavy black gown couldn't conceal a tall, angular body and the thinnest arms Caroline had ever seen, had lively blue eyes in a suntanned face sprinkled liberally with freckles that had turned to age spots.

  Caroline greeted them warmly and accepted their gifts of fruit cobbler and preserves. Cora had brought a bolt of sheer white fabric, which she laid carefully on the bed.

  ' "I remembered that there were no curtains on these windows." With a grin she added,

  "Our last teacher was Mr. Can by, who insisted on keeping the windows open summer and winter so the children could fill their lungs with fresh air. He detested curtains or any other frills in his schoolhouse."

  Bel va Spears nodded.

  "He was very stern, and very frugal."

  At the mention of the town's former teacher, Sara Way

  eriy suddenly brightened.

  "I thought he was just what the children of Hope needed. He kept a willow switch beside him on his desk and used it frequently on children whose minds wandered from their lessons."

  "He called it his friend," young Jack said matter-of factly.

  "And said we'd all get to know his friend well." He ran a hand over the seat of his pants.

  "Mr. Can by was right."

  "I certainly hope," Sara said sternly, "that you will continue Mr. Can by's policy of strict discipline."

  Caroline tried to hide her feelings of revulsion as she turned away.

  But she made a vow to herself that there would be no switches in her classroom.

  "So," Cora Meadows went on in a happier tone,

  "I thought I'd stitch some curtains while I was here."

  "And I've made a rag rug for the floor." Bel va unrolled a richly colored rug and set it in front of the fireplace.

  "Oh, how beautiful. I never expected such generosity."

  Sara's tone grew frosty.

  "I suppose, after a life in Boston, you are accustomed to such luxuries.

  Miss Adams. But I do hope you won't allow such frivolous things in the schoolroom. "

  Caroline glanced at the table groaning with food and thought that she was indeed enjoying luxuries beyond her imagination. Choosing her words carefully, she said,

  "You must all stay for lunch."

  With a laugh, Jessie admitted,

  "We'd already planned to invite ourselves."

  The women and children set about scrubbing down the walls, the windows, even the chairs in the schoolroom. And while they worked they laughed and chatted amiably.

  Caroline heard about the dozen or so children who would be attending the school. And about Cora's young son, who had been paralyzed after having been thrown from a horse.

  "Ben still loves horses," she said with a trace of weariness.

  "He lies in his bed all day and watches the horses running across the meadow.

  It breaks my heart that he'll never ride again." She turned away to hide her quivering lip. As she gave the walls a vigorous scrubbing, the smile was soon back on her lips.

  A while later Caroline heard about the loss of Bel va's husband a year ago, when a gunman had taken his horse, his gun and his boots and left him lying in his own blood in a field just beyond town.

  "Has anyone ever caught the gunman?"

  Bel va shook her head.

  "Ezra was known as a man of peace. The gunman had to know that he wouldn't fight back. There was no reason to kill him." She wiped away the tears that sprang to her eyes, surprised that, even now, the mere thought of the good man she'd lost could make her weep.

  "But if I ever get his killer in the sight of my gun, I'll make him pay for what he did."

  "What a wicked thing to say," Sara Waverly snapped. "You must learn to accept what life hands you, Bel va, just as I've learned to accept the loss of my husband. It does no good to speak of revenge."

  ' "How did your husband die, Sara?" Caroline asked.

  ' "His heart just gave out one day while he was plowing the fields,"

  she responded.

  "He probably died from lack of affection," Jessie whispered as she scrubbed a wall with more vigor than necessary.

  Caroline gently changed the subject and soon heard about the babies born and the youngsters who were already beginning courtship. And twice Cora bluntly mentioned the names of the town's most eligible bachelors.

  "An educated woman is considered quite a prize out here." Sara allowed her gaze to roam the young teacher, noting the drab, shapeless gown and plain, round spectacles.

  "Even if she isn't the prettiest woman in the territory."

  Across the room Jessie was surprised to see the young schoolteacher cover up a smile. It occurred to her that most young women would be extremely unhappy upon hearing such a statement. But Caroline Adams seemed genuinely pleased.

  "There's the banker's son, Emory Blake, who cuts a fine figure."

  "Too cold," Jessie sniffed.

  "Besides, he's gone to Fort Worth."

  "What about the new preacher, Reverend Symes?" Bel va asked.

  "He strikes me as a fine, upright young man."

  "He won't last long," Sara said curtly.

  "And why is that?" Jessie swatted six-year-old Frank's hand as he tried to help himself to a taste of fruit cobbler.

  "He preaches a false religion," Sara said smugly. "Why, last week he actually suggested that there was nothing that couldn't be forgiven.

  Nothing." She gave a snort of derision.

  "Can you imagine such nonsense?"

  "We were talking about eligible young men." B
el va could hardly contain her impatience with Sara.

  "What about Uncle Thad?" eight-year-old Lisbeth asked with the wisdom of her gender.

  "If I was all grownup, that's who I'd set my cap for."

  "Your Uncle Thad," Sara said sternly, "would make a terrible husband."

  For a change, everyone seemed to agree with her. The other women, including his own sister, nodded in agreement.

  "He'd be off every night at the saloon or getting himself shot up,"

  Cora said with a shake of her dark bonnet.

  "Pity the poor woman married to him." Bel va stopped her scrubbing.

  "At least I had ten good years with Ezra. Why, Thad Con way's wife would never know whether or not he'd be coming back for supper. She'd be lucky to have a year with a man like that before he'd wind up dead from some silly saloon brawl."

  "I worry about Thad," Jessie admitted.

  "I guess some of it was my fault.

  But I did my best for him, without a ma or pa to guide me. Thad grew up wild, and he's still wild. And I don't think anything or anyone will ever tame him." " I don't care," Lisbeth said fiercely.

  "Uncle Thad's still the best-looking man in town." She glanced at the new schoolteacher for support.

  "Isn't that right, Miss Adams? You said you met him."

  "Well, I have but..." Caroline bit her lip.

  "I'm afraid I didn't really pay much attention. There were gunmen and..."

  She shrugged.

  "I think it's time to eat."

  She hoped none of them noticed how uncomfortable she'd become at the discussion of eligible men. It wouldn't matter to her how wealthy or polite or handsome they were. She had no intention of marrying. Not now.

  Not ever.

  They enjoyed a picnic lunch outside in the late afternoon sun. Through the open doors, the schoolroom sparkled.

  Within the hour the women and children climbed into their wagons in preparation for the return to their homes.

  ' "Will we see you at Sunday services tomorrow?" Bel va asked.

  "Yes. Of course." Caroline thought how pleasant it would be to attend church in town and have a chance to meet all the people.

  "I don't know what I would have done without your help," she called.

  "It was the least we could do." Jessie waved from her wagon and her children waved and shouted to their cousins.

  Morning Light offered her hand.

  "I was eager to meet the woman who would be teaching my children."

  Caroline glanced at the well-mannered boy and girl who followed their mother to their carriage.

  "You have beautiful children. Morning Light."

  "Thank you." The young woman's eyes softened.

  "Like all the People, they have been reared to respect knowledge. They are eager to learn all you can teach them, for they know that they have a special responsibility."

  "And what is that?" Caroline asked.

  "You will hear soon enough from the others in the town." She glanced meaningfully at Sara Waverly's retreating back.

  "I am the sister of a Comanche chief, Two Moons. And my husband is the one who carries healing to all who need it. Our children are the bridge between his culture and mine,"

  Caroline was touched by the young woman's words. "Do they find it difficult?"

  "At times." Morning Light's tone became grave. "There are some people who fear anyone who is different. And fear can make people react in strange and often cruel ways."

  As the wagons and carriage pulled away in a cloud of dust, the young Comanche woman's words remained with Caroline. She knew, firsthand, the cruelty of people who stood in judgment of others. She felt a twinge of fear, then quickly shrugged, it off. She refused to dwell on such thoughts on a beautiful day like this. Instead, she would read another chapter of Dr. Harvey Hattinger's Rules for Headmistresses.

  That always buoyed her spirits.

  With Manuel by his side, Thad checked the herd of mustangs on the north ridge.

  "Damned fences," he muttered, glaring at the miles of wire that crisscrossed the land.

  "Why do you hate it so?" Manuel asked.

  ' "When I was a boy, all this land was free and wild. Look at it now.

  Towns everywhere. And people, all complaining about the herds of cattle and mustangs destroying their land. Their land," he spat.

  "As if all these Easterners have the right to come and destroy a way of life forever." He glanced at the man beside him and swore savagely.

  "I hate fences."

  Manuel grinned. It was the same thing he heard every time he rode with Thad Con way. At least the man was consistent.

  "Which stallion are we after?"

  "That one," Thad called.

  "The chestnut."

  The dark-haired man nodded and lifted a coil of rope from his saddle.

  "I'll circle around to his other side." Thad nudged his mount into action until he was positioned. Then, lifting his lasso, he signaled for Manuel to do the same.

  Though the mustang was agile, he was unable to avoid two ropes. Within minutes Thad and Manuel's mounts trotted smartly toward the buildings in the distance with the stallion held fast between the men.

  When he was turned loose in the corral, the two men leaned against the rail and watched as the animal pranced back and forth, his head high, his nostrils flaring.

  "I think, my friend," Manuel said softly, "you have made a good choice."

  "I hope so. I made Don Alvarez a very rich man because of his mare.

  I'd hate to waste all that horseflesh on the wrong stallion." ' " Now you sound more like a proud father than a horse breeder." Manuel glanced toward the ranch house.

  "That was the way Rosita's father spoke about me when I asked for her hand."

  Thad threw back his head and laughed.

  "I'll bet he's not saying that now."

  The handsome man shrugged.

  "He thinks I should tend to my own ranch now, instead of working for you. He keeps reminding me that if I would return to Mexico, I could work on his vast holdings and Rosita could live like her mother, with servants to attend to her every need instead of working like one herself."

  Thad glanced at him.

  "Maybe you ought to consider his offer."

  Manuel shook his head.

  "Rosita knows that the land would never be mine.

  Here in Texas I am a man. On her father's land I would be little more than a hired hand. And when her father dies, her older brother will inherit everything. He is an even harsher taskmaster than his father. "He met Thad's gaze.

  "I prefer things the way they are. So far I am able to manage my own small ranch and still keep working for you. The pay is fair.

  Someday soon, Rosita and I will have enough to enlarge the herds and the ranch house." " Why would you want to enlarge the house? " Thad asked.

  Manuel grinned.

  "Rosita wants a baby." He glanced at Thad.

  "With such a fine house, I should think you would want to find a woman to share it, and children to fill it with laughter."

  "I feel about marriage the same way I feel about fences," Thad said vehemently.

  "Both close a man in and take away his freedom."

  Manuel coughed discreetly.

  "I hope you will be good enough to refrain from repeating such things in the presence of my wife."

  "You know I will."

  Manuel nodded. Thad Con way was very good at keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Both men looked up at the clang of the dinner bell. With a last glance at the stallion, Thad led Manuel to the house.

  Over a dinner of tortillas and spicy venison, Thad listened to the musical voices of Manuel and Rosita as they brought each other up-to-date on the events of the day. Later, while Rosita cleaned up the kitchen, Manuel sat by the back door mending a harness.

  "We will say good-night," Manuel called.

  Thad nodded. Lighting a lantern, he bent over the columns of figures and wondered ag
ain if he'd been a fool to invest so much money in one mare. He leaned back. She was one fine piece of horseflesh. If she gave him the foals he was hoping for, she'd be worth any price.

  As the shadows lengthened, Thad found his thoughts veering from the ranch and turning instead to the new teacher. Caroline Adams. Her name played through his mind. As did the memory of the way she'd looked when she'd fought against her captors. There had been something wild, something primitive about her. She had stirred feelings in him.

  Feelings he couldn't quite fathom.

  He had a sudden urge to see if she was all right. Taking up his rifle, he strode out the door. Just one last visit, he assured himself, to make certain that she was comfortably settled in. And then he'd be able to put her out of his mind.

  Caroline added another log to the fire and turned around to admire the cabin.

  The colorful rag rug in front of the fire softened the dark wooden planks of the floor. The fresh white curtains at the windows made the rough dwelling look like home.

  With the door to the schoolroom open, she could appreciate the gleam of wood, the perfect symmetry of the students' chairs arranged in neat rows with her table at the front of the room.

  Her muscles were beginning to protest the hours of scrubbing and cleaning.

  But though she was tired, it was a pleasant sort of feeling. She had accomplished so much this day. She had met the women and children of the town; she had made friends. And though she tried to deny it, it had been especially interesting to meet Thad Con way's family. Some of the things revealed had only reinforced her original impressions of him as a dark and dangerous gunman.

  Knowing that, why was she so fascinated by him?

  She shook her head as if to put aside any more foolish thoughts. She would not waste her time thinking about a local gunman. Tomorrow, at Sunday services, she would have a second chance to present herself to the people of Hope. This time she intended to make a better impression.

  Tonight she needed more than a quick wash in a bucket of water. The thought of the clean, sparkling river that ran behind her cabin had her smiling.

  She carefully set her spectacles on the table beside her bed and let down her hair. Catching up her simple white nightshirt, she closed the door to the cabin and made her way to the river.