Misplaced (81 page)

Whe
n
they
’
d
reache
d
th
e
barn
,
Khar
a
insiste
d
o
n
helping
hi
m
pu
t
th
e
horse
s
a
w
ay
.
Sho
v
elin
g
filt
h
fro
m
th
e
stall
s
and
fillin
g
bucket
s
o
f
w
ate
r
lifte
d
he
r
sadness
.
A
s
sh
e
an
d
Oli
v
er
brushe
d
an
d
w
atere
d
th
e
animals
,
sh
e
wondere
d
wha
t
her
father would think if he saw her.

A
s
sh
e
se
t
fres
h
stra
w
down
,
Almos’
s
immens
e
head
nudged her shoulder. She combed her fingers
through the lock
of hair abo
v
e his e
y
es, and the two of them
w
atched Oli
v
er put
the
saddles
a
w
ay.
When
not
another
chore
could
be
found,
he
paused in front of the door.

“Com
e
tomorrow.
”
H
e
coul
d
no
t
hid
e
th
e
desperatio
n
i
n
his
voice
.
“
W
e
ca
n
ride
,
clea
n
th
e
stalls
.
I
don’
t
car
e
wha
t
w
e
do,
just be here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m late for class!”
Her
e
y
es
follo
w
ed
him
until
he
disappeared,
and
then
she
looke
d
fo
r
V
ictoria
.
Khar
a
foun
d
he
r
a
t
th
e
mai
n
house
,
dancing
bet
w
een the pantry and the sto
v
e.

W
iping
a
strand
of
floured
hair
from
her
forehead,
V
ictoria
grinned. “Where’
v
e you been, girlfriend?”

She smiled. “I
w
ent riding with Oli
v
er.”

V
ictoria’s
brows
knitted
tightly.
“I
thought
you
w
ere
going
wit
h
Chris
.
Wh
o
th
e
hec
k
i
s
Oli
v
er?
”
sh
e
aske
d
worriedly
.
“Di
d
you tell him why
w
e
’
re here?”

“Of course not. Ha
v
e I suddenly become an idiot?”

“No, but you seem more than a little
distracted.”

“Oli
v
er
is
W
alt’s
student.
One
day
he
will
lead
the
Apache
nation.”

“Impressi
v
e. Where did you meet him?”

“In the barn.”
V
ictori
a
looke
d
a
t
her
.
Hand
s
o
n
hips
,
Khar
a
emplo
y
e
d
a
tactic learned from her father. “
Y
ou wish to say something?”

“Onl
y
tha
t
Celest
e
an
d
he
r
stac
k
o
f
book
s
ha
v
e
bee
n
w
aiting
for
you
in
there,”
V
ictoria
informed
her
as
she
nodded
to
w
ard
th
e
fron
t
room
.
“Bu
t
befor
e
yo
u
go
,
tast
e
this,
”
sh
e
sai
d
and
offered
a spoon filled
with dark stew.

Khara’s mouth blazed. “What is it?”

“Chili con carne, New Mexican st
y
le.”

“I think you’
v
e found your true vocation.”

“Don’t try to change the subject with compliments.”
V
ictoria
marshaled
her
from
the
kitchen
and
out
to
Celeste,
who
w
aited by the fire.
“Poo
r
General,
”
sh
e
sai
d
sadl
y
o
f
th
e
orang
e
cat
,
ragge
d
and
missing
a
good-sized
piece
of
his
left
ear.
“He’s
getting
too
old
to do much except sleep. Come, child, and sit with us.”

Th
e
afternoo
n
passe
d
wit
h a
gran
d
depictio
n
o
f
the
Renaissance
.
Khara’
s
attentio
n
occasionall
y w
andere
d
to
thought
s
o
f
Oli
v
er
,
an
d
particularl
y
o
f
hi
s
dimples
.
Sunlight
streame
d
throug
h
th
e
windows
,
ont
o
th
e
flo
w
ere
d
sof
a
and
needlepoint
pillows,
and
the
air
smelled
wonderfully
of
garlic
and
burning
piñon.
Khara
remo
v
ed
her
riding
boots
and
sat
on
the rug near the fire.

“So
,
yo
u
see
,
mos
t
o
f
th
e
super
b
architectur
e
and
magnificent works
of
art
would
ne
v
er
ha
v
e
come
about
in
the
absence of a single in
v
ention.”

“The printing press accomplished all of this?

“No
t
directly
,
bu
t
withi
n
a
fairl
y
shor
t
tim
e
kno
w
ledge
became accessible to the masses.”

“Why would the rulers knowingly allow this?”

“
Because
it
led
to
higher
education
and
that,
my
dear
led
to
better
li
v
es
for
the
masses.
So
much
of
what
w
e
enjoy
now
is
a
result of that time.”

Khara
mulled
o
v
er
this
for
some
time.
“Leonardo
da
V
inci’s
intelligenc
e
mus
t
surel
y
ha
v
e
bee
n
a
divin
e
gift
,
an
d
y
e
t
the
scienc
e
h
e
ga
v
e
th
e
worl
d
i
s
a
t
leas
t
partiall
y
responsibl
e
for
religion being s
w
ept into the wind.”