Reckless Destiny (10 page)

“I’ve got work to do,” she said to herself. “I don’t have time for a man or for feeling sorry for myself.”

Tomorrow was a new day, a day filled with the satisfying challenge of children and teaching and work. It would be enough, she told herself.

R. J. Wexler leaned back against the adobe wall behind the mess hall. It had been four weeks since that old teacher had come. He pressed his lips together as he thought about not being able to ride Prince. Now it was another Monday morning, and the prospect of five whole days of school before Saturday rolled around again weighed on him considerably.

The desert stretched out in front of him. With the sun on the other side of the building to his right, a shadow stretched almost clear over to the next row of adobes that housed his pa’s office. He stayed in that shadow and kept his eyes open. Most of the soldiers were over at the parade ground and wouldn’t notice him back here, but he couldn’t be too careful.

It was almost time to report for school. He had a surprise for the teacher this morning. She had it coming after what she’d done to him.

After almost four weeks of restriction and chores, he was mighty sick of choppin’ wood.
She
was out on his horse nearly every day, which made him mad as a skilletful of rattlers. He looked at his hand and saw the splinters as he flexed his fingers, noting the bump on
his middle one, probably stained white forever from writing with chalk.

He poked his head around the building and saw Martha and Polly step up onto the boardwalk. Their footsteps clunked on the planks and dulled as they disappeared inside. He could hear Miss Tanner saying good morning to them, friendly as could be. Didn’t seem like the girls ever had no punishments.

R. J. was sick of the smell of chalk dust and sawdust and every other kind of dust.

The only good thing was, he hadn’t seen Kane and the schoolmarm together since the night he’d dumped her in the water ditch. R. J. smiled. He’d give up his brand-new birthday pistol and the gold nugget his pa had brought back from the Superstition Mountains if he could have seen that. He’d bet everything he held dear that Kane didn’t want her there at the fort any more than he did. The bad thing was, ever since that same night, Kane had been as ornery as a bear just woke up from his winter nap and hungry as all get out. Hadn’t had time for nobody or nothin’, not even checkers.

From his back pocket, R. J. pulled out the cigar he’d filched from his pa. He wouldn’t miss just one. Then he turned it end over end, trying to figure out which to bite off the way the men did.

“Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,” he said and, taking his best shot, bit off an end. His eyes bugged out as the bitter taste of the tobacco burnt his tongue, and he spit the piece into the sand.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” he said, still spitting.

When he finally got the taste of the cigar out of his mouth, he pulled a match from his pocket and scraped it on the bottom of his boot the way he’d seen Sergeant Brewster do. Nothing happened. He tried again. Same thing.

“Dang it,” he mumbled. Looking around, he spotted a rock and dragged the match on it until it sizzled into flame.

He grinned triumphantly and touched it to one end of the cheroot. Putting his mouth around it, he puffed a couple of times and watched the lighted end glow red. He needed to get this thing goin’ good, so’s it wouldn’t go out. He sucked in real hard. A big strong pull of cigar smoke filled his mouth and burned his throat. He started to cough. Covering his mouth with his hand, he tried to hush up the sound. He couldn’t seem to get rid of the bitter, burning taste. His stomach didn’t feel too good either.

“Dang it,” he said again, spitting into the sand.

When he finally controlled the spasms, he peeked around the building again to see if anyone had heard. Two soldiers walked by deep in conversation, and a lady with her laundry basket overflowing. No one seemed to pay him any mind.

“Almost ready,” he said, fishing in his pocket for the rest of his supplies. “This oughta scare the tar outa that ol’ schoolmarm. Maybe she’ll get the hint that me and Kane don’t want her here.”

Cady glanced up from her seat at the end of the table when she noticed a body block the light in the doorway. The children, ten in all now, were already in their places working on the sums she’d given them. The sound of chalk scratching on slates stopped when R. J. swaggered into the room.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Mornin’, ma’am.” His voice sounded raspy.

She studied him more carefully and thought he looked a little pale. “Are you feeling all right, Reynolds?
You sound hoarse. Are you coming down with something?”

“No, ma’am.” He coughed.

“Are you sure? Perhaps you should go home and stay in bed, just in case.”

“It’s just chalk dust that makes me cough. I’m fine. Truly.”

He sat down beside Bart Grimes. Across the table, John Eagle stared at him watchfully. She looked at Reynolds again and saw something in his blue eyes that gave her a little shiver. There was no reason to be nervous, she told herself. Lately, he’d been as good as gold.

“All right, then.” She stood up and handed him a slate and a piece of chalk. “Bart, show Reynolds what you’re doing. Not your answers, please, just the problems.”

“Yes’m,” Bart said.

The two boys bent their heads, one light brown, the other bright red, and industriously started on the task she’d set. As the scratching began again on the slates, she tried to shake off the feeling of apprehension. She was being silly and foolish.

Foolish.

There was that word again. It was the only way to describe her behavior around Kane. She couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. Not only couldn’t she stop thinking about him, she was counting the days since she’d been in his arms. It seemed like forever, but only three weeks had gone by. When she saw him, he was always polite but distant. And he always made some excuse about something he had to take care of. Was he really too busy to talk?

Sometimes, though, she seemed to feel his eyes on her, watching her. Then she reminded herself that it was strictly duty. He’d promised Jack.

She’d casually inquired about Kane once, and Betsy Wexler had told her that he was up to his ears in work. The Indians were acting up, and there were precautions to think about. Cady hadn’t seen him much, but she’d thought about him plenty.

Now that she understood why it had been so important to her to come back to Arizona, she still wasn’t sure what to do about it. Only one thing was clear to her. After setting herself on fire in front of him, she had to be dignified and in control the next time he was anywhere near.

“Miss Tanner?”

“Hm?” Cady lifted her chin from her hand and looked at Martha Halleck. The child’s voice had roused her from her woolgathering, and she realized it was quiet in the room. Her students had stopped writing on their slates and all of them were looking at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“We’ve finished.”

“Yes, I see.” She stood up. “I’ll just walk around the room and check your work.”

She stopped first beside Polly Chase and looked at her sums. “Good. They’re all correct except one,” she said. “What’s five plus nine?”

The child thought for a minute, then counted on her fingers. “Fourteen?”

“That’s right.” Cady pushed the child’s blond bangs from her forehead to get a better look at her blue eyes. “If you practice and memorize your sums, you won’t need to use your fingers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rounded the table and stood beside John Eagle. He was beyond sums and working on his multiplication tables. Without a word, he held his slate out. She checked his answers.

“Nice work, John. Every problem is correct.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, although she thought she saw a flicker of satisfaction in his black eyes. She looked across the table at Reynolds.

“Let’s see what you’ve done,” she said.

He squirmed on the hard bench. “These were awful hard, ma’am. I didn’t exactly finish ‘em.”

She held her hand out across the table. “Let me see your work. We’ll see where you’re having trouble.” She stared into his face. For some reason, his expression made her look closer. She couldn’t say why exactly, just that he seemed tense, expectant. Finally, she shook her head slightly and looked down. His slate was blank. “Reynolds, you haven’t put any answers down. Or any problems either.”

He glanced at the door. “Yes’m, I know. I don’t—”

A loud pop sounded from outside.

Cady darted a look out the doorway. “What was that?”

“Sounded like a shot,” Bart Grimes offered.

She set the boy’s slate on the table. Fear skittered through her as she remembered what Mrs. Wexler had said about Indian trouble. “You must be mistake—”

There was another explosion, and two more right after. Outside, there were shouts and several soldiers ran by the mess hall with rifles in their hands.

“Is it Indians?” Polly Chase asked, her blue eyes big as moons.

Cady moved beside the child and bent down. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m sure it’s not.”

Several more bursts of explosion filled the air and then the sound of a bugle call.

“It’s Injuns, all right,” Bart said, jumping to his feet.

Cady’s heart pounded. The children were her responsibility to keep safe. There was gunfire. She couldn’t let any of the boys or girls outside.

“Everyone down on the floor.” She glanced at the open window behind her and felt her chest pull tight when she realized how vulnerable they were. “Reynolds, John, Bart, turn these tables over and everyone get behind them. I’m going to see what’s happening out there.”

The boys remained motionless as Reynolds stood up and put a hand out to stop her. “Miss Tanner, ma’am, you stay inside with the young’uns. Wouldn’t want nothin’ t’happen to ya.” He cocked a thumb toward his chest. “I’ll go see what’s goin’ on.”

“No!” Cady took a deep breath and studied the boy. Bravery in such a young man brought a lump to her throat. He was just a child. And he was in her care. She couldn’t allow him to go outside and possibly be hit by a stray bullet.

“That’s very gallant of you, Reynolds.” She shook her head. “But I want you to stay here with the others. I’ll go.”

Outside, she heard a staccato series of explosions. They sounded very close. In the distance, she heard more shouts from the soldiers. Had someone been hurt? Where was Kane? Was he all right? She wished she knew what was going on.

Stories she’d read in eastern newspapers of Indian massacres flashed through her mind. The details had been recounted in grisly detail and made her shiver. What if the Indians got past the soldiers and into the fort? How could she defend the children? She looked at them, still standing motionless.

“Turn those tables over,” she shouted. “Now! And I want everyone”—she looked at Reynolds—”and I mean everyone, down behind them.”

She saw John Eagle and Bart move to follow orders as she turned away.

Glancing around the mess hall, she searched frantically for something to use as a weapon. This was nothing but a big open room with oblong tables and wooden benches. All the food was prepared in other buildings, and the men gathered here only to eat. About the best she could hope for was a dull knife or fork. She’d be better off throwing books to hold off the Indians. Kane had teased her about doing just that the very first day she’d arrived. Where was he?

She and Reynolds started for the door at the same time. She stopped and grabbed a handful of his cotton sleeve.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside to help,” he answered, trying to pull out of her grasp.

“No, you stay put. I need you to keep the younger children calm.”

He stood to his full height. From the gleam in his eye, she knew he took satisfaction from the fact that she had to look up slightly to him.

“I’m a man, Miss Tanner. A man doesn’t hide with a bunch of little kids.”

“I’m in charge here. And you’re not a man yet.”

“Old enough.”

She was scared and angry and in no mood to argue. “If you don’t get down behind those tables with the others this instant, you’ll be writing ‘I will obey my teacher’ until your hand falls off!”

He didn’t move or say a word. She took hold of his earlobe.

“Hey!” he hollered. “Ow! Let go!”

She pulled him closer until she could see the fine reddish-gold hair on his chin that he would be taking a straight-edge to in a year or so, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Move, mister, behind those tables with the
others, before this ear comes to rest on your shoulder. Do you understand?”

“Yes’m,” he said meekly. He turned and, with one hand on the edge, leaped over the table and crouched down beside Bart Grimes.

She stared at them and at the open window behind. “On second thought, Reynolds, there
is
something you can do.”

“Yes’m?”

“Stand guard at the window.” She thought for a minute. “But stay down and keep your head out of the way.”

He nodded and crouched down beside it.

“Bart and John, watch the younger ones.”

The two boys nodded and she ran onto the boardwalk outside. The sun was bright, and it took her several seconds for her eyes to adjust. Then she saw Kane, standing just outside the door, pistol drawn, every muscle tensed, senses alert as he stared into the distance. Cady’s heart jumped a little at the sight of him. Then she followed his gaze and saw soldiers ringing the perimeter of the fort, all of them in identical poses, one knee in the sand, rifles raised and sighting an invisible enemy.

She moved beside him and put her hand on his arm. “What is it, Indians?”

“I’m not sure.” He barely shook his head as a bemused expression crossed his face.

“We heard shots. They sounded like they were right outside the mess hall,” she said.

“They weren’t like any gunshots I ever heard before.” Kane sounded puzzled.

“Then what was it?”

“I can’t say, but I intend to find out.” He looked down at her, and his mouth softened a little. “You stay inside. I’m taking a patrol out to—”

“You’re going out there?” she asked, fear making her heart pound until she thought it might jump into her throat. “You can’t.”