Prairie Cowboy

Chapter Two

He took Rae to school the next day. “Run and tell Miss White I need to speak to her, then go play with your friends.” He didn’t want Rae hearing this conversation.

Miss White paused to speak to one of the Schmidt boys as she crossed the yard to where he waited. She smiled at him as she drew closer. Her lips were pressed together. No flash of white teeth like he’d seen as she spoke to the children. Perhaps Rae had said something to warn her of his displeasure.

He held out his hand. “Here’s your hair ribbons.”

She refused to lift her hand and take them. “I gave them to Rachael. They’re hers.”

“She has no need of them. This is pioneer country. One has to be strong to survive.”

“And how, sir, does a ribbon in one’s hair make for weakness. Does it somehow suck life blood out the roots of one’s hair?” She faced him squarely, her eyes bold and challenging.

What happened to the apologetic distressed female he’d imagined? “It’s what it signifies.”

“You mean self-respect?”

She was one argumentative woman. “Useless things. Things for looks.”

“Beauty is not a useless thing. It’s a refreshing thing. Like a rainbow, a sunset or a blossom.”

Conor wondered what use a blossom was. “Do any of those put food on the table or hay in the barn?”

“‘Man shall not live by bread alone.’”

“Might surprise you to know that I recognize that as a Bible verse and I’m pretty sure it refers to needing God’s word. It has nothing to do with things just for lookee see.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it forward. He uncurled her fingers and pushed the ribbons into her fist. “Don’t have no need for hair ribbons.”

My how her eyes did flash, as full of fire as a winter stove. Faint color brushed her cheeks, making her look like some kind of fine china. But the way she stood, her fists clenched at her side and her jaw jutted out as if about to challenge him to defend himself, he knew she was a little scrapper. He liked that in a person.

His thoughts collided so harshly he reached for his forehead intending to grab it to stop the sudden headache, but then he thought better of it. No way would he let her guess she’d surprised him.

Yeah, she might fight for an ideal while surrounded by safety of the schoolyard, a town within walking distance and a home in one of the finest houses in the virgin settlement. But real life was vastly different. “Pretty little hair ribbons and righteous indignation are about as necessary and helpful as…” His thoughts stalled. “As dandelion fluff.”

She sniffed and tossed her head as if his words were meaningless. “Are you going to tell God His creation is useless?” She stomped away—daintily, of course—without a backward look.

Which left him no choice but to call to her back. “Me and Rae are survivors.”

Survivors! As if that provided excuse enough for the way he treated Rachael. Forcing her to grow up like a boy. Virnie paused inside the door where no one could see her and struggled to gain control of her emotions.

Miss Price had helped her get past the feelings deposited by her father.

She lifted her head. She would do the same for Rachael. There were things she could do in school and she intended to do them but she’d like to help the girl more.

Lord God, provide me an opportunity.

The next two days Conor brought Rachael to school and returned to wait for her when the day ended. He didn’t ride away until Virnie looked at him. And his look warned her not to interfere with the way he raised his daughter.

His silent insistence only increased her determination. She would find a way to help Rachael. She continued to pray for some kind of opening.

Friday afternoon, the children raced home, happy for the weekend. Except for Rachael who sat on a swing outside, waiting for her father.

Virnie, having no desire to see Conor again and relive all the emotions that insisted on surfacing each time she saw him, remained at her desk marking papers. Or at least she tried. Finally she put her pencil down, planted her elbows on the ink-stained surface and tipped her head into her palms. It was seven years since she last saw her father. She’d firmly put that part of her life behind her when she left with Miss Price. It was dead and gone as far as she was concerned. So why did it haunt her?

She sighed and returned to marking the papers. She knew Conor was the reason. Conor and Rachael. Their situation too clearly mirrored her early life and brought back unwanted memories.

The swing creaked. Virnie glanced out the window. Rachael still waited. Where was her father? She moved to the window and glanced down the road. No sign of dust indicating a rider. She slipped out to join the girl, sitting on the nearby swing so they could talk.

“Is your Pa coming for you?”

Rachael scuffed her shoes in the dust and studied the tracks she made. “Don’t think so.”

“How are you to get home?”

“Walk. Done it lots of times.”

Virnie waited, wondering why the child hadn’t already left but Rachael didn’t seem about to offer any answers. “Did you want something?” Perhaps this was the opening she’d prayed for. “Is your father at home?”

“He’s cutting the crop.”

“I see.” Only it didn’t answer her question as to whether or not he would be watching for her return. “Do you want to help me clean the chalkboard?”

“Sure.” She raced back to the school, Virnie on her heels. As they washed the board and cleaned the brushes, Virnie talked and silently prayed.

“I sure appreciate your help. You’re a good worker.”

“Pa says a person has to pull their weight in this country.”

Virnie supposed it was true about most places. She wanted to know how Rachael felt about being a girl. “Guess it doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl, you can do your share.”

“Pa says women have to be strong in order to survive out here. Say there’s no room for weakness.”

He did, did he? Well, strength could be disguised under velvet just as much as it could be revealed in leather. And it was time Conor found that out. Except she didn’t plan to be the person to show him. He reminded her too much of her past and she didn’t welcome the reminder.

She washed the chalk dust off her hands. “The blackboard and brushes are nice and clean, ready for Monday morning.”

Rachael had no reason to linger and yet she did. Tiny bubbles of apprehension skittered along Virnie’s nerves and she shivered. Was there a reason Rachael did not want to go home? Was Conor hurting her physically and Rachael wanted to tell Virnie but didn’t know how? “Is there something wrong at home that you don’t want to go there?”

Rachael shot her a surprised look. “Not at home.”

Relief warmed Virnie’s veins. Somehow she found it difficult to contemplate an abusive Conor. “Then what’s wrong?”

Rachael hung her head and studied her toes.

Virnie caught the girl’s chin and forced her to face Virnie. She kept her voice soft even though tension made her feel brittle inside. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Rachael scrubbed her lips together as she considered Virnie. Finally, her dark brown eyes wide, she whispered, “I don’t want to walk home.”

“But why? Haven’t you done it lots of times before?”