Hero Of The Flint Hills

“Shall I help you find it?” Lynnette tried to turn too, but a man had entered the aisle behind her and seemed reluctant to let her pass.

“No, I’ll just be a minute,” the girl called.

Lynnette stepped into the sunlight and got her first look at Cottonwood Station. She knew the town of Cottonwood Falls was across the river, but perhaps there would be a chance to explore it later.

The porter gave her only a second to study her surroundings before he reached to help her with her bags, tossing them unceremoniously on the platform below. Lynnette thanked him as he helped her down the narrow steps.

Out of the way of other passengers, Lynnette took a better look around. Surely this was a place full of stories. A couple with three small, quiet children and a pile of luggage waited for their turn to climb aboard. A young woman in provocative finery watched the passengers disembark. Was she waiting for someone in particular or for a potential customer? An elderly man in a top hat leaned on a cane, ignoring a woman’s chatter. His wife?

As Lynnette’s eyes roved the area, they lit on the most interesting person of all. A young man with blond hair to his shoulders lounged against an open wagon. His long slender legs and hips were encased in dusty denim. His blue shirt was open at the throat, its sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows. He thrust his hands into his pockets, pulling the black suspenders taut. His chest and shoulders looked far more muscular than the men’s she saw in the city. Were theirs simply hidden by their dress jackets?

She felt the curl of excitement in her stomach that meant she smelled a story. My, but he was interesting, she thought, then realized he was watching her just as intently. She turned away, but not before she noticed that his expression was more than slightly unpleasant. She glanced at the train and considered going back after Emily, but realized it had only been a couple of minutes since she had disembarked and there was still a steady stream of travelers exiting the car.

What could she represent that would make the young man scowl at her? Sure, her dress was slightly out of style and well-worn, but it was tasteful and clean, or had been this morning. It must have been her imagination. She looked back at him to see. No, he was scowling. Well, frowning at least. His hat was pulled down too far to see his brows so she couldn’t say be was actually scowling.

But I’m definitely staring. She turned away but movement brought her eyes back again. He straightened, pulled his hands from his pockets, and broke into a dimpled smile. Lynnette was astounded. It was several seconds before she could turn to see what had caught his attention.

Emily, overloaded with bags, had emerged from the car, her hat held precariously between two fingers. Lynnette hurried to help the porter lighten her load. Emily suddenly seemed like a vulnerable child. That strange man looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. Lynnette considered asking the porter to stay with them until Arlen arrived.

When Emily jumped to the platform, Lynnette drew her close, keeping herself between Emily and the stranger. “That man,” she started, giving the barest nod in his direction.

Emily leaned around Lynnette, then squealed. “Christian!”

Emily flew across the platform, down the steps and into Christian’s open arms. He lifted her off the ground as if she were a small child and spun her around. The wind finished what the nap had started, and Emily’s hair fell down her back. Christian’s hat hit the ground and for a moment their faces were blurred by straight blond hair and dark brown curls.

Lynnette was too stunned to follow. She stood beside their collection of bags watching the brother and sister. It had never occurred to her that family would actually greet each other this way. She had expected a warm smile, a handshake, perhaps a kiss on the cheek. She was envious.

Christian finally let the girl go, and they walked together toward her. They still had their arms around each other, and Lynnette wondered how his long legs kept from becoming entangled in Emily’s flowing skirts.

“Lynnette,” Emily said when they reached her. “This is my brother, Christian. Christian, meet Miss Lynnette Sterling.”

“Hey! Good job, Muffin,” Christian said, unwrapping his arm from his sister’s shoulder to stretch it out toward Lynnette. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lynnette Sterling.”

Lynnette took the hand, hoping her face no longer registered her surprise. “How do you do,” she murmured. She couldn’t quite forget that this same man had been scowling at her only moments before. Frowning at least. It seemed a little hard to believe now, he was so obviously happy.

She realized they had both looked at each other a little too long, measuring, she decided. She pulled her hand free and reached for one of the bags.

“Mama said to give you an extra hug for her.”

A hesitant quality in the girl’s voice made Lynnette straighten to see his reaction. For a moment he was completely still. She thought she saw pain in his eyes, then it was gone and the dimpled smile was back. “Well, let’s have it,” he said.

Emily giggled and jumped into his arms. He swung her around again. Up close, Lynnette could see how tightly they held each other, how their cheeks pressed together. The envy she had felt before was replaced with a longing not quite so sisterly. She was staring again. Even as she turned to reach for the bags she had a feeling he had noticed her interest.

A moment later, Emily was on her feet and all three were gathering up the bags, with Christian taking the largest share.

“You ladies ever hear of traveling light?” he asked, leading the way to the wagon.

“Not me,” said Emily. “We each have a trunk besides.”

Christian let out an exaggerated groan as he set the bags down beside the wagon and retrieved his hat. “Come show them to me, Em.” He tugged on one of Emily’s curls. As they walked away, Lynnette heard his teasing. “I better braid your hair before we head home. Wouldn’t you like that? Two nice little pigtails like you used to wear?” Emily squealed and tried to pull her hair out of his reach.

Lynnette watched them as they found the trunks in front of the luggage car. She tried to think of a word to describe the way he moved. Lithe, she decided, and wondered if he knew how to dance. When Christian hoisted Emily’s trunk to his shoulder and started across the platform, Lynnette turned away, pretending to study her surroundings. She didn’t want him to look at her and guess she had been imagining herself dancing in his arms.

He dropped the trunk to the wagon bed and pushed it forward, then turned to lean against the wagon while he caught his breath. “Real tight pigtails,” he said to Emily, as if carrying the trunk had only been a momentary interruption in his teasing. “So you always look surprised.” He raised his eyebrows to demonstrate, and Emily hit him in the stomach.

He merely grinned and headed back for Lynnette’s trunk. Lynnette hadn’t been certain what she would need on the ranch and, along with every imaginable type of clothing, she had packed several books and lots of writing supplies. It hadn’t occurred to her until she watched Christian try to lift the trunk just how big and heavy it was.

He didn’t waste time struggling with it but got the porter to help. When the two men had shoved the trunk into the back of the wagon, Christian gave the man a coin. “Thanks for the help,” he said. “You know how it is. You go away for the summer, you just have to take your favorite anvil.”

Lynnette tried to swallow her embarrassment. She felt a need to apologize, but before she could, Emily applied another blow to Christian’s stomach. “Quit teasing!” The girl walked demurely to the front of the wagon and waited, one hand out limply, for Christian to help her in. Christian tossed Lynnette a persecuted look before following obediently. He reached for the hand as if to assist the girl, but grabbed her waist and lifted her instead. Emily giggled.

He held a hand toward Lynnette, indicating she was \\ next. She was almost afraid to approach him. He grinned a challenge. She stepped forward with no small amount of trepidation, but he merely steadied her as she climbed aboard.

The seat seemed rather narrow, and Lynnette was uncertain how to make room for Christian. The wagon rocked as he sprang into the bed behind them. She retreated to the side, pulling her skirts out of the way, as he climbed over the seat to sit between her and Emily.

Emily seemed less concerned about her skirts. “Why didn’t you bring the buggy?”

“And do what with the trunks?” He reached across Lynnette to untie the reins from the hand brake and release it. Lynnette tried to shrink out of his way and wasn’t entirely successful. It somehow embarrassed her to be this close to a man she had just met. Doubly so when he seemed capable of ignoring the contact.

“You could have taken our trunks in the wagon, and Arlen could have driven us in the buggy.” Emily emphasized Arlen, making it sound like a preferable arrangement.

“Arlen’s off shaking hands and kissing babies.”

Lynnette felt a twinge of guilt. It hadn’t occurred to her to question why Arlen hadn’t met the train. In fact at that moment she could barely call up an image of Arlen’s face. She wished she could see Emily; she and Arlen looked so much alike. When she tried, she ended up studying Christian’s profile.

He looked nothing like either of them. One sandybrown eyebrow arched above an incredibly blue eye. Well, she knew there was a matched set, but she could only see one. She knew also that the tanned cheek could crease into a charming dimple. His strong, lean jaw contrasted with his full lips. Exactly what color were those lips? Carnation? No, not quite so bright. Rose, then? Perhaps. A pink rose at dusk.

The lips curved up into a grin that revealed white even teeth. Lynnette jumped, her attention quickly shifting to his eyes—both of them. When had he caught her staring? She couldn’t have been more mortified if he had winked. The humor in his eyes made her think he would do it. She pretended to look beyond him toward Emily, but he had to know she couldn’t see her. Emily was talking, she realized, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to make any intelligent response. After a moment, she turned away.

Lynnette thanked God she wasn’t prone to blushing. He could be debating between scarlet and crimson. She resolutely turned her attention to the countryside. Their route wandered a little through rocky hills, climbing ever higher, and Christian’s leg pressed against her own. She was sure she felt its heat soak through her heavy skirt. She tried to scoot farther away, noticing how the trees seemed greener and fresher here than in the city.

She took in a deep breath of the summer-ripe air. She identified the scent of wind-tossed dust, growing vegetation, a faint hint of horse, soap and sun-dried clothes. She wanted to groan. She had never been so preoccupied with a man before.

She only noticed everything about him because she was a writer, she told herself. She looked for details. She liked to try to describe what she saw and touched. Possible descriptions of the man sitting next to her made her fingers tremble.

She would block him out. It was much more useful to describe the countryside. The…hills…grass…

Christian cleared his throat.

Lynnette closed her eyes for a moment. She had to get her imagination under control. It was fatigue, of course, that made it so difficult.

“Arlen should be back sometime tomorrow,” he said.

Lynnette turned toward him; she really had no choice without being rude. My, but he was attractive.

After she’d gazed for a moment into sky-blue eyes, his words found their way to her brain. Arlen. Tomorrow. He expected a response. She wasn’t sure what she should say. That she was dying to see Arlen again? When she couldn’t remember what he looked like except he didn’t have full lips or dimples or blue-blue eyes? Besides it didn’t sound quite proper.

“I’m grateful to your family for letting me visit this summer,” she ventured.

He eyed her oddly for a moment then turned his attention back to the team. Lynnette supposed it hadn’t sounded particularly romantic.

“How’s Papa?” Emily asked. “Catch me up on everything.”

“Well,” Christian began, “Papa’s fine. Nothing much slows him down. Perry broke his leg last winter, but he’s healing.” He turned to Lynette. “Perry’s our hired man.”

Lynnette nodded, too rattled by their earlier exchange to think clearly. He must have taken her lack of response as lack of interest. He made no further effort to include her as he described the health and activities of several people whom she did not know. She hung on every word, trying to associate each name with each situation. She wasn’t merely captivated by his voice.

When Christian mentioned Elayne was due to foal in a few weeks, Emily leaned forward to inform Lynnette, “I named her. Elayne was Sir Lancelot’s mother.”

Christian turned to Lynnette. “You know what she was reading the summer we got the mare.”

“It’s a great name,” Emily said, scowling at her brother.

“I suppose if the foal’s male we’ll have to name it Lancelot.”

Lynnette thought he spoke to Emily, but his eyes were still on her. It was easy to gaze into those blue pools and forget to speak. She thought of a mouse hypnotized by a snake. Emily rescued her by mentioning Tyrant, pulling Christian’s attention away from Lynnette. Tyrant turned out to be a cat who had the run of the house.

They had been steadily climbing into the rocky hills and at the top of one, Christian stopped the wagon. “I thought you might like to stretch your legs.” He reached across Lynnette to set the brake and tie the reins. He stood and, placing one foot on the dashboard in front of Lynnette, leaped to the ground.

Emily didn’t seem particularly surprised by this rather athletic feat. “You’re the one with the stretched legs. Lynnette and I are fine.”

Christian grinned and offered his hand to Lynnette. She knew she hesitated a moment before taking it and hoped he thought it was because of his sister’s words. He held her hand no longer than necessary and stepped away. Still in that one moment she had felt his strength and warmth. And his calluses, she reminded herself, as if that would make a difference.

The wind played with Lynnette’s heavy skirts as she turned and stared. “You can see forever up here.”

The green hills tiered below them to the valley and the cottonwood trees that hid the river. Hazy hills were visible beyond, complementing the pale blue sky.

“This is the worst part of coming to the ranch,” Emily said.

Lynnette turned toward her, laughing in surprise, then realized what Emily was talking about. The girl had pulled her hair together and held it at her shoulder in one fist while tendrils whirled around her face. Lynnette could feel her own small hat being tugged loose from its numerous pins. “We have wind in the city, too,” she offered.

“Not if you don’t go outside.”

Lynnette turned to Christian and caught his playful grin. “She should have let me braid her hair.”

Christian’s conspiratorial tone disconcerted her. “Perhaps we should go,” she suggested. Christian pulled a basket out from under the seat and handed it to Emily who balanced it on her lap. After one last look across the valley Lynnette let Christian help her aboard and waited as he resumed his former place.

As soon as the wagon was moving again, Emily opened the basket It contained three pint jars packed in straw. “Tea,” Christian said, handing one to Lynnette. “It isn’t hot, but it’s wet.”

“Why didn’t she send lemonade?” Emily was clearly disappointed.

“Martha seemed to think tea would be more proper.”

Emily snorted her disagreement but soon began plying Christian with questions about the summer activities planned for the neighborhood. Lynnette opened the jar, grateful it wasn’t full. She was afraid she would spill it on her dress and look a fright when she met Arlen’s father.

Perhaps Emily was used to drinking from a jar in a moving wagon. Her conversation never faltered. Lynnette was only half-listening when a tall rock house became visible. It dropped from sight as the wagon dipped into a valley then reappeared, looming over the countryside.

“Thank goodness.” Emily sighed. “We’re almost home. I’m so-o-o tired of traveling.”

“Poor little Em,” soothed Christian. “Didn’t you get to nap on the train?”

Emily’s elbow landed firmly in Christian’s ribs, causing him to jolt into Lynnette. He gave her an apologetic smile, but he didn’t exactly look repentant.

“I slept some,” Emily said, “but there were two little girls giggling the whole way.”

Lynnette felt a twinge of apprehension. She hoped Emily didn’t relate the source of the girls’ giggles. Even if Emily had seen the book, even if she remembered the title and author, no one would guess it was hers.

She stole a glance at Christian and found his eyes on her. Had he sensed her unease? She concentrated on breathing slowly, willing her hands to remain still in her lap. She didn’t want her reaction to make him curious enough to ask Emily why the girls had been giggling.

Another glance told her he still watched her. Perhaps he was vain enough to take credit for her nervousness, to believe his leg pressing against hers made her heart beat loudly enough for him to hear, to believe his arm against her shoulder made her fingers tremble.

And of course, that wasn’t it at all.

Chapter Two

The wagon was almost even with the house before Lynnette was able to relax. And it wasn’t because of the man sitting so close beside her. Or at least it wouldn’t have been if she wasn’t certain that he watched her.

“Mostly we live in the top two floors,” Emily said. She seemed to take Lynnette’s effort to keep her face turned away from Christian as interest in the house and leaned around Christian to talk as the wagon jostled up the slope. “The bottom floor’s for entertaining, which we don’t ever do.” She scowled at her brother.

Lynnette stole a glance at Christian. He was smiling fondly at Emily. Deep dimples in his cheeks made her long to test the texture of the fine blond stubble visible where the sun struck his face. Shocked by her thoughts, Lynnette turned her attention back to the house.

It had been built into a hillside, allowing ground-level entrances to the bottom floor in front and the middle floor in back. The first floor sported corner bay windows and a porch at the front door. These became three balconies for the rooms above. The top floor consisted of a mansard roof with two large dormers, each with its own smaller balcony.

Christian drove the wagon past the house and turned up a graveled path that led between it and the barn. Lynnette had been so enthralled by the house that she had scarcely noticed the barn. It too had ground-level entrances on two floors and a ramp that led to the third. She looked forward to a chance to explore the massive structure.

The wagon turned again, and Lynnette got a glimpse of a wide valley below before her view was blocked by the house itself. The back had the same quiet grandeur as the front, though it was less imposing with only two stories visible.

The two gables had the same small balconies, and she turned to see what their view might be. The ground sloped upward gradually from the house for barely twenty yards then rose sharply. A trail meandered up a hill that dwarfed the house, and Lynnette could only guess what the view would be from there.

“Welcome to the Prescott Ranch.”

Lynnette turned to find Christian regarding her quizzically. Was she acting like a city girl, studying her surroundings so intently? There was no need for her to feel defensive. She was a city girl. Besides, she had no reason to impress this man.

“Thank you,” she murmured, hearing the chill in her voice.

Emily had already climbed down from the wagon and run around it. Christian jumped down from the dashboard and turned to offer Lynnette a hand. She was about to grasp it when Emily’s shout caught their attention.

“Papa!”

A tall thin man with fine gray hair had come through the door. Emily flung herself into his arms, and he swung her around much as Christian had done. “It’s good to have you home, Em,” he said once she was back on her feet. He sounded slightly out of breath. “Help the lady down, Christian.”

In a moment she was on the ground, and Christian’s callused hand was slipped out of hers. Instead of stepping away, he took her arm lightly and led her forward. “Miss Sterling, let me introduce Hugh Prescott. Pa, Lynnette Sterling.”

“We’re happy to have you, Miss Sterling,” Hugh said, his arm still around his daughter. “I’m sorry Arlen isn’t here to make you feel welcome. The rest of us will do the best we can.”

Lynnette smiled. “That’s most kind of you.” He looked so much like Christian she had to turn and compare their faces. But Christian wasn’t smiling. She turned back to the elder Prescott quickly. “Please, call me Lynnette.”

“Christian, get Jake to help you with the trunks. I’m sure the ladies would like to get out of the sun.” He turned and walked Emily to the house, releasing her only as they came to the door. He held a hand toward Lynnette, encouraging her forward.

She resisted taking a backward glance at Christian. Why had he been watching her so seriously? Was he judging her suitability to marry his brother?

She decided to put Arlen’s strange brother out of her mind and walked resolutely through the door. Emily had crossed a small room lined with benches. Hooks on the wall held coats and rain gear. Several pair of boots were shoved under the benches. At the end of the room, the door stood open.

“That way’s the washroom and the kitchen.” Emily pointed to the left when Lynnette had caught up with her. “This is Pa’s study,” she said, indicating the room to the right of the entry.

Lynnette followed Emily through a door across the hall and stepped into the living room. There was a rock fireplace, groups of comfortable-looking chairs, small tables, shelves and an open stairway leading to the top floor.

Across the room stood double glass doors. The view of the valley beyond was breathtaking. Lynnette walked toward the doors trying to think of words to describe the shades of green in the grasses and trees, the sheer distance that one was able to see.

She opened the doors and stepped out. The round balcony was larger than it had appeared from below. With the breeze on her face and nothing in sight to ground her on the hillside, Lynnette felt as if she were floating over the valley. Her fingers and toes tingled with adrenaline, and she gripped the rail.

“I’ll tell Martha to bring some lemonade.” Hugh had spoken softly, and Lynnette turned in time to see him leave his daughter’s side. As she walked back inside, he disappeared around the stairway. A large black and white cat entered from the same direction and sat inspecting the new arrivals.

“That’s Tyrant,” Emily said, motioning Lynnette into a chair. “Don’t try to be his friend.” At Lynnette’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “He’ll make up his own mind, and you’re better off ignoring him. He loves Arlen and Papa, but barely tolerates the rest of us. Martha despises him, but I think he loves her the best, maybe because she smells like the kitchen.”

Tyrant walked past them as if they were unimportant and sprang into a brocade-covered chair, making himself comfortable. “Come here, Tyrant,” Emily coaxed. “Don’t you remember me?” Tyrant gazed at her, blinked and proceeded to wash his paws.

Christian came through the door backward, carrying one side of Lynnette’s trunk. The other end was supported by a boy only slightly older than Emily. “Welcome home, Miss Emily,” he said, giving her a smile that could only be described as teasing.