Hero Of The Flint Hills. Cassandra Austin

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