Linda Ford - Prairie Cowboy

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?”

Rachael shrugged and pulled away. “It’s nothing.”

“No. Something is bothering you. Tell me what it is and maybe I can help.”

“You can’t do nothing.”

She ignored the poor grammar. “Why don’t you let me decide that?”

Rachael shuddered. “It’s Faulks’ dog.” The child’s fear beat like something alive.

But Virnie wasn’t getting any closer to what bothered Rachael. “Who are the Faulks?”

“They live on my way home.”

“Ahh. So you pass their place and you’re afraid of the dog?”

Rachael shot her head up and gave Virnie a defiant look. “I’m not scared.” But her eyes said she was.

Virnie made up her mind to see if the fear was legitimate or not. But she sensed she would offend Rachael if she made her plan obvious. “Rachael, I’m planning to visit all of my students’ homes. This afternoon would be a good time for me to visit you. Would you mind if I walk home with you?”

Tension drained out of the child so quickly she swayed. “That would be nice.”

Virnie closed the windows and the door then followed Rachael outside. They walked along the dusty road. The day was warm with a breeze that kept it from being unbearable. The sky was so blue that if Virnie lifted her head she could feel like she walked into a vast flat lake. Birds lifted from the yellow blades of grass as they passed, calling out a warning as they flew away.

Rachael skipped along beside her, chattering about all sorts of things until they had gone a mile and she slowed drastically. A house stood on a rise of land a few hundred feet away.

Virnie made a few quick assumptions. “This must be where the Faulks live.”

“Shh. If we’re really quiet maybe the dog won’t hear us.” Rachael tiptoed at the far edge of the road.

Virnie abandoned the middle of the road in favor of the side as well, not sure what she faced but certain of Rachael’s fear. Surely, she consoled herself, no one would keep a dog that threatened a child. Surely, Rachael’s fears were unfounded.

A snarling black shape bowled toward them.

Virnie’s heart clamored up her throat. This was the dog Rachael feared and for good reason. He barreled toward them like a freight train. Virnie backed away, her mouth suddenly as dry as the dust at their feet.

Rachael grabbed Virnie’s skirt and pressed close to her back. “It’s him. He’s going to get us.”

Something fierce and hot surged through Virnie. “No, he’s not.” She faced the attacking dog, now within twenty feet of the road. “Stop,” she yelled with all the authority she could muster. “Stop.”

The dog didn’t slow down one iota.

“Don’t move,” she told Rachael though she wondered if either of them could force their limbs to run.

She lowered her voice to her deepest tones. “Stop.”

A distant voice called, “Tictoc, you get back here right now, hear.”

The dog slowed slightly.

Virnie tore her gaze from the approaching menace to the house. A plump woman stood on the step waving a broom.

“Tictoc, don’t you make me come after you.” The woman banged the broom against the wall.

The dog stopped, still growling, still considering whether he wanted to continue his attack or obey the cross mistress.

“Tictoc, I’m warning you. Get back here. Now.” Another solid whack with the broom.

The dog edged backward, clearly wanting to complete what he had started. But another whack of the broom made him turn and slink away. Virnie stared as he skittered past the house and disappeared under a nearby fence.