Cassandra Austin - Hero Of The Flint Hills

“Lynnette!” He took the last steps much faster and hurrying to her side. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Flirting with me,” Christian said with a grin.

Arlen brushed a kiss across her cheek, ignoring his brother. “There’s really no need to be up and around so early, dear. Emily won’t be up till nearly noon.”

“It’s what I’m used to, Arlen,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t show her irritation.

Christian stood, giving her a polite smile. “Come on, brother, let’s get to work.”

Arlen didn’t seem inclined to leave. “This shouldn’t take long. Make use of Father’s library. Have you seen it yet?”

“Come on, brother. Tear yourself away.”

Lynnette couldn’t help but laugh. They were both watching her, one so serious, one with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry about me. Go fix the wagon.”

“It shouldn’t take long,” Arlen repeated, as Christian began dragging him from the room.

“It’ll take all morning,” Christian called over his shoulder, waving with his free hand. They were nearly across the living room before Arlen actually turned and followed his brother.

Lynnette went back to her breakfast, hardly caring that it had grown cold. She loved the teasing relationship between the brothers and the obvious affection between Christian and Emily. It would be wonderful to be part of a family like this.

And if she married Arlen she would be. Christian and Emily would be her brother and sister. She smiled at the thought, though it didn’t seem quite real.

It wasn’t until she had finished eating and took her tray back to the kitchen that she began to consider what she would do during the morning. She could go to her room and write, but the thought held little interest for her just now.

The kitchen was empty when she arrived, and she washed her dishes quickly in the soapy water still in the sink. She headed for her room feeling she had put one over on Martha who would surely have stopped her from cleaning up after herself.

In her room, she stared at the small writing desk. She considered taking a notebook to one of the balconies but felt certain that she wouldn’t get anything done. She stepped out on the balcony and looked across at the barnyard. The small corral was empty this morning. There was no sign of the men, probably working inside the barn.

As she leaned over the railing to see more of the yard, she noticed a narrow path that disappeared around the barn. Instantly she decided to follow the path. She wanted to explore her surroundings, and she didn’t need a guide to do so.

She turned back into the room, carefully closing the doors against the invasion of the cat. She slipped out of two of the petticoats to make walking easier, changed to her sturdiest shoes and grabbed her broadest-brimmed hat. She adjusted the pin through the hat and hair as she left the room.

Christian caught a glimpse of pink through the open barn door. He couldn’t help watching the trim figure as long as she was in sight. The moment he returned to work, he realized he had been caught.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Arlen’s tone said, I told you so.

“She certainly is.” Christian grinned at his brother. “You’ll forgive me for staring.”

“Of course. I rather enjoyed it. Stare all you want. Just remember I saw her first.”

Christian laughed. “You won’t mind having men stare at your wife?”

Arlen seemed surprised but not offended. “That’s part of the idea,” he said. “If they don’t remember me, they’ll at least remember her and think I have extremely good judgment. Or good luck. Either way, I’m sure to get their votes.”

Christian tried not to show his shock at his brother’s words. “She’s a campaign strategy, then?”

Arlen laughed. “She’s more than that, of course.”

They heard Jake coming, and Arlen changed the subject. “This really will take all morning, won’t it?”

“That’s what I said.” Christian placed another board between the sawhorses and measured it.

“You said we were fixing the wagon,” Arlen hollered above the sound of the saw, “not rebuilding it.”

“It’s all in how you look at things,” Christian hollered back.

Lynnette followed the path past the barn and along the side of the hill. A stone bench under a huge tree caught her eye, but she was determined to walk and turned her attention back to the path. It seemed to follow a natural terrace that narrowed to barely four feet as it turned sharply with the hillside. Around the corner, the terrace widened out again. She fell into a comfortably brisk pace.

She had walked often at home, her neighborhood being only a few blocks from the capitol building and the business district. Her trips had been fewer and more rushed the past few years because of her reluctance to leave her father alone for too long.

Lost in thoughts about her father and her home, Lynnette paid little attention to where the path led. Abruptly it forked. She wondered fleetingly if it had branched out before and she hadn’t noticed. To her left the path wandered along the hillside much as it had before. To the right it dropped into the valley. Part of the path was hidden, but she could see where it crossed a little stream below. Looking back she discovered that all sign of the ranch yard had disappeared.

The stream looked inviting. The day had warmed considerably since she left the house and her only shade was the insubstantial brim of her hat. Studying the slope between her and the stream, she decided against it. Her legs ached at the thought of climbing back up the hill. She considered going back, but the sun wasn’t close to its zenith yet. She had a couple hours, she was sure, before noon. She would walk on a little farther then make her way back.

A few minutes later the path abruptly disappeared. She stood on the edge of a large grassy prairie. This, she decided, was where the path had been leading. From here a rider would turn in any number of directions to check cattle, or water levels, as Christian had said his father was doing. Or whatever else ranchers did.

Lynnette realized she had been picturing Christian on horseback riding across the pasture. She tried to change the image to Arlen, but it was too late.

She brushed the thoughts aside as an outcrop of limestone caught her attention. It wasn’t far away, and she decided to take a closer look before turning back. The ground was uneven and littered with rocks and clumps of coarse grasses. She hadn’t realized how smooth the path was until she left it. Lifting her skirts, she walked on.

The rocks were farther away than she had realized and much larger. As she approached, she wondered if Christian and Arlen had climbed them as children, perhaps Emily too, though it was hard to imagine.

Lynnette walked around the outcrop, searching for toeholds and found instead the letters C and P scratched deeply into the gray stone. She ran her fingers over the letters, trying to imagine the young boy carving his initials here. Arlen’s were probably around someplace. How different their childhoods had been from her own.

She continued around the outcrop more slowly, studying the surfaces of the irregular rock. A movement at her feet made her jump and gasp. A huge grayand-brown-mottled snake slithered away from her. There was no rattle on its tail, she noted with relief. Still, she hadn’t even considered snakes.

“Time to go,” she muttered to herself. She made her way back around the rock and started across the prairie. The sun was high overhead now and she repinned her hat to better protect her face. She hadn’t thought about any possible dangers involved in walking alone. She hadn’t even told anyone where she was going. She tried to walk faster and nearly stumbled into a hole.