A Father's Wrath

Ike McSwain smiled as he woke up in the bunk house. Life was great. It didn't matter that the other men who worked for Gavin Mitchell distrusted him and treated him with scorn. It didn't even matter that it was hard for him to communicate with anyone (on account of his muteness). Buck and Lydia understood what he was saying, and they were the only ones that mattered.

Oh Lydia. Ike thought to himself. Lydia Mitchell was the daughter of the man Ike worked for. She was young, barely sixteen years old, but Ike loved her. He loved her with every fibre of his being. Lydia had never teased him on account of his baldness and muteness; she knew how these things could happen. She always treated him as if he were perfectly normal, even to the point of defending him to her father, and he was not the sort of man to cross. Gavin Mitchell was one of the most powerful cattle ranchers in the area and very opinionated, not to mention stubborn.

"Thinkin' of Lydia again, huh?" A deep voice asked from across the room.

Ike started and looked wildly around the room. The other ranch hands weren't supposed to know about his relationship with the boss' daughter, they might tell Mitchell, and there was no telling what he would do then.

"Relax, Ike, I'm the only one in here. Speakin' of which, we'd better get a move on or we'll both be fired, and you won't be able to see Lydia at all, then." Buck Cross picked up his best friend's shirt and threw it at him. The shirt landed in Ike's face; he smirked at his friend and proceeded to get dressed. Buck was right—there was no point in getting fired. They had a lot of work to do that day.

Lydia Mitchell smiled as she lay in her bed. The morning sunlight filtered through her curtains and gently fell on her face. Her life was going great, which was remarkable considering she was living with a strict father and a witch of a stepmother. But even they could not dampen the mood she was in—she was in love! She was in love with a man whom her father would most definitely not approve of, but she didn't care.

Lydia got up, put on her robe and went over to sit in front of her bureau to brush out her long, reddish-brown hair. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, she paused to look. Her blue-green eyes were wide and sparkling with happiness.

"What devilish thoughts are going through your mind now?" A cheerful, condescending voice asked from the doorway.

Lydia started and dropped her hairbrush. Turning, she saw her stepmother, Wendy Marcus Mitchell leaning against the door jamb. Her black hair shone and her dark eyes glittered dangerously. Lydia always felt that Wendy was up to something, that she had an ulterior motive in marrying Gavin Mitchell. Truth be told, Lydia sometimes felt that her father only married Wendy to provide a woman's influence on Lydia's somewhat tomboyish life ever since her mother had died. It was no secret that Wendy and Lydia did not get along, and it vexed Lydia that her father practically always took Wendy's side in a disagreement.

"Is there anything you want?" Lydia asked her stepmother testily, turning back to the mirror.

"No, I was just wonderin' why you were starin' at yourself like that. You looked like someone had just told you a big, delicious secret."

"You think I'd tell you?"

"Now, now, your father told you to be nice to me. What are your plans for the day?"

"I'm gonna help Ike and Buck with the brandin'. With Collins and Dietrich out of town, they're a little short-handed."

"You know how your father feels about you doing that."

"It was Papa who was complainin' that we were short-handed. There's nothin' to worry about, I've helped out before."

"Yes, well you always seem to be 'helpin' out', especially when it involves the half-breed and his friend. Is there something goin' on that I should know about?"

Lydia flushed guiltily, praying that her stepmother could not see. "No, of course not. They just need a hand, that's all. Most of the men are too busy to help them."

"They shouldn't need any help."

"They do the work of three or four men. They're good workers. They just need a little help, now amd then."

Wendy sighed. "I'm not gonna argue. Just hurry up and come down for breakfast. Your father wants to talk to you."

"Yes ma'am." Lydia breathed a sigh of relief when Wendy moved on. That was too close. If Wendy was to suspect that she and Ike... Lydia didn't even want to think about what might happen. She vowed to heself to be more careful, as she quickly dressed. There was no point in keeping her father waiting. She needed to stay on his good side.

Wendy had begun to suspect that there was something going on between Lydia and young Ike McSwain. It was nothing tangible, nothing that she could put her finger on, but there was a certain light that would come into Lydia's eyes whenever Ike was mentioned, and as Wendy had noted, Lydia always seemed eager to help out whenever Ike and Buck Cross needed it. And Wendy intended to do something about it.

"You seem far away, dear," Gavin Mitchell said, as he kissed his wife on the cheek. "Is Lydia comin' down?"

"Yes, in fact, that's what I was thinkin' about."

"What about my daughter?"

"Do you think that she is gettin' a little too close to some of the men?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the two young fellows, the half-breed and his friend. She seems to be hangin' around them a lot lately."

"Yes, I have noticed that. I don't like it, but she says she's helpin' out. And like it or not, we need the extra help. If I had a choice, I'd fire the half-breed and his friend, but I can't afford to. Oh, well, as soon as I get some extra men..." He trailed off as Lydia approached them. "Hello darlin', we were just talkin' about you. "

"Nothin' bad I hope," Lydia said, suppressing a shudder. She could imagine what Wendy had been saying.

"Oh, no, we were just wonderin' if you'd like to come on a picnic. It'll be just the three of us." Mitchell looked his daughter up and down, noticing that she was wearing her "work clothes" and frowned with disapproval. "You'd have to go up and change first, though," was all he said though.

"Oh, this," she said, a little sheepishly. "I was just gonna help with the brandin', that's all. You mentioned last night that you were short-handed with Collins and Dietrich away, and since I don't have much else to do..."

"I don't think that brandin' is really the sort of work that a young lady should concern herself with. Why don't you come on the picnic with us instead. I'm sure that McSwain and the half-breed can handle it on their own."

"His name is Buck, Papa, and you said yourself that there was more work then two people can really handle, and you couldn't spare any of the other men. Besides, I'm sure you and Wendy would much rather enjoy bein' by yourselves than havin' me tag along." Lydia grinned impishly, hoping that this ploy would work.

"Don't be cheeky, young lady. We've hardly spent any time together as a family. We really should do this more often."

Lydia kissed her father's cheek. "Another time, Papa, I promise. Besides, Simon said he might come over later. I really should be here if he does. He knows that I'm helpin' out." Lydia knew this would get Mitchell's attention. He liked Simon Walters, the eldest son of their nearest neighbours, and he often subtly hinted that Simon should court Lydia. But Simon only liked Lydia as a friend, he knew that she loved Ike, and he often helped her sneak away so she could be with him.

As Lydia thought, Mitchell dropped the subject. He was still suspicious, but he couldn't object to Lydia spending time with Simon Walters, not without raising her suspicions. So he reduced their conversation to the usual breakfast small-talk and told her not to work too hard when she excused herself. However, something in Lydia's attitude made him think that she was up to something, and he asked Wendy what she thought.

"If you ask me, I think she's always up to somethin'. But I found her starin' at herself in the mirror this mornin', lookin' as if somebody had handed her the world. And I don't think that her attitude has anythin' to do with Simon Walters. I'd keep a close eye on her."

"Instead of goin' on the picnic?"

"After the picnic."

Lydia and Ike could not stop flirting, even as they worked. Buck found it a little embarrassing, but he didn't want to say anything, as he had never seen Ike happier. It wasn't as if they didn't get any work done, they did. Watching them work together filled Buck with envy, as he wondered if he would ever find a girl who could love him as Lydia loved Ike.

But there was no time to dwell on thoughts like that. The first thing they had too do was round up all the unbranded cattle as somebody had accidentally left the gate open and they all got out. This was more of an annoyance than anything—they liked riding and usually enjoyed any excuse to. Ike and Lydia were exceptionally good riders. They both knew how to move with the horse, gracefully and efficiently. Buck liked to watch them, and he found himself watching Lydia more often then not, admiring her, thinking about her. Stop it, Running Buck, he told himself, reverting to his old Kiowa name. She's Ike's girlfriend, not yours. Watching her work that day, Buck realised that he had fallen for Lydia—his best friend's girlfriend.