A Father's Wrath

"What are you gonna do?" Simon asked, having seen Mitchell approach also.

Buck shrugged. "Go in there and warn them. Maybe they can come up with a convincing story." The look on Simon's face suggested that was impossible, and deep down, Buck had a suspicion that he felt the same. But he still needed to warn them, even if it was just to prepare them for Mitchell's wrath.

Inside the barn he stopped short, unprepared for the sight that beheld him. Ike and Lydia were caught in a passionate embrace that seemed far beyond the level of their relationship as Buck knew it. He watched them for a moment, unable to help it; a wave of jealousy sweeping through him. He wished he could find someone to love him like that.

Buck came back to his senses quickly. Gavin Mitchell was about to come upon them and if he found them like this all hell would break loose. He cleared his throat, and Ike and Lydia suddenly broke apart. Lydia flushed guiltily as Buck fixed them with a knowing look. "Mitchell's comin'," he said succinctly. "And he looks as though he's about to yell at someone."

"Er, thanks, Buck."

"You'd better think of somethin' to tell him, quick. I'd make it good, if I were you." Buck slipped back out of the barn, to try and deflect Mitchell as long as possible.

Buck's task was not going to be easy. Mitchell had been watching Buck and Simon in front of the barn for a while, watching for his daughter. Only there was no sign of her, or of McSwain. As the time passed, Mitchell began to suspect that Wendy's insinuations about Lydia were true. The more he thought about that, the angrier he became; to the point of storming down there and demanding that that half-breed tell him what's going on.

"Where is she?" Mitchell thundered.

"Who, Mr. Mitchell?" Simon asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't try that with me, son, it won't work. Now where is my daughter?" Buck hesitated, wanting to give Lydia as much time as possible. Mitchell grabbed Buck by the shoulders and started shaking him. "You better answer me, boy, if your job means anything to you. Where's Lydia?"

"I'm right here, Papa," her voice came from behind them. They turned to find Lydia standing in the doorway of the barn, her demeanor composed, and holding her left hand in a peculiar fashion.

Mitchell composed himself with an effort. "Where have you been, darlin'? We've been waitin' on you for supper."

"I'm sorry, Papa, but as I was moving Querida's saddle, I dropped it, hurtin' my wrist. Ike here offered to finish rubbin' her down and cleanin' ther tack, but I wouldn't let him. It took me longer than usual. I'm sorry."

Mitchell turned to Ike. "And I suppose you stayed in there to make sure she didn't hurt herself again, like a true gentleman," he said sarcastically. Ike nodded, a little too emphatically. Mitchell eyed him suspiciously, but couldn't find anything to pin his suspicions on, as Lydia was looking at him guilelessly. So he turned to Buck and Simon. "And what were you to doin' when McSwain here was behaving like a gentleman?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Simon put in. "I was talkin' to Buck here about photographin' the Apache. They seem to be afraid of the camera, so I was askin' him if there were any Indian superstitions I should know about. Lydia and McSwain said they's be right out, we didn't know anything was wrong. I guess we just lost track of time."

"Did it occur to you to offer Lydia some assistance in the first place?"

Simon grinned at Mitchell. "I did, sir, but she turned me down. Lydia is very independant."

"I know," Mitchell said dryly. "Okay, show's over. You two," he addressed Buck and Ike. "Head back to the bunkhouse, and get your suppers. Turn in early, you have a lot to do tomorrow."

"We finished the brandin', sir," Buck said.

"Good. Tomorrow you'll have to turn the cattle out again, without Lydia's help."

"Yes, sir."

<<I love you>> Ike signed to Lydia as he and Buck walked away, bidding everybody goodnight. Lydia smiled in response.

Mitchell eyed her suspiciously. "What did he just say to you?"

"He was tellin' me to take it easy and look after my hand." Lydia ad-libbed.

Mitchell looked like he didn't believe her, but he didn't push it. Instead he turned to Simon. "Would you like to stay for supper?"

Simon shook his head. "No, thank you, Mr. Mitchell. I'd best be gettin' home. My parents will be worried about me. See you later."

"You could learn somethin' from him," Mitchell told his daughter after Simon left. "At least he thinks of his parents."

After supper, Lydia was lying on her bed, fiddling with the locket Ike had given her. It was the most beautiful gift she had received in her life—save for the cameo her mother had given her the Christmas before she'd died. Some thought a cameo was not quite the thing to give a four-year-old, but Lydia had always treasured it. She had never been allowed to wear it until recently anyway.

Lydia wished her mother was still alive. She could barely remember her, being only five years old when she died. But she remembered that they had always been close; and Lydia missed that closeness—especially now. Lydia wanted so much to talk about Ike to someone, but there was no one. There was no way she could mention it to her father or Wendy, and there was no one else she could talk to. Not about her feelings for Ike; how she longed for him, how she felt when he kissed her, how she wanted more.

The most important question she wanted to ask was: Is she a bad girl for feeling this way?

After he had eaten his supper, instead of going to bed, Ike went out to sit on the bunkhouse steps. He had a lot to think about, not the least of which was Lydia. She had a right to know what his intentions are. Problem was, he didn't know himself. He loved her, he knew that much. But when he was kissing her in the barn he wanted to take it further, and he was afraid he frightened her with his passion. She was not quite sixteen years old. He knew she wasn't ready for that yet. At least, he thought she wasn't.

Buck came out to find his friend sitting on the steps. "What's up?" he asked.

<<Lydia>> Ike replied. Buck guessed as much. He sat down on the step beside Ike, careful to sit where Ike could see him. This was one conversation that needed to be completely in sign—so there would be no unwelcome listeners. <<Is this about what happened in the barn?>>

Ike looked at Buck sharply. <<What do you know about that? How much did you see?>>

<<Enough>> Buck took a deep breath, trying to find the words to use. <<You do realise she's only young>>

Ike glared irritably. <<Yes, I know that. What do you take me for?>>

<<I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you or Lydia getting hurt>>

<<I know. I'm sorry too>>

Lydia was still lying on her bed when Wendy looked in on her. With interest, Wendy watched as Lydia opened and closed the locket, even holding it to her lips from time to time. Mmmm, Wendy thought, I wonder if this is what she's been so secretive about? "What have you got there,Lydia?"

Lydia started and quickly hid the locket under her pillow. "Nothin," she replied glibly.

"Don't give me that," Wendy darted into the room and slipped her hand under the pillow before Lydia could stop her. "Well well well, what have we here. A present from a secret admirer?" She retrieved the locket from underneath the pillow.

"You give me that!" Lydia exclaimed, making a grab for the locket and missing.

"Now now, let me have a look. I've already told you it's not nice to keep secrets from me." Wendy pried open the locket and saw Ike's picture. "Now isn't this that young McSwain fellow? I always knew there was somethin' goin' on there."

"Give that back to me. It's none of your business!"

"None of my business? It's none of my business when my stepdaughter is actin' like a whore to all the men on the place?"

"I am not!"

"Your father might not want to see it that way."

"Give that back to me!" Lydia lunged for her locket, but Wendy pushed her back so she hit the end of her bed. Lydia cried out in pain, which was enough to alert Mitchell that something was happening.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked standing in the doorway of his daughter's room.

"See what your darlin' daughter's been up to?" Wendy asked, handing Mitchell the open locket.

Mitchell looked at the locket, then turned to his daughter, enraged. "What's goin' on between you and this McSwain?"

"Nothin', Papa."

"Don't lie to me. You wouldn't have this picture if there was nothin' goin' on. Did he touch you? Have you kissed? Did you go to bed with him?"

"No Papa!" Lydia was shooked that he would suggest such a thing, although she had thought about it since the kiss that afternoon. "What do you take me for?"

"I don't know anymore. I thought you were a good girl, but now I find this. What do you expect me to believe? How far have you gone with this boy?"

"It's not like that, Papa. I love Ike and he loves me!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Nothing Lydia could say after that convinced Mitchell that Ike did not touch her, and the more she tried, the angrier Mitchell got. Finally, with help from Wendy, Mitchell was convinced that Lydia had been acting like a whore. He proceeded to beat her, yelling "No daughter of mine is gonna marry no ranch hand!"

Mitchell had beaten Lydia before. It was his preferred method of punishment and ensuing that Lydia obeyed him. It usually worked, too, as Lydia was too afraid of a beating to disobey her father. But this beating was by far the worst Lydia had ever received. It was almost as if he was trying to remove the shame of what he thought Lydia had done. When he was finished, Lydia was black and blue and almost too stiff to move.

"I think Wendy's right. I think it's time you went to a good school."