Chapter 1

"Noah, your mashed potato mountain is real nice, but you need to eat your food, not play with it." Buck admonished his six-year-old son.

"Sorry, Pa."

Concerned, Buck looked closely at his abnormally morose son. "Something wrong?" Doleful brown eyes stared sullenly back at him.

"No."

"Yes, there is. What is it?"

"Nothin’."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Okay, then look me in the eye and tell me everything’s okay." To his utter surprise, the boy burst into tears. He hadn’t cried since he was a baby. He had a naturally buoyant personality, and reveled in silliness. He was generally a joy to be around. Buck knew for a fact that he was not biased in his opinion. Even those in town who were appalled by the child’s blood, commented about what a sweet natured and witty boy he was. Buck lurched from his chair, and stumbled to his son’s side. "Noah, tell me what’s wrong."

"Are you going to start drinking and beat me?"

"What?!" Buck croaked.

"Some boys at school, they said that you had to start drinkin’ and hittin’ me or you wouldn’t be a good Indian." The boy wailed. Buck felt his heart drop to his stomach. He felt sure that there was a cold, jagged rock trapped in his gut, trying diligently to keep beating despite being cracked in two. Falling to his knees on the floor, he pulled his son from his chair, and cradled him in his lap. "Noah, what those boy’s said was wrong. They know nothing of what it is to be a good Indian. Son, I would never hit you, you should know that. And I don’t drink at all, so you don’t have to worry about that either. Did you tell your teacher what those boys said?" He nodded silently, his big black eyes riveted on Buck.

"And?" Buck prodded.

"She laughed." Buck was speechless. He felt sick. This couldn’t be true.

"She laughed? Are you sure?"

"I’m not stupid, Pa. She may say I am, but I’m not. She laughed, and said it was true. She said there had never been an Indian born that had a use besides drinking." Buck tried to keep the strain out of his voice.

"She says you’re stupid?"

"Yeah, but I know she’s wrong about that because Grandpa Teaspoon says I’m the smartest boy ever. Grandpa Teaspoon’s usually right… about most things, anyway. Even though he says that if you swallow a watermelon seed you’ll grow a watermelon in your belly. I don’t think I believe that, unless that’s what happened to Mrs. MacGregors." He added absently.

"Your teacher is wrong. Grandpa Teaspoon will agree that she’s likely wrong about everything. I’m going to school tomorrow to have a chat with that teacher. You get tomorrow off. You can sleep late, and when you wake up Rachel will be here. Won’t that be great?"

"You mean I don’t have to go to school tomorrow?" The boy jumped from Buck’s lap, and let out a whoop of joy. "Rachel makes the best flapjacks I ever tasted! O’course yours are the only other ones I’ve ever tasted, and they taste like horse biscuits. I can't wait!"

"Will you finish your dinner now?" Buck’s son grinned back at him sheepishly.

"Yes, Sir." The only problem was, now Buck couldn’t finish his.

Long determined strides carried Buck to the door of the schoolhouse. The grounds were scattered with chattering children playing various games and munching on their lunches. Buck thought of his son at home with Rachel eating chocolate cake for lunch. He rolled his eyes at himself, and his weakness. He could deny that boy nothing, especially after he had been made aware of the misery Noah faced daily at school. Buck scanned the area for a glimpse of the teacher, but found nothing. He was a little unsettled by that. When Rachel had been the town’s teacher she had never left the children unattended. They were constantly under the protection of her diligently watchful eyes. When she married Teaspoon several years before she had stayed on as the town’s sole teacher, but when Teaspoon had been elected Mayor of Rock Creek she insisted that it wasn’t right for her to keep working. That was when Miss Patterson had been hired. Buck found himself, for the first time, lamenting Teaspoon’s mayoral status. With Rachel as the teacher, he never would have had to worry about any student being mistreated.

He turned to step through the threshold, and was met with a stern glare. Though the glare and its wearer were across the room behind a desk, Buck was unprepared by the blatant contempt of the scowl’s mistress. Undaunted, Buck straightened his shoulders, set his jaw, and stalked purposefully toward the doggedly unfriendly face. "Miss Patterson, I’d like to have a word with you." Buck kept his voice cool, though he had no idea how he kept from screaming at the awful creature.

He took a good look at the woman who had apparently enjoyed tormenting his son. From what he could see of her from behind the desk, she was trim. She wore a cheerful yellow blouse that was buttoned up to her chin, and her face, discounting her obvious scorn, was smooth skinned and pleasantly formed. She glowered at him through deep-set blue eyes. Her hateful visage was framed by blonde hair that was pulled into a very neat, but severe bun. Under different circumstances, Buck would have found her very attractive. Now though, his mind started to wander in naughty directions. He began to picture that lovely face covered in honey and the multitude of ravenous ants that would be sure to surge in great numbers to gobble up the sweet glaze as well as the skin beneath it. That was an awful thing to think, Buck silently admonished himself. He pulled himself from his highly creative reverie in time to wish he had not heard her response.

"Apparently you don’t comprehend the virtue of appointments, Mr. Cross." She spoke his name like she had something particularly foul in her mouth. "I don’t have time to waste on you or your bastard boy." She finished; her words clear and clipped. As Buck tried desperately to process what she had said, Miss Patterson made a shooing motion with her hands. She looked as if she were trying to run an errant mutt off of her porch. "Now leave. I don’t want you fowling up my school with your presence, heathen." The mundane task of closing her grade book, and shuffling some papers into a neat stack took precedence over looking Buck in the eye as she insulted him.

Instead of acknowledging her statement, Buck closed the distance between himself and the desk. Miss Patterson shrieked, threw herself from her seat, and plastered herself against the wall as if she were hoping it would absorb her. Buck reached toward the grade book that sat upon the desk. While Buck examined the contents of the book, Miss Patterson slithered down the wall, and scooted into a corner. She was screaming frantically. "You keep your filthy hands off of me! You stay away, you…you monster! You’re a madman, you’ll pay for what you did to me! You won’t hurt me again!" Her raving crescendo drew the children in from the playground. They rallied around their hysterical teacher. Buck was completely oblivious to the maddening vortex of activity. He was riveted on the grade book. His face was crimson with fury. His hands were shaking with suppressed rage, when a tentative tug on his arm dragged him from his anger inspired stupor. "Uncle Buck. Is there somethin’ wrong?" The angelic face of Theresa McLoud peered up at him. "You look funny. Are you sick? One of the older boys, from my grade, went to go get Kid. He’ll make it better. Whatever it is. Maybe you should drink some warm milk. That’s what Louise always gives me when I’m feelin’ poorly. I think you should sit down." Buck stared blankly at her. She was still so innocent and sheltered for a thirteen-year-old. Lou made sure that after their rocky beginning in an orphanage, her siblings had everything and more than they needed. He took her shoulder. "Theresa, I’m fine, but I need you to help me out. Do you think you could get your classmates out of here? It seems your teacher is very upset." The girl nodded solemnly, and proved mightily to be a blood relative of Lou’s. Her tiny frame stiffened up, and a huge voice emerged from her sweet little mouth. "Everyone out of here!" She hollered. Yes, she was definitely Lou’s sister! "Now can you do me another favor?" She rolled her eyes at him. "Well, of course, Uncle Buck." He tousled her shiny auburn hair. "Stay with Miss Patterson. If you can, try to calm her down." With that, Buck left the building, and went to meet up with Kid who was surely rushing frantically to get to the emergency. His assumptions proved correct when Buck almost collided with a terrified looking Kid. "Buck! What are you doing here? What’s going on?"

"Don’t worry, all of the children are fine. The teacher is…well…see for yourself." Kid stepped up to the door and peeked in. Miss Patterson was rocking back and forth muttering crazily to no one. Theresa was curled up on the floor with her doing her best to give her comfort, but the woman kept going on about the "way that heathen hurt her." Kid backed up, and looked curiously at the man who had become his closest friend. "What happened?"

"I came to have a chat with Miss Patterson about something that happened to Noah in school. As soon as I spoke to her she went from hostile to hysterical. It was wild Kid, one minute she’s callin’ me a heathen, the next minute she’s screaming about me not touching her again. I never touched her to begin with."

"Why do you look so mad?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know you Buck. You have a soft spot when it comes to women, and when they are upset, for whatever reason; you are always the first to offer comfort. But you aren’t the one in there trying to help her, and you look about ready to throw that knife of yours into something." Buck smiled humorlessly at his friend. "You know me too well, my friend." He took a deep breath, and thrust the grade book he still held into Kid’s hands. Kid stared at the book in his hands. "I don’t understand."

"Look at it." Kid was getting exasperated. "Well, Buck I am looking at it!"

"Open it, Kid." Buck grated, equally exasperated. Kid opened the book, and stared vacantly at it for a moment. Then comprehension bloomed on his face. "Oh, my…how could she? Let’s find Teaspoon."
 

Chapter 2

Having taken Miss Patterson to Dr. Ingram, Kid, Buck, and Teaspoon sat in the Mayor’s office. Upon looking at the book, Teaspoon had gone a waxy shade of gray. "I can’t believe this. I hired that woman myself. She seemed so bright and cheerful. I don’t understand how this could have happened." Buck sat facing Teaspoon’s desk, completely silent. His face was awash in the anguish that only a parent whose child had been wronged could suffer. Teaspoon knew that pain. He felt it anytime anyone hurt one of "his boys." He looked back down at the grade book. It sickened him. The absolute hatred blaring out from its pages made him want to take the words he had read, and purge them physically from his body. But he was more worried about Buck than he was his lunch, or loss there of. There were no grades across from the name, Noah Cross. There were only entries, like one would keep in a diary:

November 4th: Pinched him today. He didn’t cry. Maybe tomorrow.

November 8th: Knocked his lunch off his desk. He just shrugged. Dirty Indian

November 11th: A group of boys were making fun of him. He didn’t even know what filth he comes from. Soon the beatings will start. Soon that no good Daddy of his will be too drunk to work, or in jail. Good riddance.

Teaspoon could not bring himself to read further. The entries were getting more involved as well as twisted. He would have given one of his legs to keep Buck from seeing this trash. He was at a loss. There was no funny anecdote or ridiculous wives tale to recount that would take away some of his hurt. Teaspoon for the first time in his long life, was dumb struck. Abruptly, Buck stood. "I need to be with my boy." With that he clomped, heavy footed through the door. Kid and Teaspoon were left to try to make sense of what exactly had happened to make Miss Patterson behave the way she had.

Buck strode into the Hunter home without knocking. He didn’t notice the smile of welcome that Rachel beamed at him. He didn’t notice his interruption of Noah and Rachel’s checkers game. He didn’t notice the chocolate cake smeared all over his son’s face as he hefted him from his play on the floor into his arms. He held him there in a too tight embrace forged from pain, desperation, and absolute impotence to deny his child the world’s never ending well of hate. He finally looked at a stricken Rachel. She had never seen Buck like this. He was always so easy going and quiet. Now he looked like some lost, wounded creature. She hesitated. "B-Buck, what’s wrong?" He turned his miserable eyes on her. "I promised I’d protect him, Rachel. I promised. I was wrong. I was so wrong." Noah, being to young to sense the strained air about the room, began to squirm. "Pa? Pa. You’re hurtin’ me! I can’t breathe, Pa."

"How could he do this to me?" Miss Patterson wailed. "I never did anything to deserve this. Oh, he hurt me! He hurt me so bad! It’s not right to have to hurt like this!" The doctor patted her arm. She had yet to give him any coherent information. It was no wonder. She had been through something awful. During his examination of her, he’d been shocked to find scar atop of scar marring her flesh. She seemed to want to blame her woes on Buck Cross, but he knew Buck. He’d known him well for six years, ever since he stared bringing his boy in for his regular examinations as well as all the regular childhood illnesses and accidents. Buck Cross was no abuser; he was a kind hearted, gentle soul. He patted Miss Patterson’s hand. "Robin, Robin, can you tell me just what happened to you?" She nodded, staring at nothing. "He hurt me. He hurt me, and he killed my baby. He’s a drunk. A nasty drunk." If there had been any doubt in his mind about Buck’s innocence in the situation, it was snubbed out with her last statement. He’d had many dinners in the Cross household, and there had never been any alcohol to be found. He had even asked Buck about it once. Ever the tranquil man; Buck’s reply was likewise serene. "I don’t touch alcohol. It’s poison to the sprit as well as the body." He had answered simply. "Rachel’s teacake cookies are my vice of choice." He’d added with a lazy grin. Doctor Ingram, or Doctor Bob, as Noah called him, could understand Buck’s weakness. Rachel’s cookies were sheer bliss! Bob shifted his thoughts to less sweet endeavors. He needed to figure Miss Patterson’s problems out. Her outrageous claims were likely to spread with a fury and gravity all their own in the tiny town of Rock Creek. Though her claims lacked merit, and though the townspeople were generally tolerant of their half-breed resident, Robin’s ramblings could mean a great deal of trouble for Buck.

"But Pa, I don’t understand why!"

"Noah, we’ve already been through this. I’m going to start schooling you at home. On days I can't I’ll have Rachel come do it. You liked it when she was your teacher before didn’t you?"

"Well, yeah, but why?"

"Because!"

"Because why, Pa?"

"Because I said so that’s why!"

"But Pa, why don’t you want me to play with the other kids? Am I in trouble? What did I do? I’ll fix it, I promise." Buck could not remember any time in his life when he had been so miserable. He wanted nothing more than to protect his son, but Noah felt like he was being punished. Buck did not have a clue as to what to do. Heaving a sigh, he took Noah into his lap. "Son, I know things at school have been hard for you since Rachel quit teaching you. I only want you to be happy."

"If you only want me to be happy, then why can’t I have chocolate cake for lunch every day?"

Sighing heavily again, Buck returned. "I want you to be healthy and happy." Buck paused, weighing his son’s mood. He stared quietly into bright black eyes that could so easily have been Red Bear’s. He was so much a part of his child’s flesh. Buck could only feel he was failing his brother with recent events ever present in his mind. "Why didn’t you tell me before that your teacher was mean to you?"

"I don’t know." Silence hung fixedly in the air.

"From now on, if you have any problems I want you to come to me. You can tell me anything. You know that right?"

"Well of course I do, but when people are mean to you, you take care of it yourself. You’re…uh…"

"Independent?"

"Yeah! That’s it, independent. I wanna be like you, Pa."

"I love you, son." Buck’s smile was pained, but he tried resolutely to pull it firm. He ran his knuckles over Noah’s baby-smooth brown cheek. So deeply, he loved his son. So horribly he had failed him.

"I love you too, Pa." The strained silence had reappeared. Noah was staring a Buck with a perplexed expression residing on his young face.

"Pa?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don’t I have a Mama?" Great, Buck thought, here he goes with another difficult question.

"You don’t have a Mama because your Mama loved you so much that she died to bring you into the world."

"Well I know that!" Noah rolled his big eyes, staring at Buck through a short fringe of black lashes. "What I mean is why don’t you have a Mama for me?"

"You mean, why don’t I have a wife."

"Yup."

"Because I’m too hard to live with."

"No you’re not!"

"Well, that’s what my boy keeps telling me."

"Try again, Pa."

"Uh, because I snore. Women hate that." Noah giggled.

"I can believe that. One night I thought somebody was trying to saw down the house. I was about to go get you when I realized that it was you!"

"So, are you okay with being schooled here?" Buck queried tentatively.

"Do I get Chocolate cake for lunch?"

"No."

"Breakfast?" Noah’s eyebrows were raised comically in a hopeful appeal to Buck’s funny bone.

"No."

"Supper?"

"Nope."

"Well, I guess it’ll be all right. I can still have friends over to play right?"

"Of course."

"Pa?"

"What?"

"Are you happy?" Dumbfounded, Buck had no idea how to answer that question. He adored his son, and they had a good life together. Unfortunately, Buck was lonely. He wasn’t lonely for friendship or family, but for the love and companionship that only a woman could offer. It had been so long since Buck had even held a woman that he scarcely remembered what it was like. He’d spent the last six years of his life focusing on Noah’s safety, Noah’s joy, Noah’s well being, that he had not managed to procure those things for himself. He was tormented with the knowledge that his son still was emotionally wounded from pains other people had brought him, and he was sitting there wishing for a woman. Forcefully shoving his selfishness aside, he hugged his son. "Yes. You make me happy." Noah was not quite convinced, but he hopped out of his chair relatively appeased. "What’s for supper, Pa?"

"Chocolate cake."
 

Chapter 3

Kayla Lambert was trembling. She fidgeted with the hem of her bodice, then fisted her small hands in her lap. She really needed to stop fretting so. She wondered briefly if she might be going completely insane. What had she been thinking when she abandoned her comfortable if not boring existence with her parents in New York, to come half way across the country for a job she didn’t even have yet. She had been living a good life with her family when she read an advertisement for a schoolteacher in the west. A crazy urge seized her, and she was packing to leave almost immediately. Her parents had thought her mad. They had high hopes that the young man that had been doing his very best to woo her into marriage would succeed. They saw only the impressive parts of Ben Casey. They saw a handsome, wealthy, businessman who was well on his way to being the most important man in town. Kayla explained that he was condescending, short tempered, bossy, and most importantly, she didn’t love him. She didn’t bother to tell them that he had a penchant for yelling at her for what he called her "erratic female behavior", or about a horrific incident that had prompted her to be willing to move across country." Kayla understood that she had a habit of firing out biting acerbic comments when she felt put upon, or threatened, but what good was a sharp tongue if you couldn’t wield it freely? After all, she only set her verbal weapons loose on those that deserved it, like Ben often did. She’d tried to explain to him that her sharp wit was her only line of defense, but he blamed it on her monthly.

Understanding of Kayla’s independent streak, and wanting nothing more than their only child’s happiness, her parents wished her well. Soon she was off on a wild impetuous adventure. It wasn’t that she wished to be separated from her parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t bring her joy. It wasn’t even that she just wanted to get away from Ben, who had been livid when told of her decision. It was that she longed to be self-supporting, completely independent. It was that she wanted to know exactly what she was made of. Only then could she find someone to love, to share her life with, secure in the knowledge that she was not seeking a financial crutch as so many women did. She wanted a life partner, not a foster father, big brother, boss or some other authority figure. So, she found herself sitting in the office of a man that held her new and independent future in the palm of his hand. "Well, Mr. Hunter, to answer your question, I don’t mind teaching children of different races. Frankly I don’t care if they’re chartreuse with pink polka-dots as long as they are well behaved, courteous, and willing to learn what I have to teach."

"Well, I’m glad to hear that Miss Lambert. We had some trouble with the last teacher, and it caused some real heartbreak in some people very near and dear to me." Kayla had no idea how to respond to that. "I see." She said with a polite nod.

"My wife used to be the teacher, but she quit when I got to be Mayor. Then when the last teacher…er…uh… When the last teacher was relieved of her duties, my Rachel went back to work until we could find a new teacher. At first I was thrilled because she loves those children, then I decided that maybe she liked those kids better than me. Well, what I’m trying to tell you Miss Lambert is that you got the job." Kayla involuntarily squealed. Then a musical peal of laughter erupted from her throat. "I’m sorry, I’m just so thrilled."

"Well, I’m glad you’re happy to be here." She nodded heartily.

"I’m staying at the boarding house until I can come up with other arrangements. If you need me for anything I’ll be there. Other than that all I need to know is, when do I start?" Teaspoon grinned. "Tomorrow." Kayla was elated. "That sounds great."

Kid sat staring at nothing. He was seated slumped over Teaspoon’s former desk in the Marshal’s office. The town was relatively quiet so he was using the extra time to sulk. Miss Patterson had disappeared well over a month ago from Doctor Ingram’s office without leaving so much as a trace. As to how or where to find her, Kid was at a loss. He and Buck had tried to track her, but it was as if she had vanished into the desert’s arid winds. Buck could track an eagle on a stormy day. The fact that Miss Patterson disappeared without leaving any proof of her departure tangible enough for a tracker as experienced as Buck to find, left Kid feeling down right spooky. He felt like he was letting Buck down by not figuring out the mystery behind what had happened with the Patterson woman. He wanted closure for his own peace of mind. He could only imagine what Buck needed for the same peace.

Buck was exhausted. For the last month he’d tutored his son by day, and worked with his animals by night. He had initially expected to get Rachel’s help a few days a week with the schooling, so he could rest, but he had not thought about the school going without a teacher. For the sake of his son, he went without sleep and food. On the rare occasions that he was able to lie down for a while, he couldn’t sleep for wondering what became of Miss Patterson. He acknowledged that there were parts of him that wanted revenge for her treatment of his son. Though he could not ignore the parts of his naturally sympathetic personality that felt sorry for the woman who had suffered at the hands of some monster. Doctor Bob had gone into great detail recounting the specifics to Teaspoon, Kid, and himself about how horribly marred her flesh was. Buck was just so tired that he couldn’t put anything into perspective. He edged the buckboard a bit closer to town, and made a mental list of supplies he needed while Noah prattled on energetically about the foal that was expected at any moment by his horse, Sugar. Buck wondered absently if he ate as much chocolate as his son did that maybe he would have the same unending bank of energy.

Having stowed her belongings in her boarding house room, Kayla wandered out to take a look at her new home, Rock Creek. She was getting more than a little bored wandering about alone in a strange place. With every step she took, an inescapable loneliness was wrapping her in its prickly embrace. She decided that she needed a shot of sugar to jolt her out of her funk. She chided herself. She should be thrilled. Many women not unlike her were desperate for the personal freedom and good fortune that she enjoyed on a daily basis. She had a new job, and a new beginning with endless possibilities. She headed for the sign that read General Store.

Kayla had just purchased a bag of candy sours, and some lovely pink stationery to write her parents on later in the evening, when she heard a distant, "Noah, don’t run!" Almost immediately subsequent to hearing that rich deep voice, she felt a solid thump against her side. "Oof!" A small voice rang out. She bent down to see large dark eyes peeping at her through a curtain of thick, black, disheveled hair. Simultaneously scrambling upright, looking up at her and shoving a hand into his hair, the child cleared the wild mass of shiny tresses from his young face. A coquettish grin grew across his childish brown features. Without the curtain of hair obscuring her view, Kayla decided he was a boy of about five or six. She also surmised that he was the Noah who wasn’t supposed to run. She smiled back as she visually checked the child for injuries. "How nice to run into you," she winked. The boy’s smile grew to a blindingly irresistible intensity. "You’re pretty," he blurted just as his father entered the store. "Noah! You need to apologize to the nice lady. Son, I told you not to run. But you plowed down half the town just to get to the candy…"

Buck’s words left him as he caught site of the specific part of town his son had plowed over. She was exquisite. She was grinning ear to ear at Noah, her smile so sincere it almost wrung tears from his eyes. For a moment he could only stare at her mouth. It was impossibly full, deeply pink, and looked more delicious than any one of Rachel’s tea cake cookies ever was. Hers were lips that lead a man’s thoughts straight down a strictly carnal path. He tore his gaze from her mouth, trying to halt the progression of his thoughts into the gutter, only to see sweetly dimpled cheeks that were tinged a lovely pink. Finally he met a pair of extraordinary slate colored eyes. They were wide, wild, exotic, and completely entrancing. He watched as she nervously tucked a strand of coal black hair behind her ear. With a start, Buck realized he’d been staring quite obviously at the poor girl. He probably looked like he was about to devour her whole. "Uhm, Hi." Buck said lamely. That is when she turned her smile on him. It was like a wonderful and delightful weapon. She could strike any man instantly dumb with that smile. She offered her hand to him. "Hello, my name is Kayla Lambert. I’m the new schoolteacher. So that’s Miss Lambert to you, sweetie." She playfully tapped Noah on the nose. "This handsome creature," she nodded at Noah. "I assume is yours?" Buck was grasping frantically for something to say.

"Um, yeah, This is Noah." Noah took this opportunity to lift his little arms for a hug. He was not a hand shaking kind of boy. Buck felt acutely, the embarrassment of his son’s expectation to be instantly loved by all who met him. While he could not understand those who didn’t automatically adore his endlessly amusing child, he understood that there were those who hated him on site just for the color of his skin. Kayla just giggled, sank down onto one knee to hug him, and even planted a little kiss on the boy’s cheek. Buck had never been jealous of his son for anything until that moment. He would have given anything to be in his boy’s shoes while she lavished him with
attention. She stood, and looked to Buck. "And you are?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Buck Cross, Ma’am."

"It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Cross."

"It’s Buck. Call me Buck."

"All right then, call me Kayla or Kay whichever you prefer. Will Noah be in my class tomorrow?" Having been caught off guard by her question, Buck floundered. "Uh…well…I uh…ahem, Noah? What do you think?"

"Miss Lambert’s pretty, Pa. Can she be my new mommy?" Mortified, Buck could only stand there with his mouth hanging open. He knew his face had to be ten different shades of red. "Noah!" He bellowed.

"Well, can she?" The boy insisted.

"You only just met me, Noah. I might be mean, or messy, or a bad cook. You might want to hold off on inviting me into the family so quickly." She ruffled his hair. She didn’t seem the least bit nonplused to have been put in such an awkward position. She had an easy grace that sent Buck’s senses reeling. It was like his body was waking up after a long and incredibly deep sleep. His entire being was vibrating with an enticing energy that he had almost forgotten over the long years of being nothing but, "Pa." He was fighting the urge to say, "Okay, let’s take her home son." But he just stood there, not sure of exactly what to do to either reclaim his dignity or at least escape with a little of it intact. He settled for, "I’m so sorry."

"Oh, don’t be. I just got here yesterday, and now Noah here has made me feel very welcome." She hugged the boy to her hip. "And to think I was feeling lonely until we ran into one another." Noah clung to Kayla’s skirts, and piped up, "I’ll be there tomorrow!"

"Well I’m so happy to hear that, but I’m curious as to why there is a question about you going to school. At first I asked because I wasn’t sure whether or not you were old enough to attend school, but if you are, have you not been attending regularly?" Kayla asked, disapproval faintly coloring her words.

Noah adored Kayla from the second that she had neglected to yell at him for bumping into her. Now he wanted to promise her he would be her best behaved, hardest working pupil forever because she was doing what was rarely done with him. She was looking him directly in the eye, asking him the questions. Most adults just talked to his Pa, and acted as if he were not even there. "Well, you see, my last teacher was real mean to me, and she went crazy. So, my Pa’s been teachin’ me at home. He’s real smart, but he’s gettin’ tired. And big people are just like us kids when they get tired. They get cranky too."

"What do you mean?" Kayla asked. Helplessly, Buck just watched in horror as the conversation went on without him. He had no idea what his son was going to say next. Buck was going to aim high, and hope it wasn’t something profoundly humiliating.

"Well he’ll start tappin’ his foot, like there’s music, but there’s not. And he’ll call me son. He only calls me that when he’s mad. Usually he calls me Noah, because that’s my name and all."

"I do not just call you son when I’m irritated." Buck stated matter-of-factly.

"You do too!"

"Son-"

"See!" Noah started jumping up and down pointing at Buck. Father and son were interrupted by Kayla’s peal of laughter. "Children, please play nice!" She managed to declare between gales of laughter. "Oh, thank you both so much! I was feeling so down when I came in here, and now I just can’t stop laughing!" Kayla’s gaiety proved contagious when Buck burst into fits of laughter.

Noah, who hadn’t seen his father look so happy in so long, just ran to him, hugging his legs. "Can she come to dinner, Pa?" Buck was a little taken aback by his son’s odd behavior, as well as Noah’s obvious homage to a person he’d known for only a matter of moments. The latter, he supposed, wasn’t so odd. After all, this particular person was magnetic somehow. "Noah, Miss Lambert probably has a husband and a family of her own to get back to." Even as he spoke the words, Buck hoped they were false.

"Well that’s silly Pa, if she had a husband, she wouldn’t be Miss Lambert would she?" Noah shot his father a look that made him feel like he should be wearing a dunce cap. "Well, Noah, that’s a very astute observation." Kayla noted with some surprise. Kayla was looking forward to having such a bright pupil. She turned to Buck. "It’s Kayla, and I have no husband. In fact all of my family is in New York."

"See Pa! She’ll starve if we don’t feed her. She’s all ready kinda skinny as it is."

"Noah, that’s rude!" Buck stated, wide-eyed. "I’m sorry, he’s not usually so…"

"So what? So very little boy?" Kayla giggled. "You needn’t worry. I’m not easily offended. I’ve worked with children for years, and they have a habit of saying whatever it is that pops into their heads. But the thing is, that what gets blurted out like that is usually straight from the heart. Children don’t have that block in their minds as to what is civil to say, and what is or isn’t
appropriate. I find their honesty refreshing."

"I find it frightening." Buck laughed. "I never know what he’s going to say. Y’know, like asking a woman he’s just met if she’ll be his new mommy."

"Actually, he asked you if I could be his new mommy." She smiled sweetly at him. "Well, in that case," Buck kidded, "let’s go home honey!" Playing along, Kayla said, "Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t get married today. I have plans, you see, an adorable future student of mine wants me for dinner. I’m just waiting for his father to consent, but tomorrow’s free!" Buck raised a thin black brow. Her words, the "have me for dinner," specifically, had his mind delving into all sorts of interesting mental pictures. He made an effort to stop the effect her choice of phrase was having on him. The realization that this lovely woman was speaking in such a manner, even in jest, with a social misfit hit him directly in the heart. Most of the women in this town would cross to the other side of the street just so that they didn’t have to be too near him, but Kayla was joking about being his wife. She didn’t seem to mind his close proximity either. After all she seemed to be interested in having dinner with him and Noah. An odd sensation rocked Buck to the core. It started with his toes, and it began to make its way over his body. He felt his skin come alive with a delectable heat, with tingles that robbed him of any perception other than the intuitive realization that there was an extremely attractive woman standing very close to him, waiting for a formal invitation for dinner.

Buck was more than willing to oblige. "Miss Lambert, I would love it if I could cook dinner for you." Kayla’s brilliant smile seemed to set the mercantile aglow. "I would love for you to cook for me!" For just a second, in his head, Buck went over the words he wanted to speak. The last thing he wanted to do was start tripping over his own tongue in front of the new teacher. "Well, that settles it Noah. Were having Miss Lambert for dinner tonight."

"Pa? I thought we were having turkey."

"Close enough!" Kayla jibed.