Part 11 (1/2)

”Idon't want you to read anything into this,” she began.”Read anything into what?” He laughed but it was a nervous laugh.”Just tell me why I'm here.”Cynthie took a deep breath.”When your friends brought you into Wichita, Dr. Gordon sent for me.”Winn nodded. He knew that already.”Why?””My father was blind.”It took a second for the statement to register but when it did the full implications. .h.i.t him like a blow. She was supposed to be his teacher.They never expected him to see again!Cynthie watched the blood drain from his face. He slowly shook his head.”He lied to me.”She quickly moved to the swing beside him.”I know what you're thin king.That's why I didn't tell you before, but”-- He didn't let her finish.'torn lied to me. ””No! Please listen.” She put her hands on top of his. He didn't even feel them.”You're supposed to teach me how to be blind. What did you think? By thetime you told me I'd never see again, I wouldn't care?” His voice was deceptively quiet, but Cynthie could feel the tension in the big hands under hers.

”Winn, listen.”

”No, I think I'd rather believe we're cousins.”

”Dr. Gordon wouldn't lie to us. He just thought I'd be more understanding because I've had some experience.”

Winn turned his face toward her, as if he needed to see if she was telling

the truth. Those pale blue eyes tore at her heart. Her hand was halfway to his face before she caught herself.

Winn took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

”I always thought I was a patient man, and I've had to accept some changes before. But this...” He shook his head.

Leaning closer, Cynthie squeezed his hand.

”Then don't accept it yet. Just realize it's a possibility. I've written toa doctor in New York, and Dr. Gordon said...””I know what he said.”Cynthie felt tears form in her eyes. She hoped they wouldn't make her voice shake. She swallowed hard before she spoke.”Do you have family somewhere? I can write them for you.”Winn thought about it a moment. The letters he got from his sister were always rea.s.suring, but he knew it had to be a struggle for the family tosurvive on what was left of the home place. If Cora knew about this, shewould want him to come home. She might even try to come and get him.

”No,”he said finally. ”There's no one.”Cynthie noticed it had taken him some time to answer. She decided to let it go for now. She gave his hand a pat as she came to her feet.”Shall we go finish our coffee?” she asked, trying for a cheerful tone.

”No, thanks,” he said. ”I think I'll just stay out here a while.” At the door she turned toward him again. ”It's too early to give up hope,” she said. Cynthie carried her boots out of the bedroom and padded down the stairs in her stocking feet. It was still early but she couldn't sleep. She was hoping a morning ride would clear her head enough that she could tackle thebooks again before they left for town.

Maybe she was wrong to insist that Winn come with them to town. He had been quiet yesterday, and it made her worry. But then, he was usually quiet. He never gave her much sign of what he felt. The trip to town would give himsomething to do, and something to think about. Mostly, she hoped, it wouldgive him more confidence.

She closed the stairway door behind her and started across the front room.

She stopped suddenly when she saw the silhouette of a man on the porch.

She recognized Winn and didn't even glance toward the bedroom to confirm it.

She stopped long enough to pull on her boots before she joined him outside.

Winn was leaning against the porch post when he heard the door open behind him. He had heard tiny sounds from inside the house already, sounds of doors

and floorboards that told him someone was up. He didn't turn to greet her.

He couldn't have seen her anyway.

”You're up early,” she said softly.

”If you say so,” he answered.

She stepped up beside him.

”The sun is just barely

turning the horizon gray. Everything's still in shadows.”Winn didn't answer. He was used to getting up before dawn, but sometimes nowhe had trouble knowing what time it was. He hated relying on the d.a.m.nedclock chimes.

' ”I was going for a ride. Do you want to come?”

The suggestion took him by surprise, and he couldn't stop the humorless laughthat escaped from his chest.”No, I'm serious,” she added almost urgently. ”My father used to ride.”Winn pictured himself on a tired old nag being led around a corral.”No, thanks,” he said.Cynthie decided not to push. He might not be ready to ride yet. She wished she knew the circ.u.mstances of the accident. That could help her know how toproceed. For now, she would let it go.”The horizon will be streaked with color soon,” she said softly.”Would you like me to describe it?””No, thanks,” he repeated, a little more firmly.

”It might help you picture it.”He wanted to shout at her, ”I don't want to picture it. I don't want to hearyou describe it. I don't want to think that that's the only way I'll eversee a sunrise again!” Instead he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

”Go on and enjoy your ride,” he said softly. ”I'll enjoy the morning in my

own way.”Off to their right, the sh.e.l.ls clattered in the breeze. A bird called andwas answered. Cynthie stood so close, he could feel her heavy riding skirtbrush against his leg.

”All right,” she said finally. He felt

her hand touch his shoulder and heard her feet tap down the steps and crunch across the gravel.

He heard the hinges squeak as the barn door was opened. He stood listeningfor several minutes, wondering if the sky had colored and if there wereclouds catching the first rays of light. He heard Cynthie ride out of theyard and wondered if she appreciated the freedom she enjoyed.

The sh.e.l.ls, the birds, the whinny of a horse were all peaceful sounds but hedidn't feel a part of them. Each new sound, the buzz of an insect, the slamof the bunkhouse door, made him feel more alone, more separate--even from themorning. He felt the sting of tears and brushed them away quickly. It seemed his eyes had found another way to betray him.

Winn stood at the river, Greg's hand clasped firmly in his own, and listenedto the harness chain rattle and clink as the team was unhitched.

Peter had been appointed to drive them into town, and he talked softly to thehorses as he led them onto the ferry.

Cynthie stood nearby. He could hear the wind rustle her skirts. His feelings toward her were more confused than ever. He had entertained some rather morbid ideas about why he was staying with her. He had thought thatperhaps she was so ugly the only man she could ever catch would have to be ablind man. He had even pictured himself as her prisoner. Somehow the truth was more chilling.

Her father had been blind. How could he have been anything more than abeggar? Had Cynthie married Franklin for his money then, as a way to lookafter her father? His head was full of questions about this other blind man.

Questions that he was afraid to ask.

”I don't like the ferry,” a small voice whimpered. Winn realized that Greg'sgrip had become unusually tight.