Chapter Four

      Powell Long came home from his cattle-buying trip worn out from the long hours on the plane and the hectic pace of visiting three ranches in three states in less than a week. He could have purchased his stud cattle after watching a video, and he sometimes did if he knew the seller, but he was looking over new territory for his stock additions, and he wanted to inspect the cattle in person before he made the acquisition. It was a good thing he had, because one of the ranches had forwarded a video that must have been of someone else’s cattle. When he toured the ranch, he found the stock were underfed, and some were lacking even the basic requirements for good breeding bulls.

      Still, it had been a profitable trip. He’d saved several thousand dollars on seed bulls simply by going to visit the ranchers in person. Now he was home again and he didn’t want to be. His house, like his life, was full of painful memories. Here was where Sally had lived, where her daughter still lived. He couldn’t look at Maggie without seeing her mother. He bought the child expensive toys, whatever her heart desired. But he couldn’t give her love. He didn’t think he had it in him to love the product of such a painful marriage. Sally had cost him the thing he’d loved most in all the world. She’d cost him Antonia.

      Maggie was sitting alone in the living room with a book. She looked up when he entered the room with eyes that avoided his almost at once.

      “Did you bring me something?” she asked dully. He always did. It was just one more way of making her feel that she was important to him, but she knew better. He didn’t even know what she liked, or he wouldn’t bring her silly stuffed toys and dolls. She liked to read, but he hadn’t noticed. She also liked nature films and natural history. He never brought her those sort of things. He didn’t even know who she was.

      “I brought you a new Barbie,” he said. “It’s in my suitcase.”

      “Thanks,” she said.

      Never a smile. Never laughter. She was a little old woman in a child’s body, and looking at her made him feel guilty.

      “Where’s Mrs. Bates?” he asked uncomfortably.

      “In the kitchen cooking,” she said.

      “How’s school?”

      She closed the book. “We got a new teacher last week. She doesn’t like me,” she said. “She’s mean to me.”

      His eyebrows lifted. “Why?”

      She shrugged, her thin shoulders rising and falling restlessly. “I don’t know. She likes everybody else. She glares at me all the time. She gave me a zero on my test, and she’s going to give me another zero on my homework. She says I’m going to fail fourth grade.”

      He was shocked. Maggie had always made good grades. One thing she did seem to have was a keen intelligence, even if her perpetual frown and introverted nature made her enemies. She had no close friends, except for Julie. He’d left Maggie with Julie’s family, in fact, last week. They were always willing to keep her while he was out of town.

      He glowered at her. “Why are you here instead of at Julie’s house?” he demanded suddenly.

      “I told them you were coming home and I wanted to be here, because you always bring me something,” she said.

      “Oh.”

      She didn’t add that Julie’s friendship with the detestable Miss Hayes had caused friction, or that they’d had a terrible argument just this morning, precipitating Maggie’s return home. Fortunately Mrs. Bates was working in the house, so that it was possible for her to be here.

      “The new teacher likes Julie,” she said sullenly.

      “But she hates me. She says I’m lazy and stupid.”

      “She says what?”

      That was the first time her father had ever reacted in such a way, as if it really mattered to him that someone didn’t like her. She looked at him fully, seeing that angry flash of his black eyes that always meant trouble for somebody. Her father intimidated her. But, then, he intimidated everyone. He didn’t like most people any more than she did. He was introverted himself, and he had a bad temper and a sarcastic manner when people irritated him. Over the years Maggie had discovered that she could threaten people with her father, and it always worked.

      Locally he was a legend. Most of her teachers had bent over backward to avoid confrontations with him. Maggie learned quickly that she didn’t have to study very hard to make good grades. Not that she wasn’t bright; she simply didn’t try, because she didn’t need to. She smiled. Wouldn’t it be nice, she thought, if she could use him against Miss Hayes?

      “She says I’m lazy and stupid,” she repeated.

      “What’s this teacher’s name?” he asked coldly.

      “Miss Hayes.”

      He was very still. “Antonia Hayes?” he asked curtly.

      “I don’t know her first name. She came on account of Mrs. Donalds quit,” she said. “Mrs. Donalds was my friend. I miss her.”

      “When did Miss Hayes get here?” he asked, surprised that he’d heard nothing about her returning to Bighorn. Of course, he’d been out of town for a week, too.

      “I told you—last week. They said she used to live here.” She studied his hard face. It looked dangerous. “Did she, Daddy?”

      “Yes,” he said with icy contempt. “Yes, she used to live here. Well, we’ll see how Miss Hayes handles herself with another adult,” he added.

      He went to the telephone and picked it up and dialed the principal of the Bighorn Elementary School.

      Mrs. Jameson was surprised to hear Powell Long on the other end of the phone. She’d never known him to interfere in school matters before, even when Maggie was up to her teeth in trouble with another student.

      “I want to know why you permit an educator to tell a child that she’s lazy and stupid,” he demanded.

      There