The doctor sat down at his desk again and Cynthie hoped the men would beseated, as well.

"Tell me about Mr. Sutton," she requested.

In the next room Winn awoke to total darkness. The feel of a bed under him made him start before he remembered the accident. He was in Wichita at the doctor's home. He rubbed his eyes and tried to look around him, tried to seehis hand. Was he truly blind? He felt his hand shake and settled it onto the bed. He closed his eyes, not wanting to test them any more.

Surely it was night this time, and he would wake up in the morning tosunshine again.

There was a funny taste in his mouth and his head felt heavy, the results ofthe painkiller, he a.s.sumed. There were noises in the other room, voices; oneof them was a woman's. He had a vague feeling that he had been dreaming ofangels. He hoped that he was still dreaming, that the accident was a dream,as well, but the pain in his head was just too real.

He tried to listen to the conversation on the other side of the door.

The voices were too faint, and there was some buzzing in his ears. He gaveup with a sigh. He didn't care what they were saying anyway.

He raised a hand and gingerly felt the lump in his forehead. It seemed huge,and he remembered the size of the rock that had made such a lump.

He shouldn't be surprised that he was blind. He was surprised he was evenalive.

He might have lost track of a little bit of time but he was sure itcouldn't be more than a day after his fall. If he could rest here a day ortwo more, he and the boys would still be able to catch up with the herd.

It was just an unlucky break.

It made him wonder about Lullaby. He knew none of the other boys were goingto ride her. She would be worse than ever when he finally caught up with heragain.

"You really did it this time, girl," he said under his breath.

The need to see, to convince himself that he could see, came back to him.

He blinked his eyes and tried to find the window. He had seen the lightedsquare earlier, but now it was too dark outside to see it. That had to be the reason it wasn't there--it was a dark, moonless night.

He listened for night sounds but all he heard were the voices from the other room. It was night, he repeated to himself, it had to be.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was feeling very drowsy.

It was getting hard to think. He had been trying to figure something out,but he couldn't remember what. Night and stars and sounds and angels flittedthrough his mind. Something. An angel's voice. He had been trying to hearan angel's voice. As he tried to separate it from the other voices hedrifted back to sleep.

Chapter Two.

Q^yys^Q JDr. Gordon wrapped the bandage around the littlegirl's arm and calculated her age to be about six. He looked at her freckled face and winked, receiving a grin in return.

They both turned as the front door opened. Cynthie stepped into the room,giving them a nod in greeting.

"Now, tell your mama not to worry," he told the child as he tied the bandagein place. She hopped down from the table without waiting for the doctor'shelp and proudly held the bandaged arm up for Cynthie to admire.

"Be more careful where you play," the doctor reminded her. He shook his head in amused resignation as the little girl left his office.

' "Did you find a wagon?" he asked over his shoulder as he put his supplies away.

Cynthie allowed herself a frown before answering. "All set," she said as DocGordon turned to face her.

"Are you sure it isn't too early to move him?"

"I don't think so. There's no sense in him getting used to this place thenstar ting all over at yours."

Cynthie nodded and followed the doctor toward the closed door. With his hand on the k.n.o.b, he turned and whispered, "I warn you, my dear. He's a handsome devil."

Cynthie grinned as she followed him into the room. Her first look at the man came as somewhat of a shock. Handsome devil, indeed, she thought.

Winn Sutton sat on the side of the bed, his hands braced against the mattresson either side of his body. The muscles in his upper arms and broadshoulders were taut under the blue shirt. Dark brown hair curled over the bandage around his forehead. The lower half of his face was covered with a neatly trimmed beard a shade lighter than his hair.

Under it she could see the outline of a square jaw and depressions on hischeeks that promised dimples.

She felt her mouth go dry. She had been imagining someone like her father,or maybe Louie. She hadn't expected a man in his prime or a man who was so.She heard the doctor speak her name and decided it was best her thoughts wereinterrupted.

"How do you do?" She stepped forward, thin king belatedly what a foolishthing that was to ask.

"It's good to meet you, ma'am." He reached a hand toward the voice that sounded somehow familiar. He tried to remember if he might have met herearlier but was sure he had not. The hand she placed in his was soft andwarm and seemed very small.

"Mrs. Franklin has a wagon outside," the doctor said, taking Winn's arm andhelping him to his feet. "She's going to take you to her ranch until you'rebetter."

Winn started to ask why but being on his feet made him feel dizzy. It took all his concentration to keep from leaning on the doctor as he guided him outthe door.

The air outside was warm and filled with sounds. He knew it was daytime buthe couldn't help thin king it was night. The woman with the sweet voice and soft hands was walking beside him. She occasionally brushed his arm, and thewind blew the flowered scent of her hair toward him.

"This is my neighbor, Reuben On," she told him. The man shook his hand and,along with the doctor, helped him into the back of the wagon. Winn had a bed of sorts amid the sacks there.

A horse had been tied on behind and it leaned forward now to nudge hisshoulder. It made him think of Lullaby, and he reached up cautiously tostroke a silky jaw.

"I appreciate the ride, Mr. Ott," Mrs. Franklin was saying. Something in hervoice sounded less than appreciative.

"Glad for the chance to be neighborly," the man answered.

Winn wasn't sure what was going on but he would go along with it. The boyswould be around later to explain. He supposed the doctor needed him out ofhis house, but he wasn't sure why he was moving to this woman's ranch.

Maybe she was a nurse. He decided it was the drug that kept him fromobjecting. It took too much effort to try to understand.

All he was sure about was that a short time ago, the doctor had a.s.sured himthat his sight would probably return once the swelling was gone. He remembered the doctor's words, almost chanting them in his head, as the panicstarted to rise.

"I'll look in on you soon," the doctor said. Winn heard his steps as hewalked away.

"Are you comfortable, Mr. Sutton?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, laying his head back against a sack. He felt the wagon rock as the man climbed aboard. Ott spoke to the team and the wagonlurched forward.

Cynthie turned to watch Winn as they moved slowly along the rutted street.

With every b.u.mp he was jostled about. More than once she saw him grab forsomething to steady himself. She was as grateful as he was when they reachedthe river at the edge of town and stopped.

"We have to wait for the ferry," she told him.

Winn's only reply was a deep sigh.

"It'll be a smoother ride for him on the prairie, Mrs. Franklin," Ott a.s.suredher, jumping down to unhitch the team. Cynthie didn't answer.

The prairie was full of gopher holes. The road was merely earth packed downby the weight of wagon wheels. She doubted that it would be much better than the streets in town.

Cynthie was feeling doubtful about several things right now. It was probablytoo soon to move Mr. Sutton. The ride was bound to be very uncomfortablefor him, and maybe even dangerous. It might all be a mistake anyway. Takinghim in had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she wondered if sheshouldn't have listened to Kyle instead of let ting Dr.

Gordon talk her into this. She certainly didn't need one more problem to worry about.

She looked at Mr. Sutton and felt rea.s.sured. She didn't quite admit toherself that she found him intriguing. He needed her help and she couldn'trefuse, she told herself.

The ferry arrived. Cynthie climbed down and untied Obsidian, leading himonto the ferry as Ott and the ferryman rolled the wagon on board.

She went to stand behind the wagon holding the stallion's bridle, watchingher pa.s.senger.

"Did you use the ferry when you came in yesterday, Mr. Sutton?"

Cynthie asked.

Winn frowned.

"If we did I slept through it."

"There's talk of a bridge," she continued.

"Actually there's talk of two bridges, but I imagine only one will be built."

Winn nodded. He didn't want to be rude but he didn't feel like talking,either. The plans this little town might have didn't interest him at themoment. He tried to relax and ignore the rocking motion of the ferry. He had driven herds of cattle across enough rivers to know the dangers and hehated boats. Crossing water on the back of a good horse was one thing; sitting helplessly in a wagon on a ferry was quite another, especially in thedark.

Cynthie gave up any hope of conversation. She turned to face the wind,bending her knees in time with the rocking motion as the current tugged atthe ferry. What she really wanted was an excuse not to ride with Reuben Ott.She glanced at him, helping to guide the ferry across. He was past middleage, long and skinny. No thing about him gave a hint of the scoundrel she believed him to be. It was just bad luck that he had been in the store whenshe had gone in to ask about renting a wagon. Why had he volunteered to givethem a ride? He probably wanted to know what she was up to. He hadn't asked many questions yet, but Cynthie was sure he would.

The ferry reached the opposite bank and when it was secured, Ott led thehorses off, then helped the ferryman push the wagon. Winn felt the wagonjerk as the wheels rolled from the planks onto the softer ground.

When the team was. .h.i.tched, Ott went to the back of the wagon and tied thestallion securely.

"How's our pa.s.senger, Mrs. Franklin?" He gave Winn a pat on the shoulder."Hang on, friend. I think the worse is over." He took Cynthie's elbow tolead her forward and helped her aboard.

Cynthie tried not to show her irritation. It was as if he knew she would

rather ride Obsidian and had come back to make sure she didn't.

When he was seated next to her, he flicked the reins and the team started forward.

Ott cleared his throat and gave his companion a sidelong glance.

"Tell me, Mrs. Franklin, is everything going all right for you at the ranch?"

"Fine, Mr. Ott," she replied tightly.

Ott nodded, ma king little approving sounds.

"Your herd got off late, I understand. Word is you were missing several

head."

Cynthie gritted her teeth.

"I don't see that that's any of your business, Mr. Ott."

"No, ma'am, maybe not. But if there's trouble affecting one settler, it soon

affects the rest." He nodded for emphasis."I like to keep up on things in my neighborhood."Cynthie didn't answer. She suspected Ott knew as much or more about her missing cattle than she did.

"Who knows," Ott added.

"Someday I might be able to help you."

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Ott. I'll be sure to call on you should I need

help." Cynthie hoped he would get the message and keep quiet.If not, it was going to be an awfully long trip.Cynthie turned to watch Winn. He seemed to be sleeping. The wagon was shaking him but not tossing him about as it had before.

She hoped she wasn't ma king a big mistake. Care of an invalid was

considerable work. She wasn't at all sure she could handle it.Teaching him to live without his sight might turn out to be impossible."Where do you know him from?"Cynthie looked at Ott sharply. Explaining that she was taking a complete stranger into her home would sound crazy. It was a certainty that whatever she told Ott would be all over the country in no time.

"He's my cousin,"

she said firmly.

"On my mother's side."