Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

her
question, she tried to move on to less painful
thoughts.
    "It is so hot," she said. "I have never known
such heat."
    "Is not New Orleans hot? What is your city
like?"
    So he had been listening to her conversation
with Mr. Rumford and Mr. Carruthers in the
coach. She sighed. "Louisiana is as different
from this desert as two places can be. It is green
and teeming with life. Rivers and streams
meander through dense swamps, and the
Mississippi River dominates everything around
it."
    Tykota watched her carefully. "Why did you
leave New Orleans? Surely you set out on a
journey difficult for a woman alone."

    "I am certain you heard much of my
conversation on the stage, even though you
pretended to be asleep. You probably know that
my mother and brother both recently died."
    "Tell me more about them."
    "Mother had been an invalid for many years,
but she was so sweet-natured and uncomplaining
that it was a joy to be with her. I wanted to make
her life comfortable and ease her suffering as
much as I could. It was hard to watch her
become weaker and weaker over time. My
brother was, I imagine, like most big brothers:
protective, kind, and loving."
    Tykota looked suddenly thoughtful but did not
speak, so she concluded, "William died in a
horseback riding accident."
    "What about your husband?"
    She averted her eyes. "I have allowed you and
the others to form a misconception about me. I
have never been married. I just thought it was
safer to pretend to be a married woman while
traveling alone."
    "I see." Tykota found that that revelation
brought him an odd satisfaction. "So, did your
family do business in New Orleans?"
    She studied her hands, noticing the nails
were chipped and dirty. "Yes. At one time, my
family owned storage warehouses and shipping barges. But the war came, and we lost
everything, as many of our friends did. My father died soon thereafter. My sister married
and moved out West."

    "And then you lost your mother and
brother?"
    The thought of what she had suffered touched
him. But then again, perhaps she was on her way
west to join not only her sister but the man she
would marry. "I suppose you had a full social
life in New Orleans."
    "No. None at all. My mother needed constant
care."
    He could hear the loneliness in her voice.
"There is a man now, perhaps, who wants you
for his wife?"
    She shook her head. "No one."
    He smiled, and it transformed his face. "Then
the men in New Orleans are either blind or
fools."
    She looked at him, stunned. "Was that a
compliment?"
    "You do not know you are pleasing to look
at?"
    She smiled ruefully. "I am too tall for a
woman, and I have a terrible temper, besides.
But I thank you all the same."
    So, she did not know she was a beauty. How
unlike many other women, who were forever
fishing for compliments. "Makinna is your first
name, is it not? How did you come by it?"
    "It was my mother's maiden name." She clasped her hands and looked at him intently.
"Now I have told you about myself. So what
about you? I want to know why you
speak English like an Englishman, not an
American."

    A veil seemed to descend over his face, and he
leaned back against the cliff. "When I was very
young, my father sent me to live with an
Englishman who was his trusted friend. I came
to know George Silverhom better than I knew
my own father. He took me to England with him,
and I lived with him and his wife, Hannah, on a
country estate. Since he had no children, he
raised me like his own. In my eleventh year, he
bought a ranch in Texas, so I could be nearer my
own land and people."
    "You grew up in Texas?"
    "I grew up in many places, but Biquera Ranch
is the home I remember the most fondly. It is
very near the Mexican border."
    "You must have missed your real family."
    "Yes. But I saw much of the world I would
otherwise never have known. And I was sent
back to England to be fully educated."
    "That explains the accent, among other
things. And