LEANNA’S LIGHT
No bathroom. No running water. No electricity.
How did he feel about the natives he shared the
land with in this territory? If she desired to open a school and teach not only
his children but also other children, would he object?
If he did, then he would have to send for
another wife. She’d open a school on her own even if it was in a tent under a
tree. All children had the right to learn to read and write at the very least.
Her mind made up, she sat back and let the land she’d call home fly by her.
The stagecoach came to a bumpy stop, jolting
Leanna against the inside wall. Grabbing the side of the window, she peered
out, surprised to see a two-story, white clapboard building and nothing much
else. Several men gathered on the porch watching, waiting for whomever chose to
disembark. Before she could react, her trunk fell to the ground in a cloud of
dust, followed by her leather bag.
“Wichita Agency, miss,” the driver called out
as the door popped open. “This is your stop. I hope there is someone here
waiting inside for you.”
Leanna stepped down from the stage. “Thank
you.” She smiled, looking at her belongings which were a clump of discarded
items on the ground.
Everywhere she looked there were tents with
families gathered around them, watching the stage. Watching her. The laughter
of the children was infectious, and she smiled, thinking how carefree they
were. Then she got a better look at the tent city and her heart sank.
From what she could tell, these precious
children lived in those tents that weren’t protected with wooden walls from the
weather. There had to be more than just the building she stood in front of. But
where?
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