A Worthy Pursuit by Karen Witemeyer Page B

times must she have read this story to be able to repeat it so flawlessly?
    “‘He’d found the small box canyon yesterday while scouting,’” she continued, “‘and Dan’s gut had convinced him it would be the perfect place for a hideout. Sheltered. Hidden. A small creek at the back to provide water for horses and men alike. So he’d taken a chance and positioned himself on high ground and waited for the gang’s return. His gut had been right. But then, Dead-Eye Dan’s gut was always right.’” Lily tipped her head back until her eyes met his. She grinned. “Your turn, Mr. Hammond.”
    “How many times have you read this story, squirt?” Stone kept his tone nonchalant, careful to mask his astonishment.
    Lily shrugged. “Just once. But that’s all I ever read anything. Well, except the Bible. Miss Lottie says the Bible is different because God helps you see new things in it each time you read it. Not quite sure what she means by that. I can see the Bible pages in my mind just like I can see the pages of my dime novels and read them there, but she still likes me to read from the actual book sometimes.”
    Stone said nothing, just tried to absorb what the girl had said with such casualness. She’d only read the book once? And she could quote it verbatim? He couldn’t fathom such a thing. “You see the pages in your mind?” he asked.
    “Yep. It’s kind of like a photograph, I guess. I see it once, then I can look at it later, whenever I want, inside my mind. It’s not that different from what John can do with the piano.” Lily turned around in her seat, obviously tired of craning her neck to look at him. “Miss Lottie says we’re not to brag about the tricks we can do, though. Especially if we start attending the school in Madisonville next term. She says it’s not kind to make other people feel bad if they take longer to learn something. It doesn’t make them dumb, it just means they have to work harder.”
    Stone schooled his features into a serious mask. Nice to know he wasn’t dumb, just a hard worker.
    “Once”—Lily leaned in close as if imparting a secret—“Miss Lottie told me about a boy at the academy who could do really hard arithmetic problems in his head without writing anything down. He got so used to it coming easy that when his teacher tried to show him how to do problems that were even more difficult, he didn’t understand them right away and got fed up and quit. Left the academy. Miss Lottie says that if God gives us a gift, we have to culti . . . cultivate it.” Lily grinned over the accomplishment of recalling the correct word then gave him a look that had Charlotte Atherton written all over it. “That means work hard at helping it grow.”
    Stone nodded. “It sounds like Miss Lottie is a good teacher.” A woman who seemed to believe that teaching character was as important as teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic. A point in her favor.
    “She’s the best!” Lily bounced on the sofa cushion. “Shegives us our lessons every morning after chores. Well, except for yesterday. But that’s because you showed up. You threw off her schedule. Miss Lottie’s real fond of schedules. I’m surprised she let you stay.” Lily tilted her head and considered him, as if finally questioning what he was doing here.
    Time for a diversion.
    Taking Dead-Eye Dan in hand, Stone fanned the pages to a random spot in the middle. “‘Dan dove behind a fallen tree as a hailstorm of bullets rained down around him. The Gatling Gang had come by their moniker honestly, laying down rapid fire that mimicked the output of the famed war gun. Unruffled by the deadly flurry, however, Dan flipped onto his back behind the log and reloaded his Henry repeater with methodical precision. The six-gun at his hip sported full chambers. The knife on his belt was razor-sharp and ready for action.’” Stone’s voice trailed off, cueing Lily.
    She grinned, taking up the challenge like a seasoned