Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy - Diana Palmer Page 0,14
one night.
“Really good,” she told her mother. “Parker’s so smart!”
“He knows horses, all right,” Katy replied.
“No,” Teddie corrected. “That’s not what I mean. He’s really smart. He had a phone call Saturday when he was over here. I only heard what he was saying, but it was way over my head. Something about Einstein-Rosen bridges and somebody named Schrodinger.”
Katy’s mouth opened. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”
“Well, I think so.”
“Did he mention a cat when he talked about Schrodinger?” Katy pressed.
Teddie frowned. “Yes. But the cat was alive and dead in a box until you opened the box he was in. Strange!”
Katy caught her breath. That was theoretical physics. And it was something she wouldn’t have expected a horse wrangler to know anything about. Parker had said he graduated from college, but he hadn’t mentioned in what field. This wasn’t only over Teddie’s head, it was over Katy’s.
“Well,” she said finally, as she finished her mashed potatoes and skinless chicken breast.
“I told you, he’s real smart,” Teddie repeated. She sighed. “Some man was trying to get him to go to the Capitol and do some work, but he said it wasn’t summer and he couldn’t spare the time, they’d have to get somebody else.”
“Amazing,” Katy said.
“What is an Einstein-Rosen bridge?” Teddie wanted to know.
“Over my head,” Katy laughed. “It has to do with time dilation, and wormholes. I used to have a best friend when I was in college who had a degree in physics. She talked like that, too.”
“And that cat?”
“It’s a thought experiment,” Katy replied. “There’s a cat in a box. The cat is either alive or dead. But until you open the box and look in, the cat exists in both states.”
“Weird.”
“Very weird. That’s the sort of thing physicists do. Einstein came up with the theory of relativity, and he was a physicist. Probably the most famous of all of them, although Stephen Hawking came close to that.”
“If Parker’s that smart, why’s he breaking horses out in the country?” Teddie wondered.
“Maybe he doesn’t like the city,” Katy said. She made a face. “Truly, I didn’t either, but your dad loved where we lived.”
“He was a rancher, too,” Teddie said.
“He was, but the military became his whole life after he went overseas. He was a doctor. He said having a practice here was fine, but good men were dying in other countries and he needed to be a combat physician to help fight for his country. He was the most patriotic man I ever knew.”
“He was a good daddy.”
“He was a good husband,” Katy replied, fighting tears, as her daughter was. “We’ll get through this, Teddie,” she said after a minute. “It’s going to take time, that’s all. I thought maybe coming out here to live would make it easier for us. It’s a wonderful ranch.”
“Yes, it is. I made two friends.” Teddie laughed. “Edie and Parker.”
“You did. Parker’s a kind person.” She shook her head. “Theoretical physics and horses. Oh, my.”
Teddie grinned. “Maybe he’s dreaming up ray guns and stuff.”
“Maybe he’s trying for a unified field theory of relativity.” She yawned. “I have to get some sleep. It’s test day tomorrow. My students are dreading it. Me, too, I guess.”
“You like teaching, don’t you, Mom?”
She smiled. “I do like it. I didn’t expect to. It’s really different from teaching college students,” she added. “But I have a good class to teach things to. Education is education, no matter the age of the student.”
“Yes, I guess it is.”
“How about you?” Katy wondered. “Is school getting any easier?”
Teddie nodded. “A lot easier, now that Edie and I can hang out together. We talk about horses. Everybody talks about horses,” she chuckled. “Most of the kids in school around Benton are ranch kids, so most everybody rides. Except me. But I’m learning.”
“Parker says you’re doing well,” Katy told her.
“There’s a lot to learn,” Teddie replied. “He said we have to do it with muscle memory, like in the army. You go over and over things until they’re a reflex, especially if you get in a dangerous situation, like if your horse runs away with you.”
“It’s a good way to teach,” Katy said. “I like Parker.”
Teddie grinned. “I like him, too.”
“You didn’t eat your beans, Teddie.” Her mother indicated the plate in front of her daughter.
Teddie made a face. “I hate beans.”
“Eat just one and I’ll say no more,” her mother coaxed.
Teddie sighed. “Okay. Just one. Just for you. But only one.”