Not the Marrying Kind, page 14
“Why ever not?”
“Trust me, Mama. It’s not fit to eat.” Kat grabbed the pie tin from her mother and rushed to the back door. “Don’t we have any fresh fruit we could serve?”
“I’ll get the preserves.” Mama sighed and headed for the cupboard.
As Kat stepped outside to dispose of the pie, she noticed a buggy coming up the road to the house. At once, she recognized the heavy-set man in the somber black suit and narrow string tie. Beside him sat a boy about the same age as Benjamin, but where Benjamin was all skin and bones, this hefty fellow had obviously not missed any meals.
Quickly she scooted back through the doorway into the kitchen. “Mama, we’ve got company. It’s Judge Morse.”
“Well, honey, go out and greet him. You know he’s always welcome in our home.”
Kat nodded, and threw off her apron, but when she stepped outside again, she frowned. She’d known W. H. Morse for most of her life. He lived in Denver, served the Colorado Territory as a federal judge, and came through the little town of Sunset several times a year. She’d never been in trouble, never planned to be, and had no problem whatsoever with the judge. But she didn’t care a whit about his boy, Willie. He liked to tag along on his father’s travels, thought himself mighty important to be the son of a federal official, and always managed to stir up bad feelings wherever he went.
Why Judge Morse didn’t do something about the boy, Kat would never understand. He had to be aware of the trouble Willie caused, but instead of disciplining him, his father turned a blind eye to his son’s misdeeds.
“Good afternoon, Judge Morse. Afternoon, Willie. What a pleasant surprise to see you.”
The honorable and esteemed Judge William Howard Morse, Sr. climbed out of his buggy, huffing, puffing, and wiping perspiration from his brow with a grubby-looking bandana.
“Long way out here,” he commented. “Especially on a hot day.”
Sweat poured from his balding pate. He unfolded the bandana and rubbed it across his head. Even at a distance of several feet, Kat could smell the stench that emanated from him.
Her nose wrinkled and she took a few steps back. Still she had a duty to be polite, so she forced a smile to her face. “We were just finishing our Sunday dinner. Would you care to step inside and join us? You’re more than welcome.”
“No, no, I didn’t come here expecting a meal, and I don’t plan to stay long.” He tucked the bandana into the pocket of his sweat-stained vest and leaned forward. “But I don’t suppose your mother has any of that fine apple pie she makes, does she? A bite of that might tide me over until I get back home.”
“I’m sorry, Judge. No pie today.”
His crestfallen expression nearly made her laugh, but she reminded herself that she was in the presence of a federal authority. Pa had taught her to show respect, and even if it proved difficult, she always tried to follow his teachings.
The door behind her opened, and Emily Sue bounded out, her golden curls dancing in the brilliant sunlight. “Mama said to see what was taking you so long. She said to invite the judge inside.” She must have suddenly remembered her own manners. With a proper little curtsy, she said, “Good afternoon, Judge Morse.” The lilt left her voice when she added, “Good afternoon to you, too, Willie.”
Kat turned. “We were just fixing to come inside, weren’t we, Judge?” Smiling she linked her arm in his. “There isn’t any pie, but I think Mama might have some raspberry preserves. A spoonful or two on her fresh bread might make a good treat for your long drive back to Denver.”
“Why, yes, it might, indeed.”
As she stepped back, allowing the judge to enter first, Benjamin came rushing out, colliding with the huge whale-like man. Thrown back, he looked up with wide eyes and pure fear on his face.
“Say there, boy, slow down,” warned the judge. “Watch where you’re going.”
Benjamin lowered his head. “Yes, sir. I will.” He maneuvered around the man who stood blocking the door, then slunk over to stand beside Emily.
A bit of adolescent jealousy? Kat smiled at the thought. She patted the judge's forearm. “Let’s get you some of that bread and raspberry spread, sir. Maybe you’d care for a glass of tea to go with it?” She spoke quickly, hoping to distract the man from his run-in with Benjamin. The boy didn’t need to get on the judge’s bad side. He’d already struggled against enough hardships and disadvantages in his young life.
“Well, Judge Morse,” said her father, rising from his chair when Kat ushered the man into the dining room. “What brings you all the way out here?”
Morse pulled out his smelly bandana and wiped his brow again. “Just checking to make sure things were all right. Heard you’d had a bad spell.” Clutching the bandana in his stubby fingers, he tapped his hand against his chest. His foul body odor wafted through the room. “If there’s anything I can do for you, Dirk, you let me know, all right?”
“Appreciate the thoughtfulness, Judge. Awful kind of you to come pay your respects. It’s a bit early for that, though. I’m not dead yet.”
Morse threw back his head and laughed. The physical exertion must have been too much. Fresh beads of sweat popped out across his forehead. He wiped them away, then apparently noticed Joshua for the first time. He waved the stinking rag in his direction. Everybody at the table seemed to have a coughing fit at once.
“Who’s this fine fellow?” asked the judge. “Don’t recall ever seeing him before.”
“New foreman. Hired him on a short time ago.”
Joshua got to his feet. Kat expected him to offer a handshake and an introduction. Instead, he turned toward her and said, “Reckon it would be best for me to head back to Cody’s about now. I don’t want to interrupt your visit with the judge.”
If for some reason his actions were an attempt to brush off Judge Morse, it failed. Morse cleared his throat—quite noisily—and turned his full attention on Joshua.
“Sorry, but I didn’t catch the name.”
“Barron, sir. Joshua Barron.” He extended a hand.
An odd sort of relief washed over Kat as the two men shook hands, yet Joshua’s guarded expression brought renewed apprehension. Clearly he felt uncomfortable in the judge’s presence.
“It’s all right, Joshua, you don’t have to leave. You’re not—”
Her words were interrupted by shouts from the yard. Morse, who stood nearest the window, responded first.
“Good Lord, it’s Willie. And that other fellow, too. They’ve got themselves a fight going out there.”
“Benjamin?” Kat raced toward the window and peered out, shocked to see the wiry, red-headed boy straddling Judge Morse’s obese son. Benjamin’s fist plowed into the boy’s nose. Blood covered Willie’s white shirt.
Kat flew out the door. “Stop it!” she cried. “Stop it right now!”
She hadn’t noticed Joshua, but he must have been at her heels. He grabbed Benjamin and pulled him off his blubbering, tearful opponent. All the while, Emily Sue watched, her face pale, her eyes bigger and rounder than ever, and a stream of tears streaking across her rosy cheeks.
“It wasn’t Benjamin’s fault,” she shouted. “Willie started it.”
By now, the entire family had come out to witness the fracas. Judge Morse grabbed his son and set about checking him over, assessing the damage done. Joshua, meanwhile, kept a firm grasp on Benjamin’s shirt collar, holding him back even as his arms flailed and his legs kicked in an effort to get away.
Kat’s father stepped into the fray. “What’s this about? What’s going on?” He cast accusing glances all around. Would Benjamin have courage enough to speak up?
Yes, indeed. Kat smiled, admiring the boy for his bravery, and for his chivalrous acts.
“He was calling Emily names,” Benjamin told the crowd of listeners. “Said she was a spoiled brat.” Benjamin’s fists were still doubled up. Kat suspected that if Joshua were to loosen his grip for even a second, the hot-tempered lad would be beating Willie Morse again.
“Who is this boy?” asked the judge, turning toward Kat and her father. Amanda had taken Willie aside and was wiping the blood from his face with a clean kerchief. “Who does he belong to?” Morse’s voice bellowed so loudly the ground itself seemed to shake.
Kat caught the apprehension in the boy’s eyes. His face paled, making his freckles stand out all the more. She glanced up, her gaze meeting Joshua’s. Somehow he would know what to say, what to do, how to make things all right again. Why she believed it, Kat couldn’t say. It was simply a feeling that rose up from deep within her.
“He’s my boy,” Joshua said, his voice filled with such ringing conviction that for a moment, Kat actually thought it true.
Upon hearing his claim, anyone would have believed him, she thought. Certainly Judge Morse would have no reason to doubt Joshua’s his words. But would her father keep silent? Would he allow the bold-faced lie to stand? She held her breath.
Judge Morse didn’t give anybody a chance to speak. He lumbered toward Benjamin and Joshua, looked down his nose at the former, then turned his fury on the latter.
“That boy of yours is a trouble-maker, Barron, plain as the nose on your face. Or maybe I should say plain as the nose on Willie’s face.” For obvious dramatic effect, he cast a sympathetic glance toward his son. “No doubt it’s broken, and I’ve got a mind to summon Marshal Long here and now.” Morse paused, letting his threat sink in. “I won’t,” he went on, “but I will expect you to discipline your boy.” He stepped closer, breathing his anger out on Joshua. “I don’t know you, and I probably don’t want to know you, but I’ll tell you this. You’d better keep a close watch on that kid of yours, because if he gets himself into any more trouble, I’ll be coming after him. I’ll take him right in and throw him behind bars, don’t think I won’t.”
He paused again. Kat guessed he was waiting for someone to protest. No one said a word.
Out came the smelly, sweat-soaked bandana. Morse wiped his heated face. The gesture seemed to calm him somewhat. “Kids like that,” he said, jerking the bandana toward Benjamin, “need punishment. Can’t let rascals like that get off easy.”
Pressing her lips together, Kat forced herself to remain quiet. Willie Morse deserved his broken nose along with whatever other injuries Benjamin had dealt him. Between his enormous size and his father’s standing, the obnoxious bully figured he could do as he pleased and get away with it. Until now, nobody had tried to stop him. In her estimation, it was long past time Willie learned a lesson, but damn it all! Why did Benjamin have to be the one to teach him?
The judge stared down at Benjamin. “You’ve got a mean look. I might still take you in. Maybe a night or two in jail would straighten you out.”
“You can’t be serious.” Kat couldn’t keep silent a second longer. “He’s a boy.”
“A boy?” Morse shook his head. “He’s a tall, strong, fellow with a mean temper and a bad disposition. You’d best watch your back around him, Miss Kat.”
Why didn’t somebody come to Benjamin’s defense? Appalled by the silence, Kat pushed her way past the judge, coming to stand between him and the boy. “He’s sorry for what he did.” She cast a warning look over her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Benjamin?” She prayed he’d have sense enough to give the right answer.
“Yes, sir," he said, looking up at the judge. "I’m real sorry. It won’t happen again.” In a show of contrition, the boy scuffed his boots against the rocky dirt.
“All right, everyone, nothing more for us to do out here. Let’s all get back inside.” Kat’s father led the way, shepherding the judge and his son into the house. Kat’s mother, quickly turning the talk to fresh bread and raspberry preserves, followed close behind.
Emily, Kat, Benjamin, and Joshua remained outside. As soon as the door to the house closed, she whirled around.
“What in God’s green earth were you thinking, Benjamin?”
Emily came running, a fresh onslaught of tears pouring from her red-rimmed eyes. “He was protecting me! Willie called me names. He said I was a spoiled brat and that I thought too much of myself. He threw dirt at me, and he ripped my skirts.” She’d had her arms clasped around herself. Now she lowered them to expose the ugly marks streaking across her new Sunday dress. Mrs. McIntyre had finished the ruffled, daisy-yellow frock and delivered it only a few days earlier. The stitching had now come loose at the waist and one of the wide ribboned sashes had been nearly torn away. “He ruined it, Kat.” Emily burst into fresh sobs.
Joshua let go of Benjamin’s arms, then quickly placed strong hands on the boy’s shoulders and turned him around. “I understand that you were trying to help, but—”
“The bully deserved it. And when I told the judge I was sorry, yeah, I meant it, ’cause I’m real sorry I didn’t break both of his arms as well as his nose. He got off lucky.”
“No, Ben,” said Joshua. “You’re the one who got off lucky. Like I said, I know you were trying to help, but fighting isn’t the way to solve anything. And don’t think for a minute that his threats were idle. I’m surprised he didn’t haul you off. That’s his son you were beating up.”
“Yeah, but he deserved it,” Benjamin insisted again. But now his voice quavered a bit. Worry shone in his amber eyes. He chewed at his lower lip, then looked up at Kat. “You don’t think he’ll send that marshal out here, do you? I mean, maybe when he gets to town, he’ll report me. I don’t want to go to jail.” He scraped the toe of his boot through the dirt. “You won’t let anybody take me away, will you?”
Kat saw the worry. And she saw the fear. “Nobody’s going to take you away. Nobody’s going to do you any harm, Benjamin.”
“But they might send me off to one of those orphanages,” he cried. “I don’t want to go to one of those places! I’ve heard how awful they—” Suddenly, he stopped. His tongue worked at his lip for a minute and he averted his gaze from hers. “Well, that is, I mean, I know how awful those places are, seeing as how I lived in one. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to go back,” he said, emphasizing the last word. He spun around, flung himself against Kat and held her tight. “Please, Kat, don’t let anybody take me. I want to stay here with you.”
“It’s all right, Ben,” she crooned, instinctively running her hand through his shaggy locks. “Nobody’s going to take you away. I won’t let anybody take you.”
“Promise, Miss Kat? Promise I can stay here forever?”
She hesitated, biting her lip. How could she make such a promise when her own time at the ranch hung in such a tenuous balance? But he needed reassurance, needed above all to feel safe and secure, to know that he wouldn’t be left adrift and on his own ever again. Like every human being, this hurting little boy needed to know that somebody cared about him.
“As long as there’s a Rocking P Ranch, Benjamin, you’ll always have a place here. This is your home now. You belong here.”
He hugged her tight. “I won’t cause any more trouble, Miss Kat, I promise.”
* * * *
Joshua wished he’d never accepted Kat’s invitation to Sunday dinner. Of course, he wished he’d never done a lot of things in his life, but wishing couldn’t change the past. It always stayed the same, regrets and all.
Not that he actually had cause to regret anything he’d ever done. Trouble was, good intentions sometimes led to bad outcomes, just like Benjamin’s noble actions on Emily Sue’s behalf. The kid meant well, but he’d probably pay hell for it sooner or later.
Once a man—or even a boy—got tagged as a trouble-maker, a law-breaker, or any one of a half-dozen other labels the legal authorities liked to bandy about, he’d find himself surrounded by suspicions wherever he went. His life would be lived in the shadows of the doubts people had about him. Joshua hated to see it happen to Benjamin.
“Come on, Ben, let’s get you back to the bunkhouse. I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Joshua,” Kat called out as she turned to go to the house. “Bright and early, right?”
He stopped and let out a breath. “Bright and early,” he repeated. He felt Benjamin’s eyes upon him. For a boy of fourteen, he was mighty observant. Had he caught the fact that Kat’s question hadn’t been answered? “Come on,” he said to the boy. “Let’s go.”
But Benjamin didn’t move. “Is everything all right, Mr. Barron? Between you and Miss Kat, I mean.”
“Sure enough. Everything’s just fine,” he replied, maybe a bit too quickly. Of course Ben was still a kid, and although he was observant, he didn’t have experience enough to understand the nuances behind the spoken words. One of the hardest lessons to learn in life was that sometimes a man could tell the truth yet still not mean what he said.
Sort of went right along with that lesson about good intentions leading to bad outcomes.
Damn, but life sure worked in funny ways at times. The good Lord must have one hell of a sense of humor. Either that, or He just liked to see folks suffer.
Chapter Ten
As Kat hoped, a few slices of Mama’s wheat bread spread with generous servings of raspberry preserves soon restored Judge Morse’s good nature. Willie’s, too.
Emily Sue refused to come into the dining room as long as their guests were present, but Kat returned to the table, eager to put the incident behind them with a bit of polite conversation. As she settled into her chair, she listened carefully to what her father and Judge Morse were discussing. Probably the weather, or beef prices, or worries about the natives on the reservations. The usual topics.
She froze when she heard Joshua’s name mentioned.
“That name’s familiar,” the judge said, wiping his chin with one of Mama’s good linen napkins. “Can’t recall where I’ve heard it before.”
“I doubt you’ve heard of him, Judge Morse. He hasn’t been in the territory long,” Kat informed the man. She unfolded a napkin and placed it over her lap, then reached for a slice of bread. She slathered it with rich, creamy butter.
