Not the Marrying Kind, page 5
Certain now that the young woman would make a perfect wife for Cody, he wondered how he would he describe her to his cousin. Could he ever find exactly the right words to depict the dark, russet color of her hair, or to illustrate the way the sunlight made her long tresses shimmer like gleaming ripples of copper? Perhaps he would wax poetic and compare her pale blue eyes to the clear Colorado skies, and her lips to the soft pink light that heralded the dawn of a new day.
If only she had a bit more meat on her bones.
Maybe if she weren’t wearing that flannel workshirt, or those trousers, her figure might appear a bit more womanly. Joshua tried to imagine how she would look dressed in a fancy gown with ruffled skirts. He frowned, realizing he actually preferred seeing her in the trousers. Skirts and dresses would cover up those long, slender legs. He eyed her from top to toe, his gaze raking slowly over her.
“What are you gawking at?”
Joshua’s head snapped up. He’d been caught. When a man didn’t have a good answer to a question, best to simply ignore it. That was his philosophy. Grinning, he walked toward the corral, his gait halting. He’d never found his walking stick.
“Well, missy, looks like I’ll be starting work come Monday morning.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m your new foreman.”
Those pale blue eyes grew paler still, turning almost icy. “Don’t play games with me, Mr. Barron. My father didn’t hire you.”
He quirked a brow. “I beg your pardon, missy, but—”
“You’re lame.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“No, missy, it isn’t. I’m actually not one to joke around, especially not on the job.”
“You’re not on the job yet.”
“No, missy, not until Monday morning.” He’d been holding his hat, now he plopped it on his head, planted his legs a few feet apart and stared down at her. “I do all right for a man with a bad leg, and yes, I’ve got experience and plenty of it.” Not really true. He’d had experience with some things. Ranching didn’t happen to be among them, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Longhorns?” she asked. “They’re tough critters.”
“Yes, missy, they are.” For some reason, he wanted to rile her, just a bit. He liked the way she ruffled so easily.
A gust of wind rose up, whipping her long hair around her face. She reached up, grabbed her blowing tresses and held them back. “Look, in the first place,” she said, scowling, “my name isn’t Missy, and in the second place—”
“I didn’t mean any offense by it. You look like a Missy to me. Katherine, is it? Or do you prefer Miss Phillips?”
She puffed up like a blowfish, and Joshua fought a losing battle against his laughter. She obviously didn’t find it funny. Standing with her arms akimbo, her head slightly cocked, she looked exactly like a stubborn little girl. Her father had called it right. Except that Kat was not a little girl. She was a woman. He wondered if she’d figured that out yet.
“Kat,” she said. Some of her bluster blew away.
“Huh?”
“Kat,” she repeated. “That’s what my friends call me.”
“Does that mean we’re friends now?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not even close.” She stepped away, eyed him up and down, then nodded. “Be here early Monday morning.”
* * * *
Late that night, Kat sat at the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she gathered her hair and twisted it into a single braid. She wore a long white nightgown trimmed in lace. Mama had given it to her for her birthday, no doubt hoping it might make Kat—no, Katherine—feel more feminine. She sighed. It hadn’t worked.
Maybe if she had a few more curves in strategic places…or if her breasts were a bit fuller. Rising from the upholstered bench, she turned this way and that before the mirror, studying her lithe, flat-chested form.
Nope. She’d never make much of a woman.
But it suited Kat just fine. She didn’t want to be a woman, didn’t want to depend on a husband to take care of her, and sure as hell didn’t want to be a meek, submissive little flower, fawning over a man and doing her best to please him. Marriage was meant for timid, weak-willed women.
She frowned. That description certainly did not fit her mother. Of course, her mother was an exception. Strong-willed women usually didn’t fare so well in marriage, but Kat’s parents had made it work. Maybe because both of them—her mother and her father—were strong. They were like a team of well-matched horses, yoked side-by-side, able to help one another pull the load.
That sort of perfect relationship didn’t happen often. Few men were willing to accept a woman as an equal partner.
Nope, marriage was not in Kat’s plans. All she wanted was to stay at the ranch, and somehow she would prove to her father that she had the brains, if not the brawn, to run the Rocking P. She could get help for the hard manual labor and the tasks she was not physically able to do by herself.
Her thoughts went at once to Joshua Barron. Why had her father hired him? Barron hardly seemed a likely prospect for the foreman’s job.
For that matter, why had Pa changed his mind? When she’d spoken to him before, he’d been adamant in his refusal. After Mr. Barron came riding up to the ranch, however, he’d quickly decided to give Kat a chance.
Of course, he’d made that decision contingent upon a few things, had added a few conditions to the bargain between them. Kat frowned at her reflection, wondering if she’d done the right thing by accepting her father’s offer.
Work on the ranch by day, act like a lady at night.
Give it her best shot, fulfill the government contract, and if and when the cattle reached the reservation, Pa would forget about selling the ranch and moving to town. Life would go on as it always had at the Rocking P Ranch.
If she failed to make good on the contract? Consequences would be unthinkable. Marry Virgil Kendrick.
A light tap-tap-tapping at the door caught her attention. She turned away from the mirror and from her puzzled thoughts.
“Emily? What are you doing?” she asked when she answered the knock. Her little sister stood with her hand outstretched.
“I heard Pa and Mama talking, but it’ll cost you a nickel if you want me to tell you.”
Kat shook her head. “Two pennies, that’s all.”
“Nope.” Emily folded her hands over her chest and stuck out her lower lip. “A nickel or I won’t say a word.”
“I don’t have a nickel, silly.”
“Yes, you do.” She edged her way into Kat’s room, plopped onto the bed, and smiled. “I’m very observant. Mama says that’s a good way to learn. Pay attention. Keep your eyes and ears open. You never know what you’ll find out.”
“And what did you find out tonight? What did Pa say after I came upstairs?” For once, Kat appreciated her little sister’s penchant for eavesdropping.
“A nickel, Kat. You’ve got one hidden away in your bureau drawer.”
“Do not!”
“When Mrs. Lambert asked you to run errands for her, she paid you two bits. And you didn’t even pay your tithing. I’m going to tell Pa, you know. He says it’s a sin to withhold tithing. It’s like stealing from God.”
“But it’s perfectly fine to go peeking through keyholes and listening to private conversations?” Kat’s brows arched. “It’s all right to go snooping and sneaking around?”
Emily smiled and stretched out her hand again. “Do you want to hear what Pa had to say?”
“Oh, all right.” Kat pulled open the top drawer, rummaged under the folded shirts, and dug out a five-cent piece. She turned it over in her hands, staring at the engraved shield on its face, then reluctantly held it out for Emily to grab. “Now, this had better be good.”
“Well, Mama asked Pa all about that little meeting he’d had in the office, wanted to know just what he thought he was up to.”
“Go on,” Kat urged, scooting closer. “What did Pa say?”
“Let me tell it my way.” Emily wore a frilly nightdress with hand-embroidered flowers. She carefully ran her hand over the smooth, cotton fabric, and let out a slow breath. “Don’t rush me, Kat.”
“It’s my nickel, don’t forget. Now, spill it.”
“Oh, all right. Mama asked Pa if he’d talked to you. About marrying Reverend Kendrick.” She looked up. “Told you Mama said he’d make a good husband. Anyway, Pa told her he’d talked to you Thursday while she was gone. He told her how you ruined that pie, too.”
“I don’t care about the pie. Get on with the story, will you?”
“Well,” she said, letting out a dramatic sigh, “Pa told her you’d thrown a hissy fit, got your dander up, and went storming out of the room.”
“It wasn’t all that dramatic, really.”
“And then Pa told her about the agreement he made with you this afternoon. After he hired that man with the bad leg.”
She nodded. So far her nosy little sister hadn’t revealed anything Kat didn’t already know. Certainly nothing worth a nickel. “You’d better have something more to say, otherwise I’m taking my money back.”
“Oh, I’ve got more. Lots more.” She turned the nickel over in her hands. “Pa said he was going to give you a chance to run the ranch, but only because he knows you’ll fail.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. Pa says he’ll make sure of it.” Emily held the coin up and smiled. “Pa said he’ll make sure you’ll fail, and then you’ll have to honor your part of the bargain and marry Reverend Kendrick.” She lowered her hand, puckered up her mouth and turned toward her older sister. “Did you really say you’d do it, Kat? Why would you make a deal like that?”
Why, indeed!
“I had to,” she admitted. “Those were the terms Pa offered. But I won’t fail, Emily. I guarantee you, I won’t fail.”
“Pa says he’s going to sabotage you. I’m not sure what that means, but it sounded awfully serious, and—”
“Sabotage!” Of all the nerve. What sort of dirty tricks did Pa have up his sleeve? How dare he make such an outrageous deal, all the while planning to sabotage her. It gave Kat all the incentive she needed. Under no circumstances would she allow him to best her. No matter what she had to do or how hard she had to work, she would come through on her end.
She sucked in a deep breath, managed to calm herself, and put on her brightest smile.
“Thanks, Emily,” she said, shooing the little girl off her bed. “You’d better get back to your own room before Mama catches you.”
“Yeah, I suppose. And don’t worry, Kat,” the little girl said, grinning as she stopped at the door. “I won’t tell anybody I saw you prancing around, checking your titties in the mirror.”
“Emily Sue!” Kat didn’t know if she should laugh, cry, paddle her observant little sister, or just throw up her hands and forget it. The latter seemed the best course.
She turned toward the mirror again. Titties?
Now where had little Emily ever heard a word like that?
Chapter Four
As Kat stepped inside the little wood-framed church the next morning, she kept her head bowed, not from any deep religious feeling coming over her, but as a way of avoiding eye contact with Virgil Kendrick. He must have been watching for her family. He swooped down from the pulpit where he’d been preparing for the morning service and came directly toward Kat.
“You’re looking lovely this morning, as always,” he said. “As are you, Mrs. Phillips.” He nodded first at Kat’s mother, then exchanged glances with her father. Kat thought she caught a quick nod pass between the two men.
But then her father turned away and gestured toward the pew where they usually sat. “Come on now, ladies,” he said. “Let’s not dilly-dally around.” He stood at the end, waiting as first Emily Sue, then Kat, and finally his wife took their seats. He gave another curt nod toward the minister, but said nothing more.
Kendrick looked a bit nonplussed, and little wonder why. Usually Dirk Phillips had a lot to say. His silence that morning confused Kat, too. When she turned toward him, he quickly averted his gaze. Was that a look of guilt upon his face?
As for Reverend Kendrick, his pathetic, pleading expression left Kat feeling nauseated. No doubt he was hoping his suit had been accepted and was waiting for her father to give him the good news. It seemed almost cruel to ignore him.
Kat leaned forward, reached around her mother, and tapped her father to get his attention.
“You need to tell him.” She mouthed the words and pointed toward the somber man in his stiff, white clerical collar.
Her mother pushed Kat’s hand away. “Stop that. You know how impolite it is to point, Katherine Ann. Now, settle down. Church is about to start.”
“It’s not going to start as long as he’s standing there.” She pointed again at Reverend Kendrick. “Pa needs to tell him that I’m not—”
“Hush, Katherine.” Her father’s voice rose up, drowning out her quiet words. Red-faced, he turned toward the other worshipers. “Sorry, folks.” He turned toward his wife and two daughters with a stern countenance, then settled back against the hard pew. He clasped his hands in his lap and stared straight ahead.
Reverend Kendrick cast one last, longing look in Kat’s direction, then strode toward the lectern.
Throughout the service, the minister continued to gaze toward Kat, unabashed desire gleaming in his narrow, beady eyes. He drew his sermon from Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, speaking of finding heavenly treasures in earthen vessels, and all the while Kat fidgeted on the hard pew, aware of people whispering and looking her way. Mama was right, she realized. It was awfully rude to point, but that sure didn’t keep a lot of those very Christian ladies from aiming their gnarled fingers in her direction.
Gossip sure did get about fast, and somebody must have caught wind of Kendrick’s proposal. She glared toward her father. But he couldn’t have been the one spreading rumors. Until this morning, he hadn’t left the house in weeks.
She doubted Mama would have discussed such a personal matter with anyone, which left only Reverend Kendrick himself. Or Emily Sue. She turned toward her sister.
“Did you say anything to anybody about him wanting to marry me?”
Emily’s face turned pale. “Nobody said it was a secret.”
“But you know I’m not going to do it, Emily. Telling tales like that’s almost the same as spreading lies. The devil will get you for that.”
Mama heaved a very audible sigh. “Girls, if you’re going to argue, go outside.”
“We’re not arguing,” Emily said, closing her arms across her chest.
“Yes, we are.” Kat jumped to her feet, jerked Emily Sue up, too, and all but dragged her out from the pew, down the aisle, and through the front door. As soon as they were outside, she gave the little brat a well-deserved shake. “How dare you, Emily! If we weren’t here at church in front of God and everybody, I swear, I’d turn you over my knee and paddle you so hard you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.”
“But I didn’t tell on purpose.” She sniffled. “Mrs. Wilkes asked me how I felt about it, that’s all. She wanted to know if I was excited, and I told her there wasn’t anything to get excited about.”
Kat kept a tight hold on her sister’s arms. Probably Emily was telling the truth. Mrs. Wilkes kept house for the reverend and was always getting into his business, as well as everybody else’s. It would be just like her to try to pin Emily down and wheedle information from her.
“But you did tell her that I wasn’t going to marry him, right?” Might even be a good thing if Emily had set the woman straight.
Emily sniffled again. “I told her you didn’t want to marry him.”
“Good.”
“But I also told her you had to marry him, whether you wanted to or not.”
Kat’s mouth dropped open. “You told her what?” Realizing the implications of her sister’s careless words, she covered her face with her hands. She very nearly cried. More and more lately, she’d found herself on the verge of tears, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. Silly, lovestruck women cried. She was not one of those.
Too embarrassed to set foot inside the church again, Kat turned toward home and started walking.
“What are you doing?” Emily cried out, racing after her older sister.
“What does it look like? I’m salvaging what’s left of my pride.” She made a harrumphing sound nearly as good as the ones Pa made.
“Mama says it’s a sin to be prideful. A woman’s supposed to be humble and submissive.”
“You don’t even know what those words mean, Emily. As for me, I’d rather go to hell than submit to some self-righteous ass.” Without further ado, she turned on her heel and began the long walk home.
"But, Kat, what about your class?"
Each week, Kat taught a group of children after the regular service ended. She sang songs with them about the Lord and His love, recited simple scriptures, and showed them how to kneel and pray. But not today.
She spoke not a word...just kept on marching.
Pa caught up with her an hour later. Services that morning must have been awful short, Kat guessed. As the family’s horse-drawn buggy rolled up alongside her, she kept her eyes on the road ahead, refusing to look at her mother, father, or sister.
“Don’t suppose it would do much good to ask you to get in.” Pa’s voice wasn’t as strong as it had once been, but his words were clear.
“Nope. Wouldn’t do a bit of good,” she replied.
"Suit yourself."
The buggy passed by. Nobody looked back. Kat saw her pa flick the reins over the horse’s rump. She sighed and covered her mouth with her hand to keep from choking on the dust stirred up. Damn her and her own stubbornness. She’d actually expected Pa to climb down, find a switch from a sapling tree, and insist she get back into the buggy where she belonged.
